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“Yes, sir?”
    Barris held up the DQ form. “Who returned this? Whose writing is this? The feed-team leader?”
    “No, sir.” The monitor made a brief check. “It was Managing Director Dill who handled your form, sir.”
    Dill! Barris felt himself stiffen with indignation. “I want to talk to Dill at once.”
    “Mr. Dill is in conference. He can’t be disturbed.”
    Barris killed the screen with a savage swipe. For a moment he stood thinking. There was no doubt of it; Jason Dill was stalling. I can’t go on like this any further, Barris thought. I’ll never get any answers out of Geneva this way.
What is Dill up to, for God’s
sake?
    Why is Dill refusing to cooperate with his own Directors?
    Over a year, and no statement from Vulcan 3 on the Healers. Or had there been, and Dill hadn’t released it?
    With a surge of disbelief, he thought, Can Dill be keeping back information from the computer? Not letting it know what’s going on?
    Can it be that Vulcan 3 does not know about the Healers
at
all?
    That simply did not seem credible. What ceaseless mass effort that would take on Dill’s part; billions of data were fed to Vulcan 3 in one week alone; surely it would be next to impossible to keep all mention of the Movement from the great machine. And if any datum got in at all, the computer would react; it would note the datum, compare it with all other data, record the incongruity.
    And, Barris thought, if Dill is concealing the existence of the Movement from Vulcan 3, what would be his motive? What would he gain by deliberately depriving himself—and Unity in general—of the computer’s appraisal of the situation?
    But that has been the situation for fifteen months, Barris realized. Nothing has been handed down to us from Vulcan 3, and either the machine has said nothing, or, if it has, Dill hasn’t released it. So for all intents and purposes, the computer has
not
spoken.
    What a basic flaw in the Unity structure, he thought bitterly. Only one man is in a position to deal with the computer, so that one man can cut us off completely; he can sever the world from Vulcan 3. Like some high priest who stands between man and god, Barris mused. It’s obviously wrong. But what can we do? What can
I
do? I may be supreme authority in this region, but Dill is still my superior; he can remove me any time he wants. True it would be a complex and difficult procedure to remove a Director against his will, but it has been done several times. And if I go and accuse him of—
    Of what?
    He’s doing something, Barris realized, but there’s no way I can make out what it is. Not only do I have no facts, but I can’t even see my way clearly enough to phrase an accusation. After all, I did fill out the DQ form improperly; that’s a fact. And if Dill wants to say that Vulcan 3 simply has said nothing about the Healers, no one can contradict him because no one else has access to the machine. We have to take his word.
    Barris thought, But I’ve had enough of taking his word. Fifteen months is long enough; the time has come to take action. Even if it means my forced resignation.
    Which it probably will mean, and right away.
    A job, Barris decided, isn’t that important. You have to be able to trust the organization you’re a part of; you have to believe in your superiors. If you think they’re up to something, you have to get up from your chair and do something, even if it’s nothing more than to confront them face-to-face and demand an explanation.
    Reaching out his hand, he relit the vidscreen. “Give me the field. And hurry it up.”
    After a moment the field-tower monitor appeared. “Yes, sir?”
    “This is Barris. Have a first-class ship ready at once. I’m taking off right away.”
    “Where to, sir?”
    “To Geneva,” Barris set his jaw grimly. “I have an appointment with Managing Director Dill.” He added under his breath, “Whether Dill likes it or not.”
    As the ship carried him at high velocity toward