"United Continents Bureau of Employment", and down in
small letters below, "Planetary Division, David G. Hawke."

Tarn felt the sinking feeling in his stomach, and opened the door
apprehensively. It had been years since he had seen Dave, long years
filled with violence and change. Those years could change men, too.
Tam thought, fearfully; they could make even the greatest men change.
He remembered, briefly, his promise to himself, made just after the
Revolt, never to trade on past friendships, never to ask favors of
those men he had known before, and befriended. With a wave of warmth,
the memory of those old days broke through, those days when he had
roomed with Dave Hawke, the long, probing talks, the confidences, the
deep, rich knowledge that they had shared each others dreams and
ideals, that they had stood side by side for a common cause, though
they were such different men, from such very different worlds. Ideals
had been cheap in those days, talk easy, but still, Tam knew that Dave
had been sincere, a firm, stout friend. He had known, then, the
sincerity in the big lad's quiet voice, felt the rebellious fire in
his eyes. They had understood each other, then, deeply,
sympathetically, in spite of the powerful barrier they sought to tear
down--

The girl at the desk caught his eye, looked up from her work without
smiling. "Yes?"

"My name is Tam Peters. I'd like to see Mr. Hawke." His voice was
thin, reluctant, reflecting overtones of the icy chill in his chest.
So much had happened since those long-dead days, so many things to
make men change--

The girl was grinning, her face like a harsh mask. "You're wasting
your time," she said, her voice brittle.

Anger flooded Tarn's face. "Listen," he hissed. "I didn't ask for your
advice. I asked to see Dave Hawke. If you choose to announce me now,
that's fine. If you don't see fit, then I'll go in without it. And you
won't stop me--"

The girl stiffened, her eyes angry. "You'd better not get smart," she
snapped, watching him warily. "There are police in the building. You'd
better not try anything, or I'll call them!"

"That's enough Miss Jackson."

The girl turned to the man in the office door, her eyes disdainful.

The man stood in the doorway, a giant, with curly black hair above a
high, intelligent forehead, dark brooding eyes gleaming like live
coals in the sensitive face. Tam looked at him, and suddenly his knees
would hardly support him, and his voice was