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said, not quite keeping up.
    “The same. When it comes to efficiency, he has no peer.”
    She had been married to him for several years in the Navy. “You ought to know,” I murmured. But, of course, it was true; Gerald Phist had been held back in the Navy because he was a whistle-blower, until he joined my unit. He had done marvels for our procurement. Certainly I wanted him on my team now—and if Spirit asked him, he would serve. He was now in his mid-sixties, but I knew his mind remained sharp. “What position?”
    “Well, I would have thought defense, because that's his area of expertise, but he has already taken care of that.”
    I knew what she meant. After Spirit and I had left the Navy our unit had continued, and its personnel had extended their influence, thanks to Admiral Mondy's—the male, Emerald's husband—sinister expertise. Emerald's own position had been proof of that; my recent promotion of her had only completed a twenty-year process. My people had in their quiet way assumed the reins and reorganized the Navy, making it a far more effective fighting force than it had been. Gone were the days of paying hundreds of dollars for nickel and dime parts and of spending billions for exotic equipment that didn't work. The Navy had become the canniest of buyers. President Tocsin would have squelched that but had realized that it was better simply to take credit for the improved efficiency, and since my people did not seek credit, that had worked out well enough. But when it had come to the crunch, the Navy had supported me, not Tocsin. That had been the payoff.
    Spirit was right. The Navy no longer needed Admiral Phist. We needed him—to do the same job in the civilian sector. “But if not defense, then what?”
    “The Navy learned to deal effectively with the industrial part of the military-industrial complex,” she said.
    “Thanks to Gerald. But the political power of industry has only been blunted, not broken. Waste and fraud are rampant, and both the government and the consumers suffer. We need to bring down the prices of food and goods for the average citizen, bringing inflation to a complete halt. He's the one to do that.”
    “He surely is,” I agreed. It was evident that Spirit had done more thinking on these matters than I had.
    “And we'll need someone for interplanetary relations—”
    “Sir,” Shelia said from across the room.
    I got up and went to her.
    “The opposition members are walking out of Congress,” she explained.
    “Walking out?” I repeated blankly.
    “To prevent a quorum,” Spirit said, rejoining me. “So that no official business can be done. It's an old ploy.”
    “Maybe I can appoint replacements,” I said.
    “Easier said than done,” Spirit said darkly. “Those Congressmen are supposedly the representatives of their various districts. Your appointees would represent you, not their districts. That wouldn't go over well.”
    I nodded somberly, seeing her point. “And we're having enough trouble figuring out who to appoint to the major offices; filling congressional seats would be impossibly cumbersome.”
    “Agreed,” she said. “As I see it, we have two convenient routes.”
    “Sir,” Shelia said again.
    I sighed. “Another problem? I haven't grasped the last one yet!”
    “Not exactly. A delivery from Ganymede is here. They need your clearance.”
    “A delivery from Ganymede?” I repeated blankly.
    “A baby,” she said succinctly.
    A baby! Abruptly I remembered. I had made a deal with a woman from Ganymede I called Dorian Gray: to return her baby to her, in exchange for her help. Her help had enabled me to survive my situation, but she had died. I had nevertheless contacted the premier of Ganymede, who had agreed to locate the baby. Now, two or three months later, he had evidently done so.
    “Perhaps I should contact a nursery—” Shelia murmured.
    “No,” I said. “This is my responsibility. Bring it in.”
    She spoke into her mike, giving