Status Quo

by Fritz Leiber

heaped up for him. Well, he certainly didn't have timefor them now.

  He sat down at the desk and dialed an inter-office number.

  The harassed looking face of Walter Foster faded in. On seeing LarryWoolford he growled accusingly, "My pal. You've let them dump this wholething into my lap."

  Larry grinned at him. "Better you than me, old buddy. Besides, it's apromotion. Pull this off and you'll be the Boss' right-hand man."

  "That's a laugh," Foster said. "It's a madhouse. This Movement gang is asweird as they come."

  "I bleed for you," Larry said. "However, here's a tip. Frol Eivazov, ofthe _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_ is somewhere in the country."

  "Frol Eivazov!" Foster blurted. "What've the Commies got to do with this?Is this something the Boss knows about?"

  "Haven't had time to go into it with him," Larry said. "However, it seemsthat friend Frol is here to find out what the Movement is all about.Evidently the big boys in Peking and Moscow are nervous about any changesthat might take place over here. I suggest you have him picked up, Walt."

  [Illustration.]

  Walt Foster said, "O.K. I'll put some people on it. Maybe the F.B.I. canhelp."

  Larry flicked off as he saw the red priority light on his phone shining.He pushed it and LaVerne's face faded in.

  She said, "This Franklin Nostrand you wanted to know about. He's evidentlyworking at the laboratories over in Newport News, Larry. He'll be on thejob until five this afternoon."

  "Fine," he said. Larry grinned at her. "When are we going to have thatdate, LaVerne?"

  She made a face. "Some day when the program involves having fun instead ofparading around in the right places, driving the right model car, dressedin exactly the right clothes, and above all associating with the rightpeople."

  It was his turn to grimace. "I'm beginning to think you ought to sign upwith Voss and this Movement of his. You'd be right at home with hisweirds."

  She stuck out her tongue at him, and flicked off.

  He looked at the empty screen and chuckled. He had half a mind to get arecord of their conversation, strip out just the section where she'd stuckout her tongue, and then play it back to her. She'd be taken aback bybeing confronted by her own image making faces at her.

  As he made his way to the parking lot for his car, something in theirconversation nagged at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Heconsidered the girl, all over again. She had almost all the qualities helooked for. She was attractive, without being overly so. He disliked womenout of the ordinarily beautiful, it became too much to live up to. She wassharp, but not objectionably so. Not to the point of giving you aninferiority complex.

  But, Holy Smokes, she'd never do as a career man's wife. He could just seethe Boss' ultraconservative better half inviting them to dinner. It wouldhappen exactly once, never again.

  He obtained his car, lifted it to one of the higher levels and headed forNewport News. It was a half-hour trip and he wasn't particularly expectantof results. The tip Sam Sokolski had given him, wasn't much to go by.Evidently, Frank Nostrand was a friend of the Professor's but that didn'tnecessarily mean he was connected with the movement, or that he knew Voss'whereabouts.

  He might have saved himself the trip.

  The bird had flown again. Not only was Frank Nostrand not at the MadisonAir Laboratories, but he wasn't at home either. Larry Woolford, mindful ofhis departmental chief's words on the prestige these people carried, tooka full hour in acquiring a search warrant before breaking into theNostrand home.

  Nostrand was supposedly a bachelor, but the auto-bungalow, similar toLarry Woolford's own, showed signs of double occupancy, and there waslittle indication that the guest had been a woman.

  Disgruntled, Larry Woolford dialed the offices, asked for Walt Foster. Ittook nearly ten minutes before his colleague faded in.

  "I'm up to my eyebrows, Larry. What'd you want?"

  Larry gave him Frank Nostrand's address. "This guy's disappeared, Walt."

  "So?"

  "He was a close friend of Professor Voss. I got a warrant to search hishouse. It shows signs that he had a guest. Possibly it was the Professor.Do you want to get some of the boys down here to go through the place?Possibly there's some clue to where they took off for. The Professor's onthe run and he's no professional at this. If we can pick _him_ up, I'vegot a sneaking suspicion we'll have the so-called Movement licked."

  Walt Foster slapped a hand to his face in anguish. "You knew where theProfessor was hiding, and you tried to pick him up on your own and let himget away. Why didn't you discuss this with either the Boss or me? I'm incharge of this operation! I would have had a dozen men down there. You'vefouled this up!"

  Larry stared at him. Already Walt Foster was making sounds like an enragedsuperior.

  He said mildly, "Sorry, Walt. I came down here on a very meager tip. Ididn't really expect it to pan out."

  "Well, in the future, clear with either me or the Boss before running offhalf cocked into something, Woolford. Yesterday, you had this wholeassignment on your own. Today, it's no longer a minor matter. Ourdepartment has fifty people on it. The F.B.I. must have five times as manyand that's not even counting the Secret Service's interest. It's no longeryour individual baby."

  "Sorry," Larry repeated mildly. Then, "I don't imagine you've got hold ofFrol Eivazov yet?"

  The other was disgusted. "You think we're magicians? We just put out thecall for him a few hours ago. He's no amateur. If he doesn't want to bepicked up, he'll go to ground and we'll have our work cut out for usfinding him. I can't see that it's particularly important anyway."

  "Maybe you're right," Larry said. "But you never know. He might knowthings we don't. See you later."

  Walt Foster stared at him for a moment as though about to say something,but then tightened his lips and faded off.

  Larry looked at the phone screen for a moment. "Did that phony expect meto call him _sir_," he muttered.

  -------------------------------------

  The next two days dissolved into routine.

  Frustrated, Larry Woolford spent most of his time in his office digestingdevelopments, trying to find a new line of attack.

  For want of something else, he put his new secretary, a brightly efficientgirl, as style and status conscious as LaVerne Polk wasn't, to work typingup the tapes he'd had cut on Susan Self and the various phone calls he'dhad with Hans Distelmayer and Sam Sokolski. From memory, he dictated toher his conversation with Professor Peter Voss.

  He carefully read the typed sheets over and over again. He continually hadthe feeling in this case that there were loose ends dangling around.Several important points he should be able to put his finger upon.

  On the morning of the third day he dialed Steve Hackett and on seeing theother's worried, pug-ugly face fade in on the phone, decided that ifnothing else the Movement was undermining the United States government bydispensing ulcers to its employees.

  Steve growled, "What is it Woolford? I'm as busy as a whirling dervish ina revolving door."

  "This is just the glimmer of an idea, Steve. Look, remember thatconversation with Susan, when she described her father taking her toheadquarters?"

  "So?" Steve said impatiently.

  "Remember her description of headquarters?"

  "Go on," Steve rapped.

  "What did it remind you of?"

  "What are you leading to?"

  "This is just a hunch," Larry persisted, "but the way she described themanner in which her father took her to headquarters suggests they're inthe Greater Washington area."

  Steve was staring at him disgustedly. How obvious could you get?

  Larry hurried on. "What's the biggest business in this area, Steve?"

  "Government."

  "Right. And the way she described headquarters of the Movement, was rooms,after rooms, after rooms into which they'd stored the money."

  "And?"

  Larry said urgently, "Steve, I think in s
ome way the Movement has takenover some governmental buildings, or storage warehouse. Possibly someolder buildings no longer in use. It would be a perfect hideout. Who wouldexpect a subversive organization to be in governmental buildings? Allthey'd need would be a few officials here and there who were on their sideand--"

  Steve said wearily, "You couldn't have thought of this two days ago."

  Larry cut himself off sharply, "Eh?"

  Steve said, "We found their headquarters. One of their members