"But true nonetheless. Walker, you look like you could use a drink."
"By all means." He stared emptily into the air, thinking about the good old days.
"Walker, a toast," said Millet, holding a tall glass out to him. "To scientific freedom."
Walker blinked. "By all means," he repeated hoarsely, and there was a blurriness to his vision. "To scientific freedom."
They drank, and Walker said: "I feel a bit freer to say what I have come for."
"Shoot," nodded Millet, sipping his drink.
"For security reasons, I'll talk in generalities. But the basic fact is, United Terra is faced with a serious situation. It is most desirable that the research you were conducting when you left us, be continued."
"There are a lot of other capable physicists, both eager to be a part of such activity and blessed with security clearances."
"You know very well, Millet, that this was an unique, almost independent line of development that comes to a stop in your brain. Besides," and suddenly he felt silly, "the lines of communication for research which might enable us to pick up where you left off, in time—too much time—are somewhat entangled in security." He glared. "Don't laugh, Millet; it's a fact of life which must be faced."
Millet finished his drink and set the glass on an end table. "What you're doing is asking me to come back if you can arrange it."