"You were assigned to straighten out that man, Sornal, weren't you?"
"Yes. I was, and I did." Stan found he had enough freedom to move his head. "He was just suffering from—"
Mauson coughed dryly. "I have a report on that, too. You fed him some tea, talked for a while, then left him."
Again, he tapped at his notes.
"Then you came here and demanded the man's Personnel file. You read that and went directly to the Federation Building. Now, I'm not a completely stupid man. Don't try to make me believe you just wanted some exotic food."
He poked a switch.
"Wizow, will you step in here, please?"
"Yes, Mauson?" The blocky production chief loomed through a door.
He glanced at Stan.
"Oh. You got him in here, then?"