iss Polk, in the Boss'
office, said for you to see her as soon as you came in, Mr. Woolford."

"Oh?"

He made his way to LaVerne's office, his attention actually on the ideas
churning in his mind.

She looked up when he entered.

Larry said, "The Boss wanted to see me?"

LaVerne ducked her head, as though embarrassed. "Not exactly, Larry."

He gestured with his thumb in the direction of his own cubicle office.
"Irene just said you wanted me."

LaVerne looked up into his face. "The Boss and Mr. Foster, too, are
boiling about your authorizing that Distelmayer man to bill this
department for information he gave you. The Boss hit the roof. Something
about the Senate Appropriations Committee getting down on him if it came
out that we bought information from professional espionage agents."

Larry said, "It was information we needed, and Foster gave me the go ahead
on locating Frol Eivazov. Maybe I'd better see the Boss."

LaVerne said, "I don't think he wants to see you, Larry. They're up to
their ears in this Movement thing. It's in the papers _now_ and nobody
knows what to do next. The President is going to make a speech on TriD,
and the Boss has to supply the information. His orders are for you to
resume your vacation. To take a month off and then see him when you get
back."

Larry sank down into a chair. "I see," he said, "And at that time he'll
probably transfer me to janitor service."

"Larry," LaVerne said, almost impatiently, "why in the world didn't you
take that job Walt Foster has now when the Boss offered it to you?"

"Because I'm stupid, I suppose," Larry said bitterly. "I thought I could
do more working alone than at an administrative post tangled in red tape
and bureaucratic routine."

She said, "Sorry, Larry." She sounded as though she meant it.

Larry stood up. "Well, tonight I'm going to hang one on, and tomorrow it's
back to Florida." He said in a rush, "Look LaVerne, how about that date
we've been talking about for six months or more?"

She looked up at him. "I can't stand vodka martinis."

"Neither can I," he said glumly.

"And I don't get a kick out of prancing around, a stuffed shirt among
fellow stuffed shirts, at some goings-on that supposedly improves my
culture status."

Larry said "At the house I have every known brand of drinkable, and a
stack of ... what did you call it? ... corny music. We can mix our own
drinks and dance all by ourselves."

She tucked her head to one s