"I know." She raised her faded gray eyes. "That was a funny thing you said to him just now over the intercom. You said to him it was getting late. But it isn't late. It's only eleven o'clock in the morning."
David stared. "Do you mean to say you were listening to our conversation? Why did you do that?"
She fidgeted and turned away from him. "Oh, I just happened to be at Comdesk and I guess the circuit wasn't closed. Does it matter? But it seemed a funny thing for you to say."
"People in Office Category are not supposed to understand Research," he said severely. "If they were capable of Research, Leader Marley's planners would have placed them there. As for its being late, it is, as far as White Martian Fever is concerned. Which is the subject of my paper. Prepare to take dictation."
Shrugging her shoulders, she poised her bony fingers over the keys of the little machine.
"Paper for delivery at the Summer Seminar," he began.
"But, Dr. Wong, that doesn't have to be ready for three months yet!"
"Miss Hachovnik! Please remember Leader Marley's Maxim: Individuals born into Office Category are the bone and muscle of the State; Nature has designed them to act, not to think."
"Yes, Dr. Wong. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, Leah. We're old friends, so I won't report you. All set?"