I said: "Wait a minute, sir." "Sorry, I'm extremely busy." He looked worried and impatient all at once. I said: "You've got to give me a moment in private." "Impossible. See my secretary." He turned toward his office. "Please, sir--" He waved his hand and started through the door. I took a jump and caught him by the elbow. He was sputtering furiously when I swung him around, but I got my arms around him and gave him a hug. When my mouth was against his ear I whispered: "I've been upstairs in the Prog Building. _I know!_" He stared at me and his jaw dropped. After a couple of vague gestures with his hands he motioned me in with a jerk of his head. I marched straight into the controller's office and almost fell down dead. The stabilizer was there. Yeah, old Jehovah Groating himself, standing before the window. All he needed was the stone tablets in his arms--or is it thunderbolts? I felt very, very sober, my friends, and not very smart any more because the stabilizer is a sobering sight no matter how you kid about him. I nodded politely and waited for the controller to shut the door. I was wishing I could be on the other side of the door. Also I was wishing I'd never gone upstairs into the Prog Building. The controller said: "This is John Carmichael, Mr. Groating, a reporter for the _Times_." We both said: "How-d'you-do?" only Groating said it out loud. I just moved my lips. The controller said: "Now, Carmichael, what's this about the Prog Building?" "I went upstairs, sir." He said: "You'll have to speak a little louder." I cleared my throat and said: "I went upstairs, sir." "You what!" "W-went upstairs." This time lightning really did flash from the C-S's eyes. I said: "If I've made trouble for anyone, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to get up there for years and ... and when I got the chance today, I couldn't resist it--" Then I told them how I sneaked up and what I did. * * * * * The controller made a terrible fuss about the whole affair, and I knew--don't ask me how, I simply knew--that something drastic was going to be done about it unless I talked plenty fast. By this time, though, the clues in my head were beginning to fall into place. I turned directly to the C-S and I said: "Sir, Prog stands for Prognostication, doesn't it?" There was silence. Finally Groating nodded slowly. I said: "You've got some kind of fortuneteller up there. You go up every afternoon and get your fortune told. Then you come out and tell the press about it as though you all thought it up by yourselves. Right?" The controller sputtered, but Groating nodded again. I said: "This afternoon the end of the Universe was prognosticated." Another silence. At last Groating sighed wearily. He shut the controller up with a wave of his hand and said: "It seems Mr. Carmichael does know enough to make things awkward all around."