“I mean, Yes, I am too dissatisfied, Mr. Bekkus.”

Mr. Bekkus covered his surprise with a veneer of forbearance. He even smiled—a patient smile, an administrative smile, a smile that bespoke experience and concern. “It’s natural that you should feel disappointed,” he began.

“Yes, sir.”

“But, as I’ve just explained to you,” continued Mr. Bekkus, smiling less, “if you take the overall view, you need not feel dissatisfied on a long-term basis.”

Swoboda looked steadily at Mr. Bekkus. “It is with the overall view and on the long-term basis that I feel dissatisfied,” he said.

Now it was the turn of Mr. Bekkus to be silent, though he cast about with one hand in a circular gesture, as if attempting to turn the procedural wheels that had in this moment so unaccountably ground to a halt.

Swoboda went on calmly, “And I have applied for a transfer.”

Mr. Bekkus stared. Regaining the power of speech, he said, “Words fail me.” (A poor workman will tend to blame his tools.) He emphasized the extreme gravity of the situation by putting the pencil down and folding his hands before him on the blotter. “Swoboda,” he said very quietly, as if Swoboda were a dangerous lunatic, “why did you do that?”

“Because,” replied Swoboda, “of the long-term basis.”

“What do you complain of? Your relationships here have been good.” Mr. Bekkus took up the pencil again and began a series of ticks on his blotter. “Your working conditions are not unpleasant.” He made a second tick. “You got your within-grade increment.” (His tone so clearly implied “What more do you want?” that Swoboda almost smiled.) “Your functions have been meaningful.”

“No Mr. Bekkus.”

“Do you have some specific problem?”

“The documents.”

“The documentation?” Bekkus was baffled. “The documentation?”

“The SAGG documents. They have become a burden. You may have noticed that.”

Bekkus shrugged. “I have been dimly aware,” he said. It was the best description he had ever given of his general state of mind. He took up a more aggressive approach. “This transfer, when did you request it?”

“About six weeks ago.”

“Your application—was it made verbally or just orally?” Mr. Bekkus was fond of this imaginary distinction.

“I requested an interview with a Mr. Yu in Lateral Substitutions.”

“But did you actually see him—visually, that is?”

Swoboda nodded. “The matter was to be confidential until a vacancy came up. However, I prefer to tell you now.”

“I should have been consulted at the outset.” Bekkus was getting angry. “Is this the normal procedure?”

“Yu said so.”