“Sure, Willie,” said Mundin. “Look, what’s all this?”
Willie smiled regretfully. “Of course,” he explained, “he wasn’t my real Great-Great-Granddaddy; Granpap just kind of took that name when he bought into the firm. It’s just a way of——”
Mundin said urgently, “Willie, please. Remember how it was in law school?”
Willie seemed about to cry. “Gee, Charles! What can I say?”
“You can tell me what this is all about!”
Willie looked at Mundin. Then he looked all around him, at Norma, at the fittings of the car. Then he looked at Mundin again. The implication was unmistakable.
“At least tell me what your connection is,” Mundin begged.
“Gee, Charles!” But the answer to that one, at least, was plain, written in those soft eow’s eyes, spelled out in that trembling lip. Willie was what God had made him to be: an errand boy, and doubtless knew little more than Mundin about what, why, or wherefore. Mundin gave up and let Willie read his magazine, while he stared morosely at the crumbled city they were driving through.
The building smelled old. Mundin and Norma and Willie stepped into a creaking elevator and slowly went up fifty floors. A long walk, and then another elevator, even smaller, even creakier.
Then a small room with a hard bench. Willie left them there; all he said was “See you.”
Then—waiting. An hour, then several hours. They didnt talk.
Mundin thought he was going to flip.
Then he thought that that was what Green, Charlesworth wanted him to think, and got a grip on himself.
And by and by a small, quiet man came and led them into another room.
There was no place to sit, and no place for Mundin to hang his coat. Mundin draped his coat over his arm, and stood, staring back Into the unblinking eyes of the man seated at the desk. He was an imposing figure of a man, lean-featured, dark-haired, temples shot with silver. He leaned forward, comfortably appraising; his chin was in one cupped hand, the fingers covering his lips. His eyes followed Mundin, and his chest rhythmically rose and fell; otherwise he Was stock-still.
Mundin cleared his throat. “Mr.—ah—Green?” he inquired.
The man said emotionlessly, “We despise you, Mr. Mundin. We are going to destroy you.”
Mundin cried, “Why?”
“You are Rocking the Boat, Mundin,” the man said through his fingers, the piercing eyes locked with Mundin’s own.
Mundin cleared his throat “Look, Mr. Green—you are Mr. Green?”
“You are Our Enemy, Mundin.”
“Now, wait a minute!” Mundin took a deep breath. Please, he silently begged his adrenal gland. Gently! he ordered the pounding sensation hi his skull. He, said temperately, “I’m sure we can get together, Mr.—sir. After all, we’re not greedy.”
The figure said steadily, “Men Like You would Ruin the World if we let them. We wonV
Mundin swept his eyes hopelessly around the room. This man was obviously mad; someone else, anyone else—— But there was no one. Barring the desk and the man, there was nothing in the room but a pair of milky, glassy cabinets and Mundin and the girl. He said, “Look, did you call me down here just to insult me?”
“You put your Fingers hi the Buzz-Saw, Mundin. They will be Lopped Off.”
“Insane,” Norma murmured faintly.
“Dammittohell!” Mundin yelled. He hurled his coat violently to the floor, but it did nothing to calm him. “If you’re crazy say so and let me get out of here! I never came across such blithering idiocy in my Me!”
He stopped in the middle of a beginning tirade; stopped short.
The man wasn’t looking at him any more. The same unblinking and unwavering gaze that had been on Mundin was now piercingly directed at the coat on the floor. To the coat the motionless man said, “We brought you here, Mundin, to See Infamy with Our Own Eyes. Now we have seen it and we will Blot It Out.” And then, startlingly, shrilly, “Hee!”
Mundin swallowed and stepped gingerly forward. Three paces and he was at the desk, leaning over, looking at what should be the neatly tailored trousers of the man’s modest suit.
The personnel of Green, Charlesworth were not wearing trousers this year. The personnel of Green, Charlesworth were wearing bronze pedestals with thick black cables snaking out of them, and brass nameplates that read: