Push a man hard and he will lunge back; push him hard enough and persistently enough, and he will lunge back farther than his vision carries him, right to the position you planned for him in the first place. And I, of course, had been only a tool in Defoe's hand; by interceding for Zorchi, I had tricked the man into the surrender Defoe wanted. And he had complimented me for it! I couldn't help wondering, though, whether the compliment Defoe gave me was part of some still subtler scheme.... Defoe nodded curtly to the expediter-captain at the door, who saluted and pressed the teleswitch that summoned Defoe's limousine. * * * * * Defoe turned to me. "I have business in Rome and must leave at once. You will have to certify Zorchi's suspension this afternoon; since I won't be here, you'll have to come back to the clinic for it. After that, Thomas, you can begin your assignment." I said uncertainly, "What--where shall I begin?" One eyebrow lifted a trifle. "Where? Wherever you think proper, Thomas. Or must I handle this myself?" The proper answer, and the one I longed to make, was "Yes." Instead I said, "Not at all, Mr. Defoe. It's only that I didn't even know there was an undercover group until you told me about it a few moments ago; I don't know exactly where to start. Gogarty never mentioned--" "Gogarty," he cut in, "is very likely to be relieved as District Administrator before long. I should like to replace him with someone already on the scene--" he glanced at me to be sure I understood--"provided, that is, that I can find someone of proven competence. Someone who has the ability to handle this situation without the necessity of my personal intervention." The limousine arrived then, with an armed expediter riding beside the chauffeur. Defoe allowed me to open the door for him and follow him in. "Do you understand me?" he asked as the driver started off. "I think so," I said. "Good. I do not suppose that Gogarty has given you any information about the malcontents in this area." "No." "It may be for the best; his information is clearly not good." Defoe stared broodingly out the window at the silent groups of men and women on the grass before the clinic. "Your information is there," he said as they passed out of sight. "Learn what you can. Act when you know enough. And, Thomas--" "Yes?" "Have you given thought to your future?" I shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I've only been a Claims Adjuster a little while, you know. I suppose that perhaps I might eventually get promoted, even become a District Administrator--" He looked at me impersonally. "Dream higher," he advised. * * * * * I stood watching after Defoe's limousine, from the marquee of the hotel where he had left me to take a room and freshen up. _Dream higher._ He had the gift of intoxication. Higher than a District Administrator! It could mean only--the Home Office.