Still, Ballon had a government to answer to. And that government was not fond of the United States. They were in the throes of intense, renewed nationalism, to the extent that they were tossing English words from their vocabulary, American foods off their menus, and Hollywood films off their movie screens. The idea that the French were in a position to help the U.S. was unsettling. The thought that he might have to go to those America-bashers was even more unnerving. The notion that they would even help the U.S. was positively absurd.

Alberto said, "Bernard's got a problem at home and has been looking into a possible connection between hostile elements in France and Germany. He contacted the Big I last month, and they contacted Darrell. Darrell helped Bernard get some information he needed."

"The Big I" was open-line slang for Interpol. Darrell was not only Op-Center's liaison with the FBI, but he interfaced with Interpol and other international anti-crime organizations as well.

"What kind of information did Bernard want?" Herbert asked. He was still drumming on the armrest. He really, really didn't want to go to the French.

"That data is not in the file," Alberto said. "It's eyes only. I'll have to go to Darrell for it."

"Do," Herbert said, "and call me as soon as you have something."

"Okay," Alberto said. "Is there a secure line you can get to?"

"I won't have time for that," Herbert said. "You'll have to take a chance and call me on the chair. Also, brief General Rodgers."

"Of course. And since he's going to ask, where do I tell him you'll be?"

Herbert said, "Tell him I'm going to check out a few Chaos theories."

"Ah," said Alberto, "it's that time of the year, isn't it?"

"Right," Herbert said. "The annual diseased maniacs' convention. Which brings me to question number two. Have you got anything there on where the hub of these Chaos Days activities usually is?"

"Like a hospitality suite?" Alberto said.

"Not funny," Herbert said.

"Sorry," Alberto said. "Searching."

Herbert could hear the tap of the computer keys.

"Yes," Alberto said. "For the past two years, many conventioneers have kicked off events with a six P.M. toast at the Beer-Hall in Hanover."

"Why am I not surprised," Herbert said. Munich's infamous Beer-Hall Putsch of 1923 was when Hitler had made his first, failed attempt at seizing power in Germany. Only where Hitler failed, these men obviously intended to succeed.

The second half of Herbert's time on the telephone was spent tracking down an automobile with hand-operated gas and brake pedals. Several companies hired handicapped-accessible cars with drivers, but Herbert didn't want that. He intended to look for intelligence in the heart of the Chaos Days celebration, and didn't want to put a driver at risk.