"Of course, Susanne," Messerschmidt said. "I hope to see you again." Susanne nodded--a quick, sharp jerk of her head--and went quickly into the kitchen. Messerschmidt, Jem, and Kimmensen faced each other. "An awkward situation," Messerschmidt said quietly. "You made it," Kimmensen answered. Messerschmidt shrugged. "I'll take the blame. I think we'd best say good night." "Good night." "Good night, Mr. President ... Mr. Secretary." Messerschmidt bowed to each of them and stepped out of the living room, carefully closing the panel behind him. He walked through the pool of light from the living room and disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the patio. In a minute, Kimmensen heard his plane beat its way into the air, and then he sat down again, clutching his glass. He saw that Bendix was white-lipped and shaking. "So now I've met him," Kimmensen said, conscious of the strain in his voice. "That man can't be allowed to stay alive!" Bendix burst out. "If all the things I hate were ever personified, they're in him." "Yes," Kimmensen said, nodding slowly. "You're right--he's dangerous." But Kimmensen was less ready to let his emotions carry him away. The days of political killings were over--finished forever. "But I think we can trust the society to pull his teeth." Kimmensen hunched forward in thought. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, at work. Our personal feelings are unimportant, compared to the steps we have to take as League officers." That closed the matter for tonight, as he'd hoped it would. He still hoped that somehow tonight's purpose could be salvaged. * * * * * In that, he was disappointed. It was an awkward, forced meal, with the three of them silent and pretending nothing had happened, denying the existence of another human being. They were three people attempting to live in a sharply restricted private universe, their conversation limited to comments on the food. At the end of the evening, all their nerves were screaming. Susanne's face was pinched and drawn together, her temples white. When Kimmensen blotted his lips, he found fresh blood on the napkin. Jem stood up awkwardly. "Well ... thank you very much for inviting me, Joe." He looked toward Susanne and hesitated. "It was a delicious meal, Sue. Thank you." "You're welcome." "Well ... I'd better be getting home...." Kimmensen nodded, terribly disappointed. He'd planned to let Susanne fly Jem home. "Take the plane, Jem," he said finally. "You can pick me up in the morning." "All right. Thank you.... Good night, Sue." "Good night." "Joe." "Good night, Jem." He wanted to somehow restore Bendix's spirits. "We'll have a long talk about that other business in the morning," he reminded him. "Yes, sir." It did seem to raise his chin a little. * * * * * After Jem had left, Kimmensen turned slowly toward Susanne. She sat quietly, her eyes on her empty coffee cup. _Waiting_, Kimmensen thought.