Flinders had no complaint. This fact alone, had it been known, would have made him an object of curiosity in the Organization.

Two days before, on his return to Headquarters, he had met Mr. Addison—a singularly small person to have been selected as opposite number to a man as tall as Flinders. Mr. Addison greeted him pleasantly and introduced him to his secretary, to whom Flinders gave, for typing, a sheaf of handwritten pages containing his suggestions for conserving and extending the plantations at El Attara. The tentative inquiries he made of Mr. Addison mostly seemed to fall within the competence of some other authority. Mr. Addison had replied anxiously, “Mr. Rodriguez-O’Hearn will tell you about that,” or “That belongs in the province of Mr. Fong,” or “You’d better ask Miss Singh in Official Records.” And, “Sorry your final check isn’t ready. Our accountant is on leave without pay.” Otherwise, all had gone smoothly.

Mr. Addison explained to Flinders that he was himself under great pressure of work, at the same time producing a ticket for a guided tour of the building. The secretary to whom Flinders had handed his manuscript then showed him where to take the Down elevator and gave him a yellow slip on which was written the time and place of this afternoon’s meeting.

Flinders looked at his watch, and turned back toward the main building. The gravel paths were narrow and at each of his impractical long strides his coat was clawed by Gay Flirtation or Pale Memory. His Rush Temporary Pass had not yet been issued and he was obliged to explain his business to the guard at the door, and once again at the cloakroom where he collected his brief case and papers. It was exactly three-thirty when he took the elevator to the meeting.

Patricio Rodriguez-O’Hearn, short, bald, blue-eyed, and in his fifties, came from Chile. His reserve was unusual in a man of Latin and Irish blood, but would not otherwise have been noticeable. He was calm and courteous and, since he made a policy of being accessible to his staff, often looked exhausted in the afternoons. Within DALTO—the Department of Aid to the Less Technically Oriented—he was responsible for the overseas assignments of experts. It was to Mr. Rodriguez that Mr. Addison and his colleagues in the Opposite Numbers Unit reported, and Mr. Rodriguez reported in his turn to the Chief Coordinator of DALTO. Rodriguez had been married twice, had a number of young children, and was known to play the piano rather well. When he sat at his desk or, as at this moment, at the head of a conference table, he would occasionally follow imaginary notes with his fingers while waiting for discussion to begin.