He sought words with care, for he must decide what to do, even though it seemed remote and scarcely important. “That’s not an easy question to answer,” he said.

“The significant ones never are.”

Astonished, Herries jerked a glance upward and back. (And was the more surprised that he could still know surprise.) But the little man’s face was in darkness. Herries saw only a wan blank glitter off the glasses.

He said, “Let’s put it this way. There are limits even to the right of self-defense. If a killer attacks me, I can fight back with anything I’ve got. But I wouldn’t be justified in grabbing some passing child for a shield.”

“So you wished to make sure that nothing you would consider illegitimate was in those boxes?” asked Symonds academically.

“I don’t know. What is illegitimate, these days? I was…I was disgusted. I liked Greenstein, and he died because Washington had decided we couldn’t have bombs or atomic shells. I just didn’t know how much more I could consent to. I had to find out.”

“I see.” The clerk nodded. “For your information, it is all agricultural equipment. Later shipments will include industrial and scientific material, a large reserve of canned food, and as much of the world’s culture as it proves possible to microfilm.”

Herries stopped working, turned around and rose. His knees would not hold him. He leaned against the crate and it was a minute before he could get out: “Why?”

Symonds did not respond at once. He reached forth a precise hand and took up the flashlight Herries had left on the barrel. Then he sat down there himself, with the two glowing tubes in his lap. The light from below ridged his face in shadows, and his glasses made blind circles. He said, as if ticking off the points of an agenda:

“You would have been informed of the facts in due course, when the next five hundred people arrive. Now you have brought on yourself the burden of knowing what you would otherwise have been ignorant of for months yet. I think it may safely be assumed that you will keep the secret and not be broken by it. At least, the assumption is necessary.”

Herries heard his own breath harsh in his throat. “Who are these people?”

The papery half-seen countenance did not look at him, but into the pit-like reaches of the shed. “You have committed a common error,” said Symonds, as if to a student. “You have assumed that because men are constrained by circumstances to act in certain ways, they must be evil or stupid. I assure you, Senator Wien and the few others responsible for this are neither. They must keep the truth even from those officials within the project whose reaction would be rage or panic instead of a sober attempt at salvage. Nor do they have unlimited powers. Therefore, rather than indulge in tantrums about the existing situation, they use it. The very compartmentalization of effort and knowledge enforced by Security helps conceal their purposes and mislead those who must be given some information.”