Klythe was pumping the major's hand. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, Major. Just one of those things that has to be cleared up to keep things moving."
"Perfectly all right. I was a little bit early, and Mr. Crayley was good enough to show me around."
Crayley rubbed his mustache and waited for the greetings to get themselves over with. The major was trying to act nonchalant, but it was easy to see that he was somewhat in awe of Klythe. Klythe had taken the Big Gamble and won, and not very many people had done that. In the first place, the government only picked a few of the very best men to go through Rejuvenation. Men who were necessary, brilliant, useful. Men like Berin Klythe, who was important and a genius.
That was a point that Crayley admitted. Klythe was a genius. And, very likely, a more capable one than Crayley. But Crayley, too, was a genius in his own way, and he didn't feel that mere brilliancy should allow Klythe to block his path.
Three years ago, Berin Klythe had been a graying, stocky, aging man of sixty. Now he was lithe, dark of hair, clear of eye, and full of the energy of a twenty-five year old body.
He'd be good for another century. And Lewis Crayley wouldn't.
"Sit down, Major," Berin was saying. "Commander Edder told me you'd be around, but he only hinted at the trouble."
"Is this room sealed, Mr. Klythe?" the major asked calmly.
Klythe reached across his desk and touched a panel. "It is now."