SAM Falkirk sat at his desk and tried to convince himself that he was doing work of vital necessity and great responsibility. He didn’t succeed. The necessity was there, he supposed; someone had to be in charge of the policing of the World Council buildings, and the responsibility was there, too. As Major Hendricks, his immediate superior, had once told him, “You wipe their noses, hold their hands and do everything but tuck them into bed at night.” He had been talking about the senators and their staffs.
Responsible or not, Sam had noticed that none of his superiors felt it necessary for them to be stationed at the World Council Headquarters. They were at the Polar Base or supervising the examination teams scattered over the globe. Sam would have liked to be one of them. Keeping an eye on
