The environs of Kabul were not the only locality to benefit in this way. Those who served the Organization in DALTO projects throughout the world soon began to give an impression of being divided into two groups: those who had volunteered for such service, and those who had displeased Miss Sadie Graine. The senior officers of Pylos’s staff were dedicated men; in order to conserve their efforts the more completely for the far-flung needy of the world, they took the precaution of doing nothing for those close to them. One or two who fell below this lofty standard and intervened on behalf of their subordinates were quickly eliminated by Miss Graine.

Of the more junior staff, some—and particularly those who foresaw a sojourn in Kabul—condemned Pylos. Others, of larger nature, contended that he was a weak man but a man of goodwill. Whatever their view, not a day passed without their taking some stock of the situation. Over their typewriters, over their desks, over their morning coffee, over a period of five years, the staff of Pylos recounted to one another, week in, week out, successive chapters in the tale of Sadie Graine.

With regard to the less technically oriented, all the efforts of Miss Graine were required to shield Pylos from troublesome ambiguities. He sincerely wished to assist the laggard lands commended to his care. Yet he looked about him at the fully oriented, and in his heart he wondered. Was this the state of mind one sought to purvey to the less privileged? It was true that the grievous condition of many of the countries assisted by DALTO seemed to justify almost anything that was done to them—providing, as it were, a mandate for any change, the bad along with the good.

About the development process, there appeared to be no half measures: once a country had confessed to backwardness, it could hope for no quarter in the matter of improvement. It could not accept a box of pills without accepting, in principle, an atomic reactor. Progress was a draught that must be drained to the last bitter drop.

Once, after a day-long conference on Civic Coordination projects, it occurred to Pylos that progress might have taken different, unimagined forms; but he soon dismissed this idea for what it was, the result of mental strain. Occasionally he wondered if more thought might not have been given to the ultimate consequences of such drastic technical change—change about which, indeed, the word “impact” was frequently used. More thought—but by whom? Not by Pylos. Pylos was intent on staying on top of things, not getting to the bottom of them. If there was one thing Pylos didn’t go for it was being asked to consider complexities at any length and for their own sake. He could turn quite nasty if pressed to do so.

Achilles Pylos could only hope that the backward nations, once technically oriented, would make some happier use of this condition than their mentors had.