etire. Then, Central Coordination would be examining
the records of various district leaders, looking for a successor. Then--

He shrugged and turned his attention to his piloting of the borrowed
helicopter. It was a clumsy machine, and he had to get in to Regional
Headquarters in time for the morning conference. There would be no sense
it getting involved in employee traffic--not if he could avoid it.

The conference, his informant had told him, would be a little out of the
ordinary. It seemed that the Old Man had become somewhat irritated by
the excess privileges allowed in a few of the eastern districts. And he
was going to jack everyone up about it. After that would come the usual
period of reports, and possibly a few special instructions. Some of the
leaders would have pet projects to put forward, he knew. They always
did. Morely smiled to himself. He'd have something to come up with, too.

And this conference might put a crimp in Harwood's style. Morely had
carefully worded his progress report to make contrast with the type of
report that he knew would come from District One. George Harwood had
been allowing quite a few extra privileges to his people, stating that
it was good for morale. And, during the past couple of months, he'd
seemed to be proving his point. Certainly, the production of the
employees from the peninsula had been climbing. Harwood, Morely decided
would be the most logical person--after himself--for the region when the
Old Man retired. In fact, for a time, it had looked as though the
director of District One was going to be a dangerous rival.

But this conference would change things. Morely smiled slowly as he
thought of possible ways of shading the odds.

He looked ahead. Commuters were streaming in from the peninsula now, to
make for the factory parking lots. His face tightened a little. Why, he
wondered, had the Old Man decided to call the conference at this hour?
He could have delayed a little, until commuter traffic was less heavy.
He'd been a district leader once. And before that, under the old
government, a field leader. He should know how annoying the employee
classes could be. And to force his leaders to mingle with commuting
employees in heavy traffic!

* * * * *

For that matter, everyone seemed to be conspiring to make things
uncomfortable today. Those heavy-handed mechanics in the district motor
pool, for example. They'd failed him today. His own