"Don't mention it, boss." Harry called after her as she went back toward the reception room. "Stay by your desk, will you? The government may need you." A muffled giggle was her only response. Miss Conway was a civil service employee. She had been Harry's secretary for six months. Like most other civil service personnel, according to Harry's way of thinking she was a tower of inefficiency. His chief annoyance stemmed from the fact that the army had arbitrarily placed her in his office. He had been given no choice in the matter. It was one hell of a way to treat a personnel director, he thought. He sat at his desk gloomily aware of the headaches he'd have to face in his quest for George Fisher's replacement. He opened the folder and glanced at the vital statistics. Fisher, George--Age: 40--Weight: 160--Height: 5'9"--Eyes: Green--Hair: None--Complexion: Light--Date of Employment: 10/7/58--Date of Departure: 4/12/59--Reason: Suicide--etc., etc. Harry yawned. Statistics bored him. He turned to a page marked "Qualifications" and started reading. The phrase "Education and experience in nuclear physics required," caught his eye. The requirement was no surprise to him. But whenever he saw it he took a few minutes off to indulge his curiosity. What _was_ the big project at Weapons Development? He'd love to know. He wouldn't find out, of course. And the inability to find out naturally gave his imagination the widest latitude. His most persistent theory involved an atomic powered rocket capable of knocking the Russians' manned satellites out of space. The Russians were still ahead of everyone and their latest satellites were heavily armed. As usual they were lording it over the rest of the world. And the rest of the world had not come up with an effective answer to this challenge. Harry closed the folder. He glanced at a list of technical schools. He would call each of them and ask them to submit a list of lab technicians. He would also look over the field of technicians still left in private enterprise. The intercom buzzed. "What is it, Miss Conway?" "Miss Ralston is here." "Who is Miss Ralston?" "She has an appointment with you." "An appointment!" Harry was baffled. "Who made it?" "I did. I guess I forgot to tell you." Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Thank you, Miss Conway. Will you step into my office for a moment?" He tried to control his mounting anger. She breezed into the office. "Now, Miss Conway, will you please tell me who is this Miss Ralston?" "She operates 'Ralston Personnel Consultants'. I think she wants to talk to you about the replacement for George Fisher. You know, the one who died." "Yes, yes, I know. And _you_ know, Miss Conway, we don't do business through agencies." "Oh, Miss Ralston doesn't run an agency. She told me. Her business is much more exclusive than that. She handles very highly specialized people. That's the reason why ..."