"Well?" Mitchison jammed his cigar into one corner of his mouth. "What did the padrè have to say?"
"Precisely what we all expected."
"Nix?"
"Double-double nix with molasses and cherries on top," Harker said. "His unofficial feeling is that the Church will ixnay this thing the second it's announced."
"Umm. Take some heavy thinking to cancel that out. How about the politicos?"
The car pulled into the Beller Labs' private road. Harker said, "I'm going to Albany later in the week to see Governor Winstead. After him I'll go after Senator Thurman. Depending on what they say—"
"The hell with that," Mitchison growled. "When do you figure we can release this thing to the public?"
Harker turned round in his seat. In a level voice he said, "When you're planning to touch off a fusion bomb, you look around first and make sure you won't get scragged yourself. Same here. This project's been kept under wraps for eight years, and I'm damned if I'll release anything now until I see exactly where we all stand."
"And you'll pussyfoot around for months?"
"What do you care?" Harker demanded. "Are you getting paid by the week or by the amount of publicity you send out?"