Nothing added up and it seemed he had been shuffling the crazy pieces for a week when they came to take him back to Chisholm's office. The clock, though, told him only eight hours had passed.
Another man was in Chisholm's office now and he recognized him as soon as he came in—Shelby Johnson, President of North America. The newcomer nodded grimly as they were introduced to each other.
"President Johnson is here incognito, came by a private entrance," Chisholm explained. "You're not to mention this anywhere."
"A real mess!" Johnson exclaimed. "But at least there was someone decent enough to give us forewarning. This stuff's supposed to be so effective, no hangover, no known damage to the system—why didn't you go along with Hartley's reasoning?"
"There has to be some bad long-range effect, nothing comes that cheap."
"I only hope you're right." Johnson's grey eyes seemed to be focussed far off. "Otherwise the social damage will be terrible."
"Everything you told me has been confirmed," said Chisholm. "Scouts had no trouble finding a batch and the tests confirm that it's seemingly harmless, breaks down completely."
"Then why don't you arrest Hartley?"
"That would just spread knowledge of this even faster. He's probably seen to it that will happen and can hold it over our heads."
"Counter the thing with a propaganda offensive, highlighting the evils."