e of, indorse the letter back to
Central, with the agreement copy, and let Bond turn in funds under one
of the "miscellaneous received" accounts. In fact, he realized, that was
just about what the district leader expected him to do.

He smiled and shook his head. A few months ago, it was possible he could
have done that, but even then, he wouldn't have. And now, with the
mental communicators in use, it would be a flat impossibility. The trap
would be as obvious to Bond as it had been to him. He leaned back in his
chair and tapped his fingertips against each other.

The mentacoms, he knew, were in common use by this time, in virtually
every office of district, regional, and national administration, as well
as by most citizens. And he'd served under Marko Keller once--known him
fairly well, too. He shrugged.

It would be a little irregular for a district Fiscal chief to make
direct contact with the Coordination Agency's comptroller, but there was
nothing like getting the most expert and authoritative advice available.
He relaxed, trying to recreate his memories of the man who was now
National Comptroller.

* * * * *

Marko Keller strode purposefully into the filing section. He could
easily get the data he needed by simply contacting one of the clerks, he
knew, but he felt an urgent need for personal activity. That
conversation with DeVore, way out in Region Nine, had upset him more
than he liked to admit, even to himself.

It wouldn't be so bad if it were an isolated incident. Such things could
be taken care of by administrative action, and a single instance would
cause little disturbance. But there were too many, happening too often.
He pulled a file drawer open, violently.

One of the clerks approached. "Can I help, sir?"

Keller turned to look at him. The man, he noted, was wearing one of the
late model inductive headbands that had been sold in such quantities
lately. Deluxe model, too. Must have cost him at least two months' pay.
Like almost everyone else, he was vitally concerned in this latest
affair. Keller frowned. He, himself, he realized, was acting childishly.
He would simply be wasting time by trying to do this by himself.

"Yes," he growled. "Get me a brief on a few cases like this one." He
made full contact with the man, rapidly summarizing his conversation
with DeVore, and including DeVore's short flash of his own conversation
with Ward Kirk.

"_And get a rundown f