ow."

"Will you help me, though? Will you help stop the war?" Brion asked,
aware he had gone too far, but unable to stop. Their anger was
making them forget the reasons for his being there.

"You ask too much," Ulv said again. "Go back now. We will talk about it."

"Will I see you again? How can I reach you?"

"We will find you if we wish to talk to you," was all Ulv said. If
they decided he was lying he would never see them again. There was
nothing he could do about it.

"I have made up my mind," Gebk said, rising to his feet and drawing
his cloth up until it covered his shoulders. "You are lying and this
is all a lie of the sky people. If I see you again I will kill you."
He stepped to the tunnel and was gone.

There was nothing more to be said. Brion went out next--checking
carefully to be sure that Gebk really had left--and Ulv guided him
to the spot where the lights of Hovedstad were visible. He did not
speak during their return journey and vanished without a word. Brion
shivered in the night chill of the air and wrapped his coat more
tightly around himself. Depressed, he walked back towards the warmer
streets of the city.

It was dawn when he reached the Foundation building; a new guard
was at the front entrance. No amount of hammering or threats could
convince the man to open until Faussel came down, yawning and
blinking with sleep. He was starting some complaint when Brion cut
him off curtly and ordered him to finish dressing and report for
work at once. Still feeling elated, Brion hurried into his office
and cursed the overly efficient character who had turned on his air
conditioner to chill the room again. When he turned it off this time
he removed enough vital parts to keep it out of order for the
duration.

When Faussel came in he was still yawning behind his fist--obviously
a low morning-sugar type. "Before you fall on your face, go out and
get some coffee," Brion said. "Two cups. I'll have a cup too."

"That won't be necessary," Faussel said, drawing himself up stiffly.
"I'll call the canteen if you wish some." He said it in the iciest
tone he could manage this early in the morning.

In his enthusiasm Brion had forgotten the hate campaign he had
directed against himself. "Suit yourself," he said shortly, getting
back into the role. "But the next time you yawn there'll be a
negative entry in your service record. If that's clear--you can
brief me on this organization's visible relations with the