Beep. JOSEF PABER lowered his newspaper slightly. Finding the girlon the park bench looking his wayhe smiled the agonizinglyembarrassed smile of the thoroughly married nobody caughtbird-watching and ducked back into the paper again. He was reasonably certain that he looked the part of amiddle-aged steadily employed harmlesscitizen enjoying aSunday break in the bookkeeping and family routines. Hewas also quitecertain despite his official instructions thatit wouldnt make the slightest bit ofdifference if he didnt. These boy-meets-girl assignments always came off. Jo hadnever tackled a single one that hadrequired him. As a matter of fact the newspaper which he was supposedto be using only as a blindinterested him a good deal morethan his job did. He had only barely begun to suspect theobvious ten years ago when the Service had snapped himup now after a decade as an agent hewas still fascinatedto see how smoothly the really important situations came off. The dangerous situationsnot boy-meets-girl. This affair of the Black Horse Nebula for instance. Somedays ago the papers and thecommentators had begun tomention reports of disturbances in that area and Jospracticed eyehad picked up the mention. Something bigwas cooking. Today it had boiled overthe Black Horse Nebula hadsuddenly spewed ships by the hundreds amassed armadathat must have taken more than a century of effort on thepart of a whole starcluster a production drive conductedin the strictest and most fanatical kind of secrecy. . . . And of course the Service had been on the spot in plentyof time. With three times as manyships disposed withmathematical precision so as to enfilade the entire armadathe moment itbroke from the nebula. The battle had beena massacre the attack smashed before the averagecitizencould even begin to figure out what it had been aimed atand good had triumphed over evilonce more. Of course. Furtive scuffings on the gravel drew his attention briefly. He