"Excellent. I'll prepare Marian and Laura—they think you're a real M-12."
"Will it be a shock?"
"Somewhat. They aren't too certain of the M-12 business; though they do not know the blunt truth, they are aware that few men classified under the M-12 are ever heard of again. That's because they're close to the Service. M-12 is a brilliant method of permitting a man to drop from sight, since it was designed to permit a man to leave his friends gently—the so-called contacts are made by telegram and personal messenger to remove certain portions of the man's effects and to pay his rent and so on. Eventually all of his stuff is gone, his friends wonder where he is and eventually forget him.
"But your return will put faith in M-12 again. They'll both be glad to see you."
"You must do me a favor," asked Guy earnestly. "Please explain to Laura about my leaving without saying good-bye."
"I'll do that. M-12 is the roughest on the ones who are close without being blood-relations. We'll smooth it over. Now take it easy. Hello, Kane," he said looking over Guy's head. "Are you sorry we deprived you of a story?"
"Some day this young man will make me a better one," laughed Kane. "Drop up to the office tomorrow if you can. I'll buy lunch—you deserve some special treatment to pay for your year of—experimenting. He'll be safe," said Kane to Greggor.
"I know it," said the Space Marshal. "You wouldn't be permitted the inside the Council unless you were proven, you know."
"I'll do more," said Kane. "I'll have one of my boys run over the forged log for you. He can make it sound a bit more authentic. I've always thought that your logs and diaries were a little stiffish. A bit of yearning and youthful hope would lend that log a world of reality, it having been written by a lonely young scientist."
"That's a deal. Well, take it easy. And we'll see you later."