"Thank God for tradition," the man who had been known as Lund said when he helped the other man up. Stripping off his uniform jacket and reversing it changed the other's appearance. The elevator slowed automatically for the ground floor. Word had been flashed down from the Conference hall, but when the waiting monitors surged into the opening elevator before it had quite eased to a stop, they found nothing at all. Overhead, the two men threaded their way through a maze of cables and onto the roof of the next cab. It dropped under them, then stopped halfway between floors while they climbed down. The new operator eyed them, but said nothing while they brushed each other off. At a signal from the small man, the cab continued its interrupted drop, letting them out on the sub-surface shopping level. The corridors of the level were full of running figures, most of them heading towards the elevator banks. No one paid the newly arrived pair any attention at all, although the powder-blue uniforms of the monitors predominated. The two men strode briskly down the corridor until they came to a side passage lined with small shops that featured the specialized products of the various members of the Conference. They stopped in front of one displaying gadgets from Ehrla, then entered while the counterfeit Lund purchased a perpetual razor, having it giftwrapped. Then they wandered further, acting now like the average sightseer, until they reached a florist's shop set in an alcove at the end of the passage. They entered, saw that there were no other customers, nodded to the salesman and continued on to the back. "Dale!" The waiting pair leaped to their feet and spoke as one. "We thought you weren't going to make it!" "I didn't think so myself," said Dale Vernon, the slim little man. "If Dic hadn't been there right on schedule, there'd be nothing left of me but a few bloody shreds. Those people were _mad_!" His voice showed respect for the strength of their emotions. "What's the news?" "The Park monitors found the real Lund about twenty minutes ago." "Good timing. Any sooner, and the fun upstairs would have been different." "And you know who is screaming for the dissolving of the Conference." "So soon?" "They, uh, you might say had an inside lead as to what was going to happen." "It's a little early to tell," added the other man, "but apparently the operation was a success. The proper wheels have been set in motion, at least. We'll have to keep applying grease from time to time in the next forty-eight hours, but I think we can forget about the Ehrlan problem--during this conference, at least. Ten years from now, they'll have an entirely different set of plans for the reformation of the galaxy. And we'll have to come up with an entirely different way of crossing them." * * * * * "Do-gooders!" snorted the first man. "You must admit, they have the best of intentions," said Vernon.