d looked out the window. Across
the parade ground he could see the Army Weapons Development Center. He
had no idea what new bomb they might be working on behind those heavily
guarded fences. He didn't care.

He was only concerned with the people who worked there. The rest of Fort
Dickson used mostly Civil Service Personnel. But the barricaded security
jungle across the parade grounds was more particular about its hired
help. A person's record had to be spotless almost from the day of his
conception ... or a person could not even gain entrance.

Harry had never been inside Weapons Development. He had once been to
traffic court as a roaring juvenile eighteen years before. That was
enough to bar him from even visiting. He realized, though, that the army
couldn't afford to take chances.

Hiring new technicians required an arduous screening process. Harry
loathed it. He was thankful that the personnel at Weapons Development
were highly paid and usually permanent. He never had to hire more than
one person a year.

Miss Conway swept into the office and handed Harry the folder.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Don't mention it, boss."

Harry called after her as she went back toward the reception room.

"Stay by your desk, will you? The government may need you."

A muffled giggle was her only response.

Miss Conway was a civil service employee. She had been Harry's secretary
for six months. Like most other civil service personnel, according to
Harry's way of thinking she was a tower of inefficiency. His chief
annoyance stemmed from the fact that the army had arbitrarily placed her
in his office. He had been given no choice in the matter. It was one
hell of a way to treat a personnel director, he thought.

He sat at his desk gloomily aware of the headaches he'd have to face in
his quest for George Fisher's replacement. He opened the folder and
glanced at the vital statistics.

Fisher, George--Age: 40--Weight: 160--Height: 5'9"--Eyes: Green--Hair:
None--Complexion: Light--Date of Employment: 10/7/58--Date of Departure:
4/12/59--Reason: Suicide--etc., etc. Harry yawned. Statistics bored him.

He turned to a page marked "Qualifications" and started reading. The
phrase "Education and experience in nuclear physics required," caught
his eye. The requirement was no surprise to him. But whenever he saw it
he took a few minutes off to indulge his curiosity. What _was_ the big
project at Weapons Development? He'd love to know. He w