“It doesn’t matter.”

“In that case, John, I won’t answer you at all. I’ll answer our president, however. His name, at least, I know. Mr. President, I still don’t know enough to say whether I can do what you wish. You’ve told me nothing about this man Reis’s crimes other than espionage and blackmail, for example, although other crimes have been hinted at, at least twice. As it happens, I know something of those already, assuming alchemy to be criminal. I feel sure you know much more. Empty the bag for me, and we can talk rationally. Otherwise, I’ll go.”

“I have a file,” John said. “It’s long and detailed, and we didn’t have time to get into all that. Agree, and I’ll give it to you.”

Gideon did not look at him. “As you have outlined my little assignment thus far, it’s senseless. You know that—you’re far too shrewd not to. Pick up Reis. Take him to a safe house. You wouldn’t have to employ torture. There are drugs. There is even hypnosis, with which a skillful operator can do much more than the public has been led to believe.”

No one spoke.

“You have no comment?” Gideon rose. “Very well. I’ll try with the trifling information you’ve given me. For my service, I want that professorship and fifty million dollars. I want both in advance.”

The president snorted.

“A billion is nothing to you, but a billion is one thousand millions. I’m asking one-twentieth of a billion, and you’ll have three-quarters of it back within a year through taxation.”

“When the job’s done, Dr. Chase. Not before.”

“You don’t trust me. Why in the world should I trust you? I can’t and I don’t.” Gideon turned and went out.

The question, or so he thought as he was escorted out of the White House, was whether he would be followed.

No, there were two questions. The first was whether he would be followed. The second was whether he was being followed already. Since he knew the answer to neither, he would have to act as though the answers were yes, and yes.