, but I have to leave. Heavy time sheet
today."

As soon as he was gone, Hart breathed easier. Nothing incriminating
would be fed into the Central Scanner.

Marie became apologetic. "I'm sorry I said it, Wendell, but I couldn't
keep quiet. All I did last night was peek in once or twice."

He shrugged. "I'm just on a minor project."

"Every bit counts." She shook her head. "Only you have to wonder--I
mean, don't think I'm treasoning, but while I was shopping an hour ago
a lot of women said you have to think--how come all that obsolescent
junk could work so well, after being thoroughly wrecked, too? You
almost wonder whether some of it was too good for disintegration."

Wendell pretended to be shocked. "Just a fluke of circumstance. If
something like that happened again you'd be right to wonder. But it
could not ever happen again."

"Don't get me wrong, Wendell. None of the women attacked anything. It
was more like what you just said. They said if it happened again, then
you'd have to wonder. But of course it couldn't happen again."

How well the tables had turned! Not only had Marie's ignorant
knowledge proven helpful but she had now given him a positive idea
also.

When he met Wright and Johnson at the latter's apartment that evening
he explained it to them. "We can propagate 'dangerous' thoughts and
yet appear completely loyal. We can set up the reaction to next High
Holy Day."

"How?" demanded Johnson. "That's having your cake and eating it."

"Nothing's impossible in the human mind," Wright said. "Let's
listen."

"Here's the point. Wherever you go there will be people tsk-tsking
about the Preliminary fiasco. Just reassure them, say it meant nothing
at all by itself. If it ever happened again, then there would be room
for doubt but, of course, _it could not happen again_!"

Wright smiled. "That's almost feminine in its subtlety."

He smiled back. "My wife inspired it. Don't get nervous--it was
unconscious, sheerly by accident."

"Whatever the cause, it's the perfect result," Johnson conceded.
"We'll spread it through the net."

"Along with this, I hope." Wendell dumped the contacts on a table top.
"It's the smallest size possible. A lot should get by unnoticed. Find
cell members who can set up cryotrons with a wide range of
instructions to cope with anything in the piles. Some weirdly alive
concoctions of 'obsolescent' parts ought to result."

"Some day the world's going to know what you've done f