"This is top secret. Vanish." The technician vanished. Walton said, "Items seventy-three through seventy-seven on yesterday morning's record tape are to be deleted, and the information carried in those tubes is to be deleted as well. Furthermore, there is to be no record made of this transaction." The voicewrite on floor twenty clattered briefly, and the order funneled into the computer. Walton waited a moment, tensely. Then he said, "All right, technician. Come back in where I can see you." The technician appeared. Walton said, "I'm running a check now. Have the machine prepare another transcript of yesterday's activities between 0900 and 1200, and also one of today's doings for the last fifteen minutes." "Right away, sir." While he waited for the new transcripts to arrive, Walton studied the list of names on his desk. Five doctors--Gunther, Raymond, Archer, Hsi, Rein. He didn't know which one of them had examined the Prior baby, nor did he care to find out. All five would have to be transferred. Meticulously, he took up his stylus and pad again, and plotted a destination for each: _Gunther ... Zurich._ _Raymond ... Glasgow._ _Archer ... Tierra del Fuego._ _Hsi ... Leopoldville._ _Rein ... Bangkok._ He nodded. That was optimum dissemination; he would put through notice of the transfers later in the day, and by nightfall the men would be on their way to their new scenes of operation. Perhaps they would never understand why they had been uprooted and sent away from New York. The new transcripts arrived. Impatiently Walton checked through them. In the June tenth transcript, item seventy-one dealt with smallpox statistics for North America 1822-68, and item seventy-two with the tally of antihistamine supply for requisitions for Clinic Three. There was no sign of any of Walton's requests. They had vanished from the record as completely as if they had never been. Walton searched carefully through the June eleventh transcript for any mention of his deletion order. No, that hadn't been recorded either. He smiled, his first honest smile since FitzMaugham's assassination. Now, with the computer records erased, the director dead, and the doctors on their way elsewhere, only Fred stood in the way of Roy's chance of escaping punishment for the Prior business. He decided he'd have to take his chances with Fred. Perhaps brotherly love would seal his lips after all. VI The late Director FitzMaugham's files were spread over four floors of the building, but for Walton's purposes the only ones that mattered were those to which access was gained through the director's office alone. A keyboard and screen were set into the wall to the left of the desk. Walton let his fingers rest lightly on the gleaming keys.