by Fritz Leiber
And you allowed him to get away before we even got here."
One of Hackett's men came up and said, "Not a sign of him, Steve. Heevidently burned a few papers, packed a suitcase, and took off. His thingslook suspiciously as though he was ready to go into hiding at a moment'snotice."
Steve growled to him, "Give the place the works. He's probably left someclues around that'll give us a line."
The other went off and Steve Hackett sat down in one of the leather chairsand glowered at Larry Woolford. "Listen," he said, "what did you peoplewant with Susan Self?"
Larry shook his head for clarity and looked at him. "Susan? What are youtalking about? You don't have any aspirin, do you?"
"No. What'd you mean, what am I talking about? You called Betsy Hughes andthen sent a couple of men over to pick the Self kid up."
"Who's Betsy Hughes?"
Steve shook his head. "I don't know what kind of knockout drops the oldboy gave you, but they sure worked. Betsy's the operative we had mindingSusan Self over in the Greater Washington Hilton. About an hour ago yougot her on the phone, said your department wanted to question Susan, andthat you were sending two men over to pick her up. The two men turned upwith an order from you, and took the girl."
Larry stared at him. Finally he said, "What time is it?"
"About two o'clock."
Larry said, "I came into this house in the morning, talked to theProfessor for about half an hour and then was silly enough to let him giveme some loaded coffee. He was such a weird old buzzard that it neveroccurred to me he might be dangerous. At any rate, I've been unconsciousfor several hours. I _couldn't've_ called this Betsy Hughes operative ofyours."
It was Steve Hackett's turn to stare.
"You mean your department doesn't have Susan Self?"
"Not so far as I know. The Boss told me yesterday that we were pullingout, that it was all in your hands. What would we want with Susan?"
"Oh, great," Steve snarled. "There goes our last contact. Ernest Self,Professor Voss, and now Susan Self; they've all disappeared."
"Look," Larry said unhappily, "let's get me some aspirin and then let's goand see my chief. I have a sneaking suspicion our department is back onthis case."
Steve snorted sarcastically. "If you can foul things up this well whenyou're off the case, God only knows what you'll accomplish using yourfacilities on an all-out basis."
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The Boss said slowly, "Whoever we are working against evidently isn'tshort of resources. Abducting that young lady was no simple matter." Thecareer diplomat worked his lips in and out, in all but a pout.
Larry Woolford, who'd taken time out to go home, shower, change clothesand medicate himself out of his dope induced hangover, sat across the deskfrom him, flanked by Steve Hackett.
The Boss said sourly, "It would seem that I was in error. That our youngSusan Self was not spouting fantasy. There evidently actually is anunderground movement interested in changing our institutions." He stirredin his chair and his scowl went deeper. "And evidently working on a basisnever conceived of by subversive organizations of the past. The fact thatthey have successfully remained secret even to this department is theprime indication that they are attempting to make their revolutionarychanges in a unique manner."
Larry said, "The trouble is, we don't even know what it is they want."
"However," his superior said slowly, "we are beginning to get inklings."
Steve Hackett said, "What inklings, sir? This sort of thing might beroutine for you people, but my field is counterfeit. I, frankly, don'tknow what it's all about."
The Boss looked at him. "We have a clue or two, Mr. Hackett. For onething, we know that this Movement of ours has no affiliations with theSoviet Complex, nor, so far as we know, any foreign element whatsoever. Ifwe take Miss Self's word, it is strictly an American phenomenon. From whatlittle we know of Ernest Self and Peter Voss they might be in revoltagainst some of our current institutions but there is no reason to believethem, ah, _un-American_ in the usually accepted sense of the word."
The two younger men looked at him as though he was joking.
He shook his heavy head negatively. "Actually, what do we have on thisso-called Movement thus far? Aside from treating Lawrence, here, to someknockout drops--and let us remember that Lawrence was present in theProfessor's home without a warrant--all we have is the suspicion that theyhave manufactured a quantity of counterfeit."
"A _quantity_ is right," Steve Hackett blurted. "If we're to accept whatthat Self kid told us, they have a few billion dollars worth of perfectbills on hand."
"A strange amount for counterfeiters to produce," The Boss saiduncomfortably. "That is what puzzles me. Any revolutionary movement needsfunds. Remember Stalin as a young man? He used to be in charge of theBolshevik gang which robbed banks to raise funds for their undergroundnewspapers. But a billion dollars? What in the world can they expect toneed that amount for?"
Larry said, "Sir, you keep talking as though these characters were a bunchof idealistic do-gooders bleeding for the sake of the country. Actually,from what we know, they're nothing but a bunch of revolutionists."
The Boss was shaking his head. "You're not thinking clearly, Lawrence.Revolution, _per se_, is not illegal in the United States. OurConstitution was probably the first document of its kind which allowed forits own amendment. The men who wrote it provided for changing it eitherslightly or _in toto_. Whenever the majority of the American people decidecompletely to abandon the Constitution and govern themselves by new laws,they have the right to do it."
"Then what's the whole purpose of this department, sir?" Larry argued."Why've we been formed to combat foreign and domestic subversion?"
His chief sighed. "You shouldn't have to ask that, Lawrence. The presentgovernment cannot oppose the will of the majority if it votes, byconstitutional methods, to make any changes it wishes. But we can, and do,unmask the activities of anyone trying to overthrow the government byforce and violence. Any culture protects itself against that."
"What are we getting at, sir?" Steve Hackett said, impatiently.
The Boss shrugged. "I'm trying to point out that so far as my departmentis concerned, thus far we have little against this Movement. SecretService may have, what with this wholesale counterfeiting, even thoughthus far they seem to have made no attempt to pass the currency they haveallegedly manufactured. We wouldn't even know of it, weren't it for ouryoung Susan pilfering an amount."
Larry said, desperately, "Sir, you just pointed out a few minutes ago thatthis Movement is a secret organization trying to make changes in someunique manner. In short, they don't figure on using the ballot to put overtheir revolution. That makes them as illegal as the Commies, doesn't it?"
The Boss said, "That's the difficulty; we don't know what they want. Fromyour conversations with Susan Self and especially Professor Voss,evidently they think the country needs some basic changes. What thesechanges are, and how they expect to accomplish them, we don't know. Unlessa foreign government is involved, or unless they plan to alter ourinstitutions by violence, this department just doesn't have muchjurisdiction."
Steve Hackett snorted, "Secret Service does! If those bales of money theSelf kid told us about are ever put into circulation, there'll be hell topay."
The Boss sighed. "Well," he said, "Lawrence can continue on theassignment. If it develops in such manner as to indicate that thisdepartment is justified in further investigation, we'll put more men onit. Meanwhile, it is obviously more a Secret Service matter. I am sorry tointrude upon your vacation again, Lawrence."
On awakening in the morning, Larry Woolford stared glumly at the ceilingfor long moments before dragging himself from bed. This was, he decided,the strangest assignment he'd ever been on. In his day he'd trekkedthrough South America, Common Europe, a dozen African states, and evenareas of Southern Asia, combatting Commie pressures here, fellow-travelerorganizations there, disrupting plots hatched in the Soviet Complex
in theother place. On his home grounds in the United States he'd coveredeverything from out and out Soviet espionage, to exposing Communistactivities of complexions from the faintest of pinks to the rosiestTrotskyite red. But, he decided he'd never expected to wind up after abunch of weirds whose sole actionable activity to date seemed to be thecounterfeiting of a fantastic amount of legal tender which thus far theywere making no attempt to pass.
He got out of bed and went through the rituals of showering, shaving andclothing, of coffee,
