Blankly, he faded the brief and dialed his full dossier. It failed to duplicate the brief, but that was no advantage. This time he had an M.D. degree from Johns Hopkins, but his military career listed him as a dishonorable discharge from the navy where he’d served in the steward department. His criminal record was happily nil, but his religion was listed as Holy Roller. Political affiliations had him down as a member of the Dixiecrats. The others were looking at him, most of them blankly, although there were grins on the faces of Moskowitz and the C.I.A. man. Moskowitz said, “With a name like mine, yet, they have me a Bishop of the Orthodox Greek Catholic Church.” Larry said, “What’s it all about?” Ruthenberg said unhappily, “It started early this morning. We don’t know exactly when as yet.” Which didn’t seem to answer the question. Larry said, “I don’t get it. Obviously, the Records department is fouled up in some manner. How, and why?” “How, we know,” the Boss rumbled disgustedly. “Why is another matter. You’ve spent more time than anyone else on this assignment, Lawrence. Perhaps you can tell us.” He grabbed up a pipe from his desk, tried to light it noisily, noticed finally that it held no tobacco and threw it to the desk again. “Evidently, a large group of these Movement individuals either already worked in Records or wriggled themselves into key positions in the technical end of the department. Now they’ve sabotaged the files.” “We’ve caught most of them already,” one of the F.B.I. men growled, “but damn little good that does us at this point.” The C.I.A. supervisor made a gesture indicating that he gave it all up. “Not only here but in Chicago and San Francisco as well. All at once. Evidently perfectly rehearsed. Personnel records from coast to coast are bollixed. Why?” Larry said slowly, “I think I know that now. Yesterday, I wouldn’t have but I’ve been picking up odds and ends.” They all looked at him. ------------------------------------- Larry sat down and ran a hand back through his hair. “The general idea is to change the country’s reliance on social-label judgments.” “On _what_,” the Boss barked. “On one person judging another according to social-labels. Voss and the others—” “Who did you say?” Ruthenberg snapped. “Voss. Professor Peter Voss from the University over in Baltimore section. He’s the ring leader.” Ruthenberg snapped to Fraina, “Get on the phone and send out a pick-up order for him.” Fraina was on his feet. “What charge, Ben?” Ben Ruthenberg snorted. “Rape, or something. Get moving, we’ll figure out a charge later. The guy’s a fruitcake.” Larry said wearily, “He’s evidently gone into hiding. I’ve been trying to locate him. He managed to slip me some knockout drops and got away yesterday.” The Boss looked at him in disgust. Ruthenberg said evenly, “We’ve had men go into hiding before. Get going, Fraina.” Fraina left the office and the others looked back to Larry.