* *

He walked around the corner to the restaurant, was bowed into a seat by
an ultrapolite android, and quietly ordered his meal. While he waited,
he spread the newsfac on the table in front of him, holding it with his
right hand while his left elbow rested on the table and his left palm
cradled his left jaw. In that position, there was nothing odd-looking
about the fact that his left thumbtip was in contact with his larynx and
his left middle finger was pressed tightly against the mastoid bone just
behind his left ear. His lips began to move slightly, and anyone at a
nearby table would have assumed that he was one of those readers who are
habitual lip-movers.

"The Senesin boy says he has a lead on the tapes. That's all I could get
out of him just now, but I have an appointment with him at eleven
tonight. How far shall I let him go, Sire?"

The sensitive microphone in the tip of his thumb picked up the nearly
inaudible sounds; the speaker in his middle finger vibrated against his
skull and brought him the answer to his question.

"For the moment, I'll leave that up to you. But I wouldn't try to stop
him just yet."

"Very well, Sire," murmured the colonel. He had already made up his mind
to let the Senesin boy go as far as he could. The lad was smart, and his
attack would at least provide a test for the psycho-sociological
defenses that surrounded the Emperor.

"Do you think those tapes--if they exist--are genuine?" the voice asked.

"According to young Senesin," the colonel said carefully, "the tapes are
supposed to show that certain ... ah ... 'highly-placed persons' in the
Imperial hierarchy are influencing members of the Government illegally.
You figure out what that might mean, Sire; it's a little too ambiguous
to mean much to me."

"'Influencing,' eh? That could mean anything from a broad hint, through
pressure and bribery, to actual brainwashing," said the voice from the
finger.

"Which one do you think it is, Sire?" the colonel asked with mock
innocency.

The voice chuckled, then said, "I haven't tried brainwashing yet."

"No-o-o," agreed the colonel, "but you might have to if Lord Evondering
gets in, and if you have to, you will."

"Colonel," said the voice gently, "there are times when I believe you
don't have a very high opinion of your Sovereign's moral outlook."

The colonel grinned, although he knew the listener couldn't see it. But
he knew the other was grinning, too. "I humbly beg