ention Deputy Subchief Skordran.'"

That reminded him of something; as soon as he was through with
Zulthran, he got out an order in the name of Tortha Karf authorizing
Skordran Kirv's promotion on a permanent basis and messaged it out.
Something was going to have to be done with Vulthor Tharn, too. A
promotion of course--say Deputy Bureau Chief. Hypno-Mech Tape Library
at Dhergabar Home Time Line; there Vulthor's passion for procedure and
his caution would be assets instead of liabilities. He called Vlasthor
Arph, the Chief's Deputy assigned to him as adjutant.

"I want more troops from ServSec and IndSec," he said. "Go over the
TO's and see what can be spared from where; don't strip any time line,
but get a force of the order of about three divisions. And locate all
the big antigrav-equipped ship transposition docks on Commercial and
Passenger Sectors, and a list of freighters and passenger ships that
can be commandeered in a hurry. We think we've spotted the time line
the Organization's using as a base. As soon as we raid a couple of
places near Nharkan and Novilan Equivalents, we're going to move in
for a planet-wide cleanup."

"I get it, Chief's Assistant. I do everything I can to get ready for a
big move, without letting anything leak out. After you strike the
first blow, there won't be any security problem, and the lid will be
off. In the meantime, I make up a general plan, and alert all our own
people. Right?"

"Right. And for your information, the base isn't Fifth Level; it's
First Level Abzar." He gave the designation.

Vlasthor Arph chuckled. "Well, think of that! I'd even forgotten there
was an Abzar Sector. Shall I tell the reporters that?"

"Fangs of Fasif, no!" Vall fairly howled. Then, curiously: "What
reporters? How'd they get onto PolTerm?"

"About fifty or sixty news-service people Chief Tortha sent down here,
this morning, with orders to prevent them from filing any stories from
here but to let them cover the raids, when they come off. We were
instructed to furnish them weapons and audio-visual equipment and
vocowriters and anything else they needed, and--"

Vall grinned. "That was one I'd never thought of," he admitted. "The
old fox is still the old fox. No, tell them nothing; we'll just take
them along and show them. Oh, and where are Dr. Hadron Dalla and that
girl of Salgath Trod's?"

"They're sleeping, now. Rest Room Eighteen."

* * * * *

Dalla and Zin