Blade mentally crossed his fingers. He was comfortable with machinery, but more so with pre-electronic-era equipment than with Leighton's pet computers and similar modern marvels. He knew just enough about them to know how many things could go wrong even under the most favorable conditions.

That thought led Blade on to a specific suggestion. «Do we really need to have all the workshops down here in the Complex? They take up space, and we don't exactly have that to burn.»

«Nor hardware either,» said Leighton with a wry grin.

«Very true. Some of them are a fire and smoke hazard, or could send an electrical surge onto the main circuits and damage the laboratories. Also, having the workshops down here means higher security ratings for all the people who work in them, more paperwork, and more expense.»

Leighton cocked his head on one side and pulled at the tuft of white hair protruding from behind his left ear. «You do have a point, Richard. Possibly a very good one. It would mean more traveling for me, of course-«

«I hadn't thought of that. I'm sorry.»

«Don't be.» Leighton interlaced his fingers and cracked all his knuckles with a sound like a string of firecrackers. «The day I get too old to travel from here to-oh, some suburb-and back twice a week, I'll be too old for the rest of the job as well. No, what concerns me more is security for an outside laboratory. Here everything is behind those damned Special Branch men on the surface and underneath two hundred feet of earth and rock.»

«That's true, sir. But-and correct me if I'm wrong-how much could anyone tell about the Project from simply looking at the components? I couldn't tell if they belong to a stereo set, a tank's range-finder, or a missile guidance system.