out into the hall and see me
tomorrow during working hours."

He was at my mercy, really. He wanted sleep so much. And he was going to
be wide awake so very soon.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked him, poking a large glossy pic under
his long broken nose. One eye opened slowly.

"Big warship of some kind, looks like Empire lines. Now for the last
time--go away!" he said.

"A very good guess for this late at night," I told him cheerily. "It is
a late Empire battleship of the Warlord class. Undoubtedly one of the
most truly efficient engines of destruction ever manufactured. Over a
half mile of defensive screens and armament, that could probably turn
any fleet existent today into fine radioactive ash--"

"Except for the fact that the last one was broken up for scrap over a
thousand years ago," he mumbled.

I leaned over and put my lips close to his ear. So there would be no
chance of misunderstanding. Speaking softly, but clearly.

"True, true," I said. "But wouldn't you be just a _little_ bit
interested if I was to tell you that one is being built today?"

Oh, it was beautiful to watch. The covers went one way and Inskipp went
the other. In a single unfolding, in concerted motion he left the
horizontal and recumbent and stood tensely vertical against the wall.
Examining the pic of the battleship under the light. He apparently did
not believe in pajama bottoms and it hurt me to see the goose-bumps
rising on those thin shanks. But if the legs were thin, the voice was
more than full enough to make up for the difference.

"Talk, blast you diGriz--_talk_!" he roared. "What is this nonsense
about a battleship? Who's building it?"

I had my nail file out and was touching up a cuticle, holding it out for
inspection before I said anything. From the corner of my eye I could see
him getting purple about the face--but he kept quiet. I savored my small
moment of power.

"Put diGriz in charge of the record room for a while, you said, that way
he can learn the ropes. Burrowing around in century-old, dusty files
will be just the thing for a free spirit like Slippery Jim diGriz. Teach
him discipline. Show him what the Corps stands for. At the same time it
will get the records in shape. They have been needing reorganization for
quite a while."

Inskipp opened his mouth, made a choking noise, then closed it. He
undoubtedly realized that any interruption would only lengthen my
explanation, not shorten it. I smiled and nod