Earth Has Been Found Read Online Free Page A

genially, saying nothing.
    Once clear of the building, his manner changed abruptly. “Okay, Frank. Talk.”
    His strange conduct shook Arcasso, but not enough to stop him from taking a chance. Even to mention AI Committee affairs broke the rules in a big way. Grauber might be cleared for that grade of intelligence, or he might not; but it was not Arcasso’s business to tell him. Yet Grauber’s behavior indicated he knew something. Arcasso went beyond his original intentions, telling Grauber all. Grauber took it in silence.
    “So why no F-4 file?”
    Grauber’s answer stopped him dead.
    “What F-4 file?”
    Arcasso froze, then grabbed Grauber’s arm, their feet grating on the frosty tarmac. He stared open mouthed, his breath white vapor under the cold potassium lighting, while Grauber, unmoved, fiddled with a bunch of keys.
    Grauber spoke softly, face turned downward. “No questions, and don’t talk to anyone . I’ll tell you this much: The real foul-up was in releasing that Soviet item to your committee. You — personally — will hear more. This is not just a Defense Department matter. Not any longer.”
     

 
    V.
     
    Next morning, Arcasso’s section found him unusually difficult to deal with, and they did their best to stay out of his way.
    He tried to concentrate, but his mind soon wandered; he signed letters and initialed files without the slightest idea of their content.
    Grauber had said it was no longer a Defense Department matter; he saw that, but where did it all end up — the State Department? — the President? If the Russian report was correct, the problem touched all humanity.
    Grauber rang. Arcasso was expected at the State Department in thirty minutes, Room 439. That was all.
    Arcasso’s puzzlement increased when he reached Room 439. The tablet on the door read Interdepartmental Liaison Section. That he had never heard of the outfit came as no surprise; he’d been around long enough to recognize an intentionally vague title when he saw one.
    Room 439 contained a frosty female, her desk, and four chairs for visitors, arranged along one wall under her cold eye. In spite of his preoccupation, Frank was struck by the bareness of the room. On the desk was a typewriter, a phone, a notebook, and a small cactus which resembled a sea urchin, including spines.
    “Oh, Colonel. Please sit down.” The secretary abruptly returned to the typewriter.
    Arcasso dug out a cigar. The secretary said nothing, just looked. He compromised, chewing on it, unlit.
    Suddenly she said, “You can go in now, Colonel,” her nod indicating an inner door. He wondered vaguely how the trick was done; maybe there was a cue light hidden in the cactus.
    The inner room confirmed his suspicions. He’d seen it before. Nylon net curtains did nothing to conceal the fine wire mesh over the window. One wall was curtained from floor to ceiling, and six gray filing cabinets of the latest pattern took up another wall. On four of them, red lights glowed, indication that they were unlocked.
    The greeting was warmer than the decor: A tall man in his mid-thirties got up from his desk. “Glad you could make it on such short notice, Colonel.” The Ivy League voice matched his suit. He waved Arcasso to an armchair, pushing a cigarette box and ashtray in his direction.
    Sitting down, Arcasso noticed something else: His host had no telephone — a sure sign of a high security area. There could be one in a drawer, but Frank doubted it. A tape recorder, yes, very likely, but no phone. He lit a cigar and waited.
    His host smiled unconvincingly. “Call me Smith,” he said. “This desk is manned ‘round the clock; the name goes with the job. First, read this.”
    “This” was a letter assigning Frank to “additional duties with the State Department” and signed by his commanding general. Smith smiled encouragingly. “It regularizes your position.” Arcasso was thinking more about the “additional duties,” and Smith knew it. “A major