lessening the penalty. But—"

"Would the penalty be less if there had been a woman? Is that what you mean?"

There was a slight stiffening of the Investigator's handsome features, hardly visible to the eye, yet subtly altering his friendly aspect into something sterner, colder. "You choose not to talk?"

"All I said was that there was no woman."

"You must have had a reason. Are you asking me to believe that you acted purely on a whim? You failed to report for work, TRH-247! You threw away an entire day's work credit against your tax debt and risked far more in penalties! No sane man would do that without a reason. And I have checked your examination reports thoroughly. You're in excellent health, mentally and physically. There is no evidence of emotional instability. This is the only defection in your record for the past ten years. Otherwise I would not even be trying to help you!"

He was too angry, Hendley thought with surprise. Was he so unused to defiance? Was it always easy for them? And suddenly Hendley knew what he was going to say. In a flash of insight he saw behind the shallow façade of fatherly wisdom before him. Here was only another man trapped by the system, another button-pusher who knew only the answers fed to him by his computer, a man too eager to be sure and safe, too anxious to have everything come out right and gain new tax credits for him. He had only to be told something he could understand—something that would fall into a familiar pattern.

"I had a reason," Hendley said.

"What, then?"

"The Merger."

Startled, the Investigator gaped at him, his composure abruptly shattered. "The Merger?"

"Yes. Maybe it was foolish, but I didn't report for work today as a protest." Hendley paused, reminded of one of the exhibits in the Historical Museum. "It was like a—a strike. That's something workers used to do long ago when they wanted to protest."

"Yes, yes, I know—go on!" the Investigator broke in eagerly.

"You wanted to know where I was this afternoon. I was in the Historical Museum. I like to go there. I like to know how things used to be. I was against the Merger all along. It—it's like we're all being swallowed up in something that's too big even to know we exist. In the old days being a 

 Prev. P 35/165 next