ngly's back, but as doing something to help him set
the matter right. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Neel said firmly this time, straightening his back and
letting his right hand rest reassuringly on the computer slung from his
belt.

"Excellent. Then it is now time to meet your assistant." Abravanel
touched a button on his desk.

* * * * *

It was an unexpected development and Neel waited with interest as the
door opened. But he turned away abruptly, his eyes slitted and his face
white with anger. Abravanel introduced them.

"Neel Sidorak, this is--"

"Costa. I know him. He was in my class for six months." There wasn't the
slightest touch of friendliness in Neel's voice now. Abravanel either
ignored it or didn't hear it. He went on as if the two cold, distant
young men were the best of friends.

"Classmates. Very good--then there is no need to make introductions.
Though it might be best to make clear your separate areas of control.
This is your project Neel, and Adao Costa will be your assistant,
following your orders and doing whatever he can to help. You know he
isn't a graduate Societist, but he has done a lot of field work for us
and can help you greatly in that. And, of course, he will be acting as
an observer for the UN, and making his own reports in this connection."

Neel's anger was hot and apparent. "So he's a UN observer now. I wonder
if he still holds his old job at the same time. I think it only fair,
sir, that you know. He works for Interpol."

Abravanel's ancient and weary eyes looked at both men, and he sighed.
"Wait outside Costa," he said, "Neel will be with you in a minute."

Costa left without a word and Abravanel waved Neel back to his chair.
"Listen to me now," he said, "and stop playing tunes on that infernal
buzzer." Neel snapped his hand away from the belt computer, as if it had
suddenly grown hot. A hesitant finger reached out to clear the figures
he had nervously been setting up, then thought better of it. Abravanel
sucked life into his ancient pipe and squinted at the younger man.

"Listen," he said. "You have led a very sheltered life here at the
university, and that is probably my fault. No, don't look angry, I don't
mean about girls. In that matter undergraduates have been the same for
centuries. I'm talking about people in groups, individuals, politics,
and all the complicated mess that makes up human life. This has been
your area of study a