When They Come from Space Read Free

help in running my department, to say nothing of my personal affairs, and he seemed glad to demonstrate he could do things I couldn't. He was willing for me to sit down and watch how much weight he could swing around the Pentagon.
    But as the series of frustrating telephone calls wore out the long morning, he progressed from high confidence, to exasperation, to self-disciplined patience, to bewilderment, to anger, to defeat.
    He sat back finally in his overstuffed chair, beetled his heavy brows, and peered at me suspiciously across the desk.
    "You say you didn't apply for the job. Let's say I believe you."
    I straightened up from a weary slouch and raised my hand in the scout-oath position.
    "Wouldn't have done you any good if you had,” he rumbled from somewhere down in the granite façade. “After some of the things you've done to some of those officers, you'd have been turned down like a shot. They all agree with me that the sheer safety of our nation depends on keeping you away from the Pentagon. They emphatically would go far beyond the call of duty to keep you away. After some of the things you've done to them."
    "Well, then?” I asked. I might not be exactly flattered, but at least it looked hopeful.
    "So they're all hot to intercede until I mention it is Space Navy. Then they cool down a bit."
    "But Space Navy still speaks to the rest of them, doesn't it? At the top, of course."
    "Then when I mention it is the Extraterrestrial Psychology Department they back off and want no part of trying to spring you. Sandfordwaithe says maybe they need you in that department after all, that no sacrifice is too great for the rest of the Pentagon, if ... He didn't say, if what. Something's going on, and they're as skittish as an old maid in a pool hall.” I didn't smile. I have never been accused of being an organization man.
    "All those jabbing pool cues..."
    "I know, I got the picture,” I said sourly. “I'm thinking there's now just forty-four more hours until I'm court-martialed for high treason. I'm practically swinging from the gallows tree, and you're daydreaming about ... Well, so what'm I going to do?"
    "Guess you'd better make the trip,” he said slowly. “Somehow I think maybe Computer Research wouldn't have to close its doors if you were gone for a day or so. You go see this bird, this Kibbie fellow. You tell him, in person, you're not the man he thought you were. Soon as he sees you, he'll believe it. But it looks like it has to be in person. I can't get even a general or an admiral to so much as call him on the phone."
    "And I saw the run-around you got when you tried to get through to Kibbie yourself,” I had to admit. “So I suppose I'd better go. On expense account?"
    He rared up at that.
    "It's your personal neck,” he roared. “Why should the company have to pay for saving it?"
    "Now, Henry.” I looked at him and shook my head sadly.
    "Oh, all right. I'll set it up. I was going to, anyway.” There was a fleeting crack in the granite of his face. He'd been kidding me—I hoped. He settled back comfortably in his chair.
    "I wonder what's going on?” he mused thoughtfully, and put his finger tips together. “There's something they're not telling us. You find out what it is, Ralphie, my boy."
    I sprang up out of my chair as if I'd been stung.
    "Yeah,” I said coldly, bitterly, and stood glaring down at him. “And see if we can't get the job of making a computer to solve it, whatever it is. You couldn't possibly pay my expenses just because it's me; just because of all the years I've worked my heart out for dear old Computer Research."
    I whirled around angrily and started for the door. His voice, slow and measured, followed me, stopped me.
    "We got a Board of Directors,” he was saying. “We got Stockholders. If it took one lousy nickel out of their pockets to save you, they'd see you hang without batting an eye. You know that, well as I do. But now, say, suppose it was my best judgment to send you