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head, plugged in the powersupply and looked around the room. Finally, he glanced at his superior.A shadow of uncertainty crossed his face, followed by a quicklysuppressed expression of distaste.

  Morely watched him. "Well?" he demanded impatiently, "I don't feel orsee anything unusual."

  "Of course not, sir," explained Bond smoothly. "You haven't put on theother headband yet."

  "Oh? I thought you could establish communication with only one headset,so long as you were in the same room."

  Bond smiled ingratiatingly. "Only sometimes, sir. Some people are moresusceptible than others."

  "I see." Morely looked again at the headband, then set it on his head.One of the engineers hurried forward to help him with the power pack,and he looked around the room, becoming conscious of slight sensationsof outside thought. As he glanced at the engineers, he received faintimpressions of anxious interest.

  "_Can you receive me, sir?_"

  Morely looked at Bond. The younger man was staring at him with anintense expression on his face. The district leader started to speak,then remembered and simply thought the words.

  "_Of course I can. Didn't you expect results?_"

  "_Oh, certainly, sir. Do you want me to go outside for a further test?_"

  The headband was bothering Morely a little. Unwanted impressions seemedto be hovering about, uncomfortably outside the range of recognition. Hetook the device off and looked at it again.

  "No," he said aloud. "It won't be necessary. It's obvious to me thatthis thing will never be any good for practical application in anycommunity communications problem. It's too vague. But it'll make aninteresting toy, I suppose. Some people might like it as a novelty, andit'll give them some incentive to do extra work in order to own one.That's what luxury items are for. And the district can use any royaltyfunds it may generate."

  He laid the headband on his desk. "Go ahead and produce a few samples.Offer the designs to Graham's employer. He can offer them on the luxurymarket, if he wishes, and we'll see what they do. If people want them,it might be profitable, both for the district and for Consolidated." Heshrugged.

  "No telling what'll make people spend their credits." He started to noda dismissal, then hesitated.

  "Oh, yes. I think I'll keep this one," he added. "And you might leave acouple more. The regional director might be amused by them."

  He accepted the two headbands and their power packs, put them in a deskdrawer, and sat back to watch the three men leave the office.

  * * * * *

  After the door closed, he still sat, idly staring at the headband on hisdesk. He put it on his head again, then sat, looking about the room.There was no unusual effect, and he took the band off again, looked atit sourly, and laid it down.

  Somehow, when Bond and those other two had been in the room, he hadsensed a vague feeling of expectancy. Those three had seemed to beenthusiastic and hopeful about something, he was sure. But he failed tosee what. This headband certainly showed him nothing.

  He stared at the band for a while longer, then put it back on andpunched the call button on his desk. As his clerk came into sight, hewatched the man closely. There _was_ a slight effect. He could sense avague fear. And a little, gnawing hatred. But nothing was definite, andno details of thought came through. He shrugged.

  Of course the man was fearful. He probably was reviewing his recentmistakes, wondering which one he might be called upon to explain. Toobad his mind wasn't clear enough to read. But what could you expect?Possibly, he could drive Research into improving the device later.

  "Anyway," he told himself, "everyone has something they're afraid of.It's natural. And everyone has their pet hates, too." For an instant, hethought of Harwood.

  He focused his mind on a single thought. "_Get me the quarters file forSector Nine._"

  There was a definite effect this time. There was a sharp radiation ofpained surprise. Then, there was acquiescence. The clerk started to saysomething, then backed toward the door. The impression of fearintensified. Morely smiled sardonically. The thing was an amusing toy,at that. He might find uses for it.

  He sat back, thinking. He could use it as a detector. Coupled withshrewd reasoning, well-directed questions, and his own accurateknowledge of human failings, it could tell him a great deal about hispeople and their activities.

  For instance, a question about some suspicious circumstance would causea twinge of fear from the erring person. And that could be detected andlocalized. Further questions would produce alternate feelings of reliefand intensified fear. He nodded complacently. Very little had evergotten by him, he thought. But from now on, no error would remainundiscovered or unpunished.

  The clerk returned to place the file drawers convenient to hissuperior's desk. He hesitated a moment, his eyes on the headband, thenpicked up the completed papers from the desk and went out.

  Morely riffled through the cards, idly checked a few against his notes,and leaned back again. The file section seemed to be operating smoothly.He looked at his desk. Everything that had to be done immediately wasdone. And the morning was hardly more than half over.

  He rose to his feet. Surely, somewhere in the headquarters, there mustbe some sort of trouble spot. Somewhere, someone was not producing tothe fullest possible. There must be some loose end. And he'd find it. Hewent out, jerking a thumb back at his office as he passed his clerk'sdesk.

  "You can pick up those files again, Roberts. And see to it that myoffice gets cleaned up a little. I won't be back for a while."

  He went out, to walk down the corridor to the snack bar.

  * * * * *

  There were a few girls there. He walked by their table, glancing attheir badges. Communications people. He nodded to himself, orderedcoffee, and chose a table.

  As he glanced at the girls' table, he could detect a current ofuneasiness. They'd probably been fooling away more time than theyshould. Too bad he couldn't get more definite information from theirthoughts. Like to know just how long they had been there. He tilted hiswrist, taking a long look at his watch. The current of uneasinessincreased. No doubt to it, they'd been more than ten minutes already.

  The girls hurriedly finished their coffee and left. Morely sipped at hisown cup.

  At last, he got up and went out. Might be a good idea to visit the FixedCommunications Section. Looked as though there might be a little laxitythere.

  As he walked down the corridor, he mentally reviewed the operation ofcommunications. There was Fixed Communications, responsible forcommunicator service to all the offices and quarters in the district, aswell as to the various commercial organizations. There were also MobileComm, Warning, Long Lines, and Administrative Radio.

  Of these, the largest was Fixed Communications, with its dialequipment, its banks of video amplifiers, the network of cables, and thesubstation equipment. It would take days to thoroughly check all theiractivities. But the office was the key to the entire operation. He couldcheck their records, and get a clue to their efficiency. And he couldquestion the section chief.

  He took the elevator to the communications level and walked slowly alongthe hallway, glancing at the heavy steel door leading to Warning as hepassed it. That could be checked later, though there would be littlepoint to it.

  It had always annoyed him to think of the operators in that section.They simply sat around, doing nothing but watch their screens and keeptheir few, piddling records. They did nothing productive, but they hadto be retained. Actually, he had to admit, they were a necessity underpresent conditions. War was always a possibility and the enemy wasbuilding up his potential. He might strike at any time, and he'dcertainly not send advance notification. If he did strike, the warningteams would perform their brief mission, alerting the active, workingmembers of the defense groups. Then, they would be available fordefense. And the defense coordinators required warning teams andequipment in prescribed districts. His was one of these.

  He grumbled to himself. Even the
number of operators and theirorganization were prescribed. This was a section, right within his owndistrict, where he had little authority. And it was irritating. Drones,that's what they were.

  He continued to the Fixed Communications office. Here, at least, he hadauthority.

  He walked through the door, casting a quick glance at the office as heentered. The section chief got up from his chair, and came forward.Morely felt a little glow of satisfaction as he detected the nowfamiliar aura of uneasiness. Again, he wished this device he wore weremore effective. He would like to know the details of this man'sthoughts.

  * * * * *

  "Good morning, sir." The Fixed Communication chief saluted.

  Morely returned the salute perfunctorily, then examined the mancritically.

  "Morning,"