"Okay, pal." The lift tube arrived. Walton stepped inside and pressed _twenty-nine_. In the moment it took for the tube to rise the one floor, he thought, _So Fred's playing a waiting game.... He'll hold the information over my head until he can make good use of it._ That was some relief, anyway. No matter what evidence Fred had already salted away, Walton still had a chance to blot out some of the computer's memory track and obscure the trail to that extent. * * * * * The lift tube opened; a gleaming sign listed the various activities of the twenty-ninth floor, and at the bottom of the list it said _D. F. FitzMaugham, Director_. FitzMaugham's office was at the back of a maze of small cubicles housing Popeek functionaries of one sort or another. Walton had made some attempt to familiarize himself with the organizational stratification of Popeek, but his success thus far had been minimal. FitzMaugham had conceived the plan half a century ago, and had lovingly created and worked over the organization's structure through all the long years it took before the law was finally passed. There were plenty of bugs in the system, but in general FitzMaugham's blueprint had been sound--sound enough for Popeek to begin functioning almost immediately after its UN approval. The manifold departments, the tight network of inter-reporting agencies, the fantastically detailed budget with its niggling appropriations for office supplies and its massive expenditures for, say, the terraforming project--most of these were fully understood only by FitzMaugham himself. Walton glanced at his watch. He was three minutes late; the conversation with his brother had delayed him. But Ludwig of the UN was not known to be a scrupulously punctual man, and there was a high probability he hadn't arrived. The secretary in the office guarding FitzMaugham's looked up as Walton approached. "The director is in urgent conference, sir, and--oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Walton. Go right in; Mr. FitzMaugham is expecting you." "Is Mr. Ludwig here yet?" "Yes, sir. He arrived about ten minutes ago." Curious, Walton thought. From what he knew of Ludwig he wasn't the man to arrive early for an appointment. Walton and FitzMaugham had had plenty of dealings with him in the days before Popeek was approved, and never once had Ludwig been on time. Walton shrugged. If Ludwig could switch his stand so decisively from an emphatic anti-Popeek to an even more emphatic pro-Popeek, perhaps he could change in other respects as well. Walton stepped within the field of the screener. His image, he knew, was being relayed inside where FitzMaugham could scrutinize him carefully before admitting him. The director was very touchy about admitting people to his office. Five seconds passed; it usually took no more than that for FitzMaugham to admit him. But there was no sign from within, and Walton coughed discreetly.