The Untouchable

This story was published in Analog , December 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
HE man finally entered the office of General George Garvers . As the door closed behind him, he saw the general, who sprang from his chair to greet him.
“Max! You finally came.”
“Got here as soon as I could. I wager half my time was taken up by the security check points. You are certainly isolated in here.”
“All of that,” agreed the general. “Have a seat, won’t you?” he asked, indicating a chair.
His friend sank into it gratefully. “Now, what’s this vital problem you called me about? You weren’t too specific.”
“No,” said Garvers, “I wasn’t. This is a security matter, after a fashion. It’s vitally important that we get technical help on this thing, and since you and I are friends, I was asked to call you in.”
“Well?”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to make a story of it.”
“Quite all right by me, but don’t mind if I interject a question now and then. Mind if I smoke?”
“Go right ahead,” said Garvers, fumbling out a lighter. “Just don’t spill ashes on the rug.
“This all began on the Third of May. I was working here on some top-security stuff. I had suddenly got the feeling of being watched. I know it seems silly, what with all the check points that a potential spy would have to go through to get here, but that’s just how I felt.