He had the courses to Mars and Venus thoroughly charted--but considered a trip to Jupiter somewhat impractical. So, what with Dane's presence and the mysterious white streaks that so often shot up into the sky like fuzzy yarn from the AFDC base, it wasn't hard to guess what was going on. Nevertheless Professor Dane was surprised and somewhat offended when the young man from the Federal Bureau of Investigation came to call on him one afternoon. And the worst part of it was that the young man didn't have much sense of humor. "As you know, sir," the young man said, "we've been sighting and tracking these unidentified objects in the sky. You must have read about those they chased near Atlanta yesterday." "Ah," said Professor Dane. "Martian through Georgia, no doubt." The young man stared at him blankly. He seemed to Professor Dane one of the most nondescript young men his eyes had ever beheld. He had a clean-shaven, pleasant face without exactly being handsome and his eyes were sincere and mild. He wore a neat gray tropical worsted suit and an unobtrusive tie. He was about thirty. Professor Dane supposed that all this was an advantage in his profession. The young man went on--earnestly. "Without forming any theories about these things we've been asked to take certain precautions. I don't know whether they suspect a hostile power, or what. That's not my job. At any rate I've been given the responsibility of instituting certain security techniques. You do after all, sir, have access to and knowledge of considerable classified information." This lad reminded him somewhat of his old friend and colleague, Dr. Fincher, out in California. Wally Fincher was a well-known physicist now, though how anyone ever managed to struggle through his dry ponderous books Dane didn't know. Probably he had gained most of his fame through his part in those experiments where they bounced radar blips off the moon, Dane thought. Wally always talked in long unnecessary words. He never merely "went" when he could "proceed," he never simply "used" when it was possible to "utilize," he didn't "get things done"--he "implemented" them. Professor Dane made a mental note to put in a long distance call to Wally that evening and tweak his nose a bit. Maybe Dane could pretend he was the FBI--disguise his voice and interrogate Wally, as though he were investigating him. He chuckled a little at the idea. Then he realized that the young man had been talking and he hadn't been listening. "... so among other things, sir, we thought it best to monitor your official mail and hope you won't mind." "What?" said Dane, raising his eyebrows. "_And_ your phone. You'll hear a couple of clicks whenever you use it. We're recording what's said over it--though I assure you all records obtained will be kept in strictest confidence." * * * * *