Page 2 of Chain of Command

buried his head in his hands again.

  "Technically," he said, speaking through his fingers, "it's a securityproblem."

  With an air of relief, he picked up the phone and called the SecurityOfficer. There was a bit of spirited conversation and then he hung up.

  "He'll be right down," the Administrative Officer told George.

  Shortly thereafter, the door violently swung open, and a tall man withpiercing eyes entered. "Hello Bill," he said quickly. "How are youfeeling?"

  "Hello, Mike," the Administrative Officer replied. "I feel like hell.This is George. I just called you about him."

  "Hello!" George shouted.

  "Hello!" the Security Officer shouted back. "I couldn't find anyrecord of you in the files. Have you been cleared?" he added with anote of urgency in his voice. "Fingerprints, A.E.C., C.C.C., C.A.I.,F.B.I.?"

  "No!" George shouted back. "My wife wants the trap by our front doorremoved. She thinks it's dangerous for the children."

  "Has _she_ been cleared?" the Security Office countered in a loudvoice.

  "Why is everybody shouting?" the Administrative Officer askedpeevishly. "I've got a headache."

  "No," George answered.

  * * * * *

  The Security Officer's mouth tightened into a thin, grim line. "Amajor lapse of security," he snapped. "I'll check into this verythoroughly."

  "Will you remove the trap?" George asked.

  "I can't, until you're cleared," the Security Officer said, shakinghis head. "I certainly won't authorize any action that could be laterconstrued as aiding the entrance of spies or subversives into theplant."

  "How old are you?" the Administrative Officer asked George.

  "Fifty-six days," George replied without hesitation.

  "Under twelve years," the Administrative Officer pointed out to theSecurity Officer. "No clearance required."

  "I don't know," the Security Officer said, shaking his head. "There'sno precedent for a case like this. I'll be damned if I'll stick myneck out and have that trap removed. I know, I'll send a request foran advisory opinion." He turned and walked toward the door.

  "What should I tell my wife?" George called after him.

  "Tell her that I'm asking the A.E.C. for an opinion, with carboncopies to the Defense Dept. and the F.B.I."

  "Don't forget Immigration & Naturalization," the AdministrativeOfficer said. "There might be a question of citizenship."

  "The hell there is," George said. "_Lex locis_--I was born here."

  "Well," the Security Officer said as he walked out, "one can't be toocareful."

  So, George went and told his wife and, the next morning, he was on thetrain for Washington. Being telepathic, as all this generation of micewere, he already had contacted some mice who had an 'in' in thegovernment buildings.

  All the way down on the train, he worried about chasing all thosecarbons in the bureaucratic maze of Washington, but he needn't have.

  As soon as the Security Officer's report was received, the A.E.C. senta battery of psychiatrists to the plant. After the psychiatristsreported, they, in turn, were sent to another battery ofpsychiatrists. After that, the A.E.C. called a top-level conference ofthe Defense Dept., F.B.I. (Dept. Just.), Fish & Wildlife (Dept. Int.),Public Health (Dept. Welf.), Immigration & Naturalization and AlaskanAffairs. The latter turned out to be a mistake.

  * * * * *

  This had taken two weeks, and George had lingered in the walls,impatiently waiting for his chance to testify. Of course, he was intelepathic communication with Clara. He knew that his family were allwell, that Clara had made friends with the janitor, also that the trapwas still there.

  The janitor no longer put cheese in it, and he didn't set the springany more, but he still followed his orders and so, every morning,moved it back by the door of the little mousehouse.

  A fat Washington mouse guided George to the mousehole in theconference room. George looked inside and sniffed the smoky airdistastefully.

  There were seven men seated at a long table, with a glass of water infront of each. This was a liquid that even George knew was hardlydesigned to lubricate the way to a quick agreement.

  "_Bomb_ them, I say," the General cried, smashing his fist down on thetable. "Hit them hard with atomic weapons. Hit them _now_, before_they_ have a chance to strike first."

  "But that's one of our best plants," a civilian from the A.E.C.protested. "We don't want to blow it up, not for a few paltry mice."

  "Couldn't we send them to Alaska?" the man from Alaskan Affairs askedtimidly, wondering what he was doing there.

  "How about traps?" the man from Fish and Wildlife said. "We have somehoneys."

  "But _that's just it_!" George said in a loud voice, and they allturned to look at him. "My wife would like that trap by our front doorremoved. She's afraid that it might hurt the children."

  "_Who_ are _you_?" the man from Immigration & Naturalization demandedsharply.

  "I'm George," George said. "It's my house that has the trap in frontof it."

  "What are you doing _here_?" the man from the F.B.I. demanded. "Spyingon a closed meeting!"

  "I'm _not_ spying!" George exclaimed. "I just came to ask you toplease remove the trap."

  * * * * *

  The man from the F.B.I. looked at him with something close to pity."It's not that simple any more," he said. "Don't you realize what athreat you comprise?"

  "No," George said, scampering up the leg of the table and walking toits center. "We're not a threat to anybody. We're just mice. It's notour nature to be a threat to anybody."

  Then, as he looked around the table at the seven huge faces thatsurrounded him, he immediately saw that they were all scared half todeath because he was a mouse, and he had a sudden premonition that hewould not come out of the meeting alive. So he opened his mind to lethis family and all the other telepathic mice hear everything that washappening.

  "Don't tell me you don't fully realize," the Fish and Wildlife mandemanded sarcastically, trying to hide his terror beneath a blusteringtone, "that from one mouse, your great-great-grandfather Michael,there must be now at least twelve billion descendants--or six timesthe human population of Earth!"

  "No, I didn't know," George said, interested despite himself.

  "Don't tell me it never occurred to you," the man from the F.B.I.said, shaking a finger at him, while George could see that he kept theother hand on the revolver in his pocket, "that you mice have accessto and could destroy every secret file we have!"

  "No, it didn't," George said, shrinking from that huge, shakingfinger. "We mice would never destroy anything uselessly."

  "Or that you could cut the wires on any plane, tank, vehicle, train orship, rendering it completely inoperable!" the General broke in,slamming a meaty palm down on the table so hard that George was thrownover on his back.

  "Of course it never occurred to me!" George said, climbing rockilyback on his feet. "We mice wouldn't think of such a thing. Don't beafraid," he pleaded, but it was no use. He could feel the panic intheir breasts.

  "Didn't you ever consider that you could cut every cable, telephoneline, power line, and telegraph line from the States to Alaska?" theman from Alaskan Affairs said, just for the sake of saying something.Then, to show his bravery and defiance, he took his glass of water andemptied it on George. It was ice water, and poor George, dripping wet,began to tremble uncontrollably.

  "I suppose you never considered that you could sabotage and blow upevery atomic plant we have," the man from the A.E.C. said, beforeGeorge even had a chance to answer Alaskan Affairs. And, workinghimself into a rage to overcome his fear, he emptied _his_ glass ofice water on the trembling mouse.

  * * * * *

  George began to weep. "It _never_ occurred to me," he sobbed. "We micearen't like that."

  "Nonsense!" the General said. "It's the unchanging law of nature. Wemust kill you or you will kill
us. And we'll start by killing you!"The General roared louder than all the rest because he was the mostfrightened.

  His hand, huge and terrible, swept swiftly down on poor, wet, weepingGeorge. But the General really didn't know mouse tactics very well,because George was down the leg of the table and halfway to themousehole before the huge hand struck the table