Vickers wrinkled his forehead. There was an air of hopeful friendliness tinctured with awe in their attitude that puzzled him. He didn't say anything.
Fralick looked vaguely embarrassed. "I—we've another favor to ask you, Vickers. We want you to come in with us."
"What?" said Vickers in a stunned voice.
"We want you in International Spy Ring, Inc. Need you. We—well, we wouldn't expect you to accept a minor position of course. Not a man of your calibre. If you'll join us, Vickers, you can take charge of the field work. None of us is so well fitted for active duty as you with your enviable vision, your resourcefulness."
Vickers didn't know what to say. That anybody envied him, wanted him around, considered him an asset, knocked a hole in his armor. He had no defenses against friendliness.
"But you," he said; "Doctor Fralick, you're head of the U.S. Bureau of Research—"
"I'm also the head of International Spy Ring, Inc."
At Vickers' expression, Fralick allowed a smile to flit across his visage.
"Don't judge us too harshly. Science is international, not the property of one individual or one nation, even. It must belong to everybody.
"We don't want power. We're after peace and tolerance and the dissemination of knowledge. We're united, Vickers. The scientists, the technicians, the engineers of the seven great nations. Not all of us, but enough of us."