Binary

Graves stared at the categories with some distaste. It was disturbing that the government should have so much information on a private individual - particularly one who had committed no criminal act at any time.

Then on an impulse he pushed the `Wipe' button and the screen went blank. He typed in `Graves, John Norman', followed by his own call-up number. He sat back and watched the numbers print out on the screen:

He hesitated, then punched `Auth: VQ'

After another hesitation, he punched `Phelps, Richard D'.

RECORD CALL-UP NAME AS PHELPS, RICHARD D. FILE CONTENTS CANNOT BE DISPLAYED ON THIS CONSOLE TO THE ABOVENAMED PERSON. CALL-UP PERSON IS ADVISED TO ACQUIRE NTK AUTHORIZATION FROM DEPARTMENT HEAD.

Graves smiled. So even Phelps couldn't call up Graves' file without a special need-to-know authorization. Who could call it up? Feeling whimsical, he typed out `This is the President of the United States.'

The screen glowed:

Graves sighed. Computers just didn't show any respect. He pressed the `Wipe' button and returned to the question of Wright.

He didn't really know what he was looking for. Graves had supplied most of the computerized file contents himself. But perhaps someone else had added to it. He pushed the 008 sequence calling up miscellaneous information. That category had been empty two weeks ago. Now it contained an academic history of Wright's work in mathematics, prepared by `S. Vessen, State/Anal/412'. Whoever that was. He had a moment of pleasure at the thought that State's analysis people were abbreviated `anal'. It was fitting.

He turned to the information itself:

Graves stared at the screen. The notion of twocomponent interactions fascinated him. It seemed to have all sorts of co

Graves frowned, staring at the last word. Then he pressed the `Wipe' button a final time and hurried to catch his plane.

The aircraft banked steeply over the oil fields of Long Beach and headed south towards San Diego. Graves stared out the window, thinking of Wright's file. Then he thought about his own. He wondered what it looked like, the information displayed on the unblinking cathode-ray screen in sharp white easy-to-read block letters. He wondered how accurate it was, how fair, how honest, how kind.

Graves was thirty-six years old. He had worked for the government fifteen years - nearly half his life. That fact implied a dedication which had never been there; from the start his career in government had been a kind of accident.