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long room with rows of programming decks and memory retrieval banks. The guard delivered him to a young lieutenant. Hammond showed him the confiscated red flag.
    "Lieutenant, if this came through the pneumatic chute—"
    "The Hoover, sir." The lieutenant grinned helpfully.
    Hammond smiled back. "Where would it come out? Who would get it?"
    "Ensign Cokeland, sir, right over there." He pointed to a flatbed programming desk. Sitting in front of it was a little brunette given to a degree of plumpness, all of it pleasing. She smiled as Hammond introduced himself and became terribly bright and alert when he produced the red card.
    "Oh, yes, sir. We get a few of those now and then. I feed the information right into this computer."
    "What information?"
    "Everything that's on the red card and some items from the white card that has to accompany it." Hammond nodded. He produced a blank white card, which he had liberated from the chiefs supply, and filled it out for her, using Yablonski's name as the subject of his inquiry and his own as the inquirer.
    "Now, show me exactly what you do with all this."
    She examined the two cards, poised herself over the computer teletype, then asked, "You don't want me to send it through, do you?"
    "No. Just write it out exactly the way it would go in."
    She copied down names and numbers and, when she was through, showed him a card:
     
    9805CGN-166
    YABLONSKI, C.L. 2194557 USNR
    HAMMOND, N. 573-58-6641 USN NIS
     
    "The first line is the routing," she said. "The second is the subject, and the third is the person making the inquiry."       
    "Where does the information go?"
    "I'm sorry, sir. I just don't know."
    "Oh, come on." He smiled. He tried charm, but she really had no idea who was on the other end of that routing.
    "The computer does it all," she said. "All I ever get is an acknowledgment of the message."
    "Look, would you demonstrate for me? But let's use another name." He gave her Harold Fletcher's data and she punched through:
     
    9805CGN-166
    FLETCHER, HB. 2193209 USNR
    HAMMOND, N. 573-58-6641 USN NIS
     
    He waited patiently with her until a few moments later the screen jxinted out:
     
    9805CGN  
    STANDBY
     
    "Looks like we touched a nerve," he said.
    Ensign Cokeland was perplexed. "Usually it comes back with just that number and the word 'received,' then signs off. I think there's going to be someone up here in a minute."
    She sat back and stared at her machine, two fingers pursing her lips.
    "Look," said Hammond, "I'm going over there to talk to someone else. Let me get a look at whoever's coming in before you point the finger. Okay?"
    She looked at him as if he were about to leave her to the wolves. Bravely, she nodded. Hammond strode over to another computer and struck up a conversation with another operator. Two minutes later, the doors opened and a female lieutenant came in and went straight to Ensign Cokeland.
    Hammond watched the supervisor give the ensign the business. Cokeland put up a front of ignorance until she saw Hammond coming over.
    He looked at the lieutenant's nameplate and smiled pleasantly. "Lieutenant Frankel, my name is Hammond. I'm from NIS, doing a little research, and I think you can help."
    Lieutenant Frankel eyed him suspiciously. "In what way?"
    "Well, it appears my request set off a little burglar alarm. Would you care to fill me in?"
    She hesitated, then spoke defiantly. "There must have been something irregular..."
    "Irregular to whom?"
    "The people receiving your request called for a spot check."
    "Who called?"
    "The computer."
    Hammond blinked. "No telephone?"
    "The computer," she repeated, enunciating firmly. "They wish to remain anonymous."
    "Then who do you report back to?"
    "The computer."
    Hammond almost laughed out loud. "Let me get this straight," he said. "Details of my inquiry go through your computer to notify someone unknown to you. And if the party doesn't like what he gets, he buzzes you and asks for a check. And you go through a whole