he grant of occasional
hours of Privacy, as a reward for my work on Blue Martian Fever?"

"I remember now," said Dr. Lanza.

"But what for?" asked Officer Blagun. "It's anti-social!"

"Evidently you have forgotten, Officer Blagun, another Maxim of Leader
Marley: Nature has not equipped one Category to judge the needs of
another; only the Leader understands all. Now, Dr. Lanza, will you tell
me the reason for this visit? Since your promotion from Research to
Ruler, I have rarely been honored by your attention."

"I am here with a message," said Lanza. "Leader Marley's compliments,
and he requests your presence at a conference on next Wednesday at ten
in the morning."

"Why did you have to deliver that in person? What's wrong with using
Communications?"

"It's not my province to ask questions, Dr. Wong. I was told to come
here, and I was told to wait for a reply."

"Next Wednesday at ten? Let's see, this is Friday." David Wong pressed
the key of his electronic calendar, but he had no need to study the dull
green and red lights that flashed on to indicate the pattern of his day.
He did not delude himself that he had any real choice, but he had
learned in the past fifteen years that it kept up his courage to
preserve at least the forms of independence. He allowed a decent thirty
seconds to ponder the coded lights, then blanked the board and looked up
with an easy smile.

"Dr. Wong's compliments to Leader Marley, and he will be honored to
attend a conference on Wednesday at ten."

Nodding his head, Dr. Lanza glanced briefly around the office. "Queer,
old-fashioned place you have here."

"Yes. It was built many years ago by a slippery old politician who
wanted to be safe from his enemies. Makes a good place for Research,
don't you think?"

Lanza did not answer. He strode to the door, then paused to look back.

"You understand, Dr. Wong, that I shall have to report the locked door?
I have no choice."

"Has anyone?"

Officer Blagun followed his superior, leaving the door wide open behind
them. Wong remained rigid in his chair until the clack of heels on
marble floor had become a mere echo in his brain, then stretched out his
hand to the intercom. He observed with pride that his hand did not
tremble as he pressed the dial.

"Get me Dr. Karl Haslam ... Karl? Can you meet me in the lab right away?
I've thought of a new approach that might help us crack the White
Martian problem. Yes, I know we planned on confer