“There’s nothing unusual in the way of transmitters in Stevens’s offices here,” the operative said without preamble.
“And there isn’t any local Interstellar Information staff, except for one stenographer, and she’s as dumb as they come.
About all we could get from her is that Stevens is ‘such a sweet old man.’ No possibility that she’s faking it; she’s genuinely stupid, the kind that thinks Betelgeuse is something Indians use to darken their skins. We looked for some sort of list or code table that would give us a line on Stevens’s field staff, but that was another dead end. Now we’re maintaining a twenty-four-hour Dinwiddie watch on the place from a joint across the street. Orders?”
Weinbaum dictated to the blank stretch of tape which followed: “Margaret, next time you send any Dirac tapes in here, cut that damnable beep off them first. Tell the boys in Rico City that Stevens has been released, and that I’m proceeding for an Order In Security to tap his ultraphone and his local linesthis is one case where I’m sure we can persuade the court that tapping’s necessary. Alsoand be damned sure you code thistoll them to proceed with the tap immediately and to maintain it regardless of whether or not the court O.K.s it. I’ll thumbprint a Full Responsibility Confession for them. We can’t afford to play pat-a-cake with Stevensthe potential is just too damned big.
And oh, yes, Margaret, send the message by carrier, and send out general orders to everybody concerned not to use the Dirac again except when distance and time rule every other medium out. Stevens has already admitted that he can receive Dirac ‘casts.”