During their temporary rifts, Miss Bass and Miss Fromme would circle the Section independently, each recounting the shortcomings of her friend. Newcomers to the office were sometimes misled into agreeing on these occasions, and even into adding their own parallel observations on the matter. All criticisms garnered by this means were subsequently exchanged by the two friends as part of their ritual of reconciliation.

“It’s hard to understand Dinah’s motivations. Obviously she won’t resign, and she’ll get herself marked as a troublemaker with Personnel. It’s all so negative.”

“Of course she won’t resign. Nobody resigns. Even supposing this inheritance paid her rent, she couldn’t live off her separation pay. And what would she do with herself? She needs a group relationship, like the rest of us. She needs work she can identify with. Say what you like about the Organization, Cornelia, it’s meaningful.”

“This is true.”

“It spoils us for work elsewhere, our involvement here with a realistic system of values.”

“And Dinah does work hard, of course.”

“That’s just overcompensating. Compulsive.” Miss Bass shook her head. “All right, I can’t resist, but this is the last.”

“She says herself that she wants to go on with her work here.”

“That proves that this inheritance can’t be much. No, Dinah’s simply trying it out. When she adjusts to her new situation, we won’t hear any more about it. All she’ll have done is to defer her chances of a Subsidiary D. It’s self-destructive.” Miss Bass lit a cigarette.

The two friends sat quietly for a moment. Then Miss Bass said, “But Dinah’s a good person.”

Miss Fromme nodded. “A warm human being.”

“Yes, come in, Lidia.”

Lidia Korabetski shut the door and, since Gregory was still writing, sat down in the chair opposite his desk. Gregory was her chief. His desk was heaped with the spoils of chieftainship—a stack of memoranda for signature, each with file attached, a pile of flagged reports in manuscript, another pile of freshly mimeographed ones. These trophies at no place overlapped: Gregory was an orderly man.

“Sorry, had to get this out.” Gregory was a polite man. He pushed the routing slip he had written under a paper clip on the front of a file and tossed the file into the Out-tray. “Now look, I wanted to tell you—your friend did ask to see me, and I’ve just had a talk with her.”

Lidia put her hand on the gray curve of the desk edge. “Thanks so much, I know how busy you are with the Governing Body. I wouldn’t have suggested it if she weren’t someone special.”

“Well of course, you’re absolutely right—she’s preposterously under-graded, and she could be doing better things in any case. Since she’s worked on reports practically her whole twelve years in Social, she could be very useful to us here.”

“Exactly what I thought.”