Pederson bristled. "Sure. Sure, you have it! My past connection, my opposition to the lobby, even my digging maybe. But you don't have it all! How do you equate _hate_, Beardsley? Is _that_ on your tapes?" Beardsley could have told him that it was, indeed, on the tapes. But he only shook his head. "No," he said slowly, "we don't have it all. Not ECAIAC nor I nor any of us, and that's the eternal pity of it. But I'd like to try! The sum and the substance, Pederson ... don't you understand me? Just once before I'm through--" * * * * * It was the voice, some secret and subtle thing in the voice that reached out and gripped Pederson and bore meaning with it. He stood quite motionless, staring at Beardsley; for a split second his eyes widened, then disbelief gave way to something of comprehension, admiration. "Beardsley," he said softly. "You fool. You utter damned fool!" Oblivious of the others, then, he turned and began to pace. "All right. Here it is. Carmack called me out to see him. He had gotten wind of what I was up to, and offered to buy me off." Pederson laughed bitterly. "Wasn't even subtle about it! Said he liked my stuff, and would like to see me at the top again where I belonged. Said he could arrange for me to step into a top job at Central Telecast. Providing, of course, I could manage to--ah--'forget' certain little items I'd uncovered." * * * * * Pederson was doing all right. Beardsley gave him his lead. "He actually thought it would be that simple! I refused him outright, and of course, he couldn't believe it. A man like that--We dropped all pretense, there were some bitter words--" Beardsley said quickly, "Could you elaborate?" "Oh, I don't remember exactly. He went venomous! I suppose there were threats. I told him he hadn't enough money _or_ influence to buy what I knew, and that when I had it properly documented I intended to make a national scandal of it." Pederson halted abruptly. "You know, it occurred to me later that was a foolhardy thing to say!" "Ah? Why is that?" "Well, I had heard of that safeguard of his--the 'neuro-vibe'--and I suppose there were other things, too. He was a cautious man, a dangerous man. But," Pederson shrugged, "he let me into his home readily enough." Beardsley lifted a finger. "Because he was confident he was going to buy you--wouldn't you say?" "I suppose that's it. Maybe I was lucky to get out of there so easily! Anyway I did." Pederson stopped pacing, and his gaze bored into Beardsley's. "So now to the big question. Yes, he was alive when I left him. No, I never saw Carmack again. I went straight to my office and worked until well past midnight; by the way, I have ample proof of that--" "Yes, I'm sure you do! What were your feelings at this point?" "My feelings? I knew my life was in danger now! Carmack would be out to stop me. I don't mind admitting I was ... well, rather relieved, when I heard the news."