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.They went through the motions, hoped that they were closer to success on the treaty than they had been.And Marsh moved through their midst, sat in their sessions, regarded them in private with a bruised, disheveled look, without their moral support.because to ask reasons or offer comfort was to breach the silence which was their defensive wall.Why? Ayres had written once on a plastic 141Downbelow Stationtabletop by Marsh's arm.In the oil of his fingertip, something he trusted no lens could pick up.And when that had gained no reaction: What?Marsh had erased both, and written nothing, turned his face away, his lips trembling in imminent breakdown.Ayres had not repeated the question.Now at length he rose, walked to Marsh's door, slid it open without knocking.Marsh sat on his bed, fully clothed, arms locked across his ribs, staring at the wall, or beyond it.Ayres walked over to him, bent down by his ear."Concisely," he said in the faintest of whispers, not sure even that would fail to be heard, "what do you think is going on? Have they been questioning you? Answer me."A moment passed.Marsh shook his head slowly."Answer," Ayres said."I am singled out for delays," Marsh said, a whisper that stammered."My assignments are never in order.There's always some mixup.They keep me sitting and waiting for hours.That's all, sir.""I believe you," Ayres said.He was not sure he did, but he offered it all the same, and patted Marsh's shoulder.Marsh broke down and cried, tears pouring down a face which struggled to be composed.The supposed cameras.they were eternally conscious of the cameras they believed to be present.Ayres was shaken by this, the suspicion that they themselves were Marsh's tormentors, as much as Union.He left the room and walked back into the other.And swelling with anger he stopped amid the room, turned his face up to the complicated crystal light fixture which was his chiefest suspicion of monitoring."I protest," he said sharply, "this deliberate and unwarranted harassment."Then he turned and sat down, watched the vid again.His companions had reacted no more than to look up.The silence resumed.142Downbelow StationThere was no acknowledgment of the incident the next morning, in the arrival of the day's schedule, carried by a gun-wearing mannequin.Meeting 0800, it informed them.The day was starting early.There was no other information, not topic nor with whom nor where, not even mention for arrangements of lunch, which were usually included.Marsh came out of his room, shadow-eyed as if he had not slept."We don't have much time for breakfast," Ayres said; it was usually delivered to their quarters at 0730, and it was within a few minutes of that time.The light at the door flashed a second time.It opened from the outside, no breakfast, rather a trio of the mannequin-guards."Ayres," one said.Just that, without courtesies."Come."He bit back a reply.There was no arguing with them; he had told his people so.He looked at the others, went back and got his jacket, playing the same game, taking time and deliberately irritating those waiting on him.When he reckoned that he had delayed as long as made the point he came alone to the door and into the custody of the young guards.Marsh, he could not help thinking.What was their game with Marsh?They brought him down the corridor in the correct direction for the lift, through the lift-sequence and halls without marking or designation, into the conference rooms and offices, which relieved his immediate apprehensions.They entered a familiar room, and passed through into one of the three interview rooms they used.Military this time.The silver-haired man at the small circular table had metal enough studding the pocket-flap of his black uniform to have made up the ranks of the last several he had talked to combined.Insane pattern of insignia.No knowing what, precisely, the intricate emblems represented.amusing on one level, that Union had managed to evolve so complex a system of medals and insignia, as if all that metal were meant to impress.But it was authority, and power; and that was not amusing at all."Delegate Ayres." The gray-haired man.gray with rejuv, by the scarcely lined vigor of the face, a drug entirely common out here.available on 143Downbelow StationEarth only in inferior substitutes.rose and offered his hand.Ayres took it solemnly."Seb Azov," the man introduced himself."From the Directorate
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