accept Section G
and Interplanetary Security."

Ronny Bronston thought about it.

Metaxa added, "That's why one of the requirements of this job is that you
yourself be a citizen of United Planets, rather than of any individual
planet, have no religious affiliations, no political beliefs, and no
racial prejudices. You've got to be able to stand aloof."

"Yeah," Ronny said thoughtfully.

Ross Metaxa looked at his watch again and sighed wearily. "I'll turn you
over to one of my assistants," he said. "I'll see you again, though,
before you leave."

"Before I leave?" Ronny said, coming to his feet. "But where do I start
looking for this Tommy Paine?"

"How the hell would I know?" Ross Metaxa growled.

-------------------------------------

In the outer office, Ronny said to the receptionist, "Commissioner Metaxa
said for me to get in touch with Sid Jakes."

She said, "I'm Irene Kasansky. Are you with us?"

Ronny said, "I beg your pardon?"

She said impatiently, "Are you going to be with the Section? If you are,
I've got to clear you with your old job. You were in statistics over in
New Copenhagen, weren't you?"

Somehow it seemed far away now, the job he'd held for more than five
years. "Oh, yes," he said. "Yes, Commissioner Metaxa has given me an
appointment."

She looked up at him. "Probably to look for Tommy Paine."

He was taken aback. "That's right. How did you know?"

"There was talk. This Section is pretty well integrated." She grimaced,
but on her it looked good. "One big happy family. High interdepartmental
morale. That sort of jetsam." She flicked some switches. "You'll find
Supervisor Jakes through that door, one to your left, two to your right."

He could have asked one _what_ to his left and two _what_ to his right,
but evidently Irene Kasansky thought he had enough information to get him
to his destination. She'd gone back to her work.

[Illustration.]

It was one turn to his left and two turns to his right. The door was
lettered simply _Sidney Jakes_. He knocked and a voice shouted happily,
"It's open. It's always open."

Supervisor Jakes was as informal as his superior. His attire was on the
happy-go-lucky side, more suited for sports wear than a fairly high
ranking job in the ultra-staid Octagon.

He couldn't have been much older than Ronny Bronston but he had a nervous
vitality about him that would have worn out the other in a few hour