ve spread to
the extent it evidently had through the country's intellectual circles,
through the scientifically and technically trained, without his department
being keenly aware of it.

[Illustration.]

One result, he decided glumly, of labeling everything contrary to the
_status quo_ as _weird_ and dismissing it with contempt. Admittedly, that
would have been his own reaction only a week ago.

Suppose that he'd been at a cocktail party, and had drifted up to a group
who were arguing about social-label judgments and the need to develop a
_movement_ to change society's use of them. The discussion would have gone
in one ear, out the other, and he would have muttered inwardly, "Weirds,"
and have drifted on to get himself another vodka martini.

Larry snorted and dialed the Department of Records. He'd never heard of
Frank Nostrand before, so he got Information.

The bright young thing who answered seemed to have a harried expression
untypical of Records employees. Larry said to her, "I'd like the brief on
a Mr. Frank Nostrand who is evidently an expert on rockets. The only other
thing I know about him is that he recently got in the news as the result
of a controversy with Senator McCord."

"Just a moment, sir," the bright young thing said.

She touched buttons and reached into a delivery chute. When her eyes came
up to meet his again, they were more than ever harried. They were
absolutely confused.

"Mr. Franklin Howard Nostrand," she said, "currently employed by Madison
Air as a rocket research technician."

"That must be him," Larry said. "I'm in a hurry, Miss. What's his
background?"

Her eyes rounded. "It says ... it says he's an Archbishop of the Anglican
Church."

Larry Woolford looked at her.

She looked back, pleadingly.

Larry scowled and said, "His university degrees, please."

Her eyes darted to the report and she swallowed. "A bachelor in Home
Economics, sir."

"Look here, Miss, how could a Home Economics degree result in his becoming
either an Archbishop or a rocket technician?"

"I'm sorry, sir. That's what it says."

Larry was fuming but there was no point in taking it out on this junior
employee of the Department of Records. He snapped, "Just give me his
address, please."

She said agonizingly, "Sir, it says, Lhasa, Tibet."

A red light flicked at the side of his phone and he said to her, "I'll
call you back. I'm getting a priority call."

He flicked h