The Secretary of the Quasiverse Settlement Administration sat in his New York office, trying to project measured confidence. The surroundings radiated calm assurance: rich walnut wood-grained walls; a large, though not ostentatious, desk with inset monitor; a dignified pen set with totally unnecessary blotter. There was a picture of himself, all chummy with the president, hanging strategically on the wall behind him. People seeing this image were supposed to be reassured, and maybe a little intimidated. The Secretary was obviously an influential and important man.
The person at the other end of the line in Los Angeles, though, was not assuaged by these trappings. Daniel Rosenthal, an influential and important man himself, was pacing the room in a combination of fury and panic. The Secreta
