"Either that or it's being pushed. Let's go see." * * * * * There hadn't been much to see and it had been too cold to watch for long. The lights of Pittsburgh were beginning to go on in the dusk and the city looked pretty and far away. A Pennsylvania Air National Guard plane came up to investigate, but from a respectful distance. Then it flew off. Don left Alis, shivering, at her door and decided he wanted a drink. He remembered having seen a sign, _Club Lyric_, down the street from the _Sentry_ office and he headed for it. "Sergeant Cort," said a muffled voice under his collar. Don jumped. He'd forgotten for the moment that he was a walking radio station. "Yes?" he said. "Reception has been excellent," the voice said. It was no longer that of Captain Simmons. "You needn't recapitulate. We've heard all your conversations and feel we know as much as you do. You'll have to admit it isn't much." "I'm afraid not. What do you want me to do now? Should I go back and investigate that underground room again? That seems to be the best lead so far." "No. You're just a bank messenger whose biggest concern was to safeguard the contents of the brief case. Now that the contents are presumably in the bank vault your official worries are over, and though you're curious to know why Superior's acting the way it is, you're willing to let somebody else do something about it." "But they saw me in the room. Those eyes, whatever they are. I had the feeling--well, that they weren't human." "Nonsense!" the voice from the Pentagon said. "An ordinary closed-circuit television hookup. Don't let your imagination run away with you, and above all don't play spy. If they're suspicious of anyone it will be of Geneva Jervis because of her connection with Senator Thebold. Where are you going now?" "Well, sir, I thought--that is, if there's no objection--I thought I'd go have a drink. See what the townspeople are saying." "Good idea. Do that." "What are they saying in Washington? Does anybody put any stock in this magnology stuff of Professor Garet's?" "Facts are being collated. There's been no evaluation yet. You'll hear from us again when there's something to tell you. For now, Cort, carry on. You're doing a splendid job." The streets were cold, dark, and deserted. The few street lights were feeble and the lights in houses and other buildings seemed dimmer than normal. A biting wind had sprung up and Don was glad when he saw the neon words _Club Lyric_ ahead. The bartender greeted him cheerfully. "It ain't a fit night. What'll it be?" Don decided on a straight shot, to start. "What's going on?" he asked. "Where's the old town going?" The bartender shrugged. "Let Civek worry about that. It's what we pay him for, ain't it?" "I suppose so. How're you fixed for liquor? Big supply?" "Last a coupla weeks unless people start drinking more than usual. Beer'll run out first."