“You have the base-line designation?” Vall demanded.

“Oh, yes.  That’s what I was telling you.  We worked that out from the designations you gave me.”  He recited it.  “All the designations you gave me are—­”

Vall wasn’t listening to him.  He frowned in puzzlement.

“That’s not a Fifth Level designation,” he said.  “That’s First Level!”

“That’s correct.  First Level Abzar Sector.”

“Now why in blazes didn’t anybody think of that before?” he marveled, and as he did, he knew the answer.  Nobody ever thought of the Abzar sector.

[Illustration:]

Twelve millennia ago, the world of the First Level had been exhausted; having used up the resources of their home planet, Mars, a hundred thousand years before, the descendants of the population that had migrated across space had repeated on the third planet the devastation of the fourth.  The ancestors of Verkan Vall’s people had discovered the principle of paratime transposition and had begun to exploit an infinity of worlds on other lines of probability.  The people of the First Level Dwarma Sector, reduced by sheer starvation to a tiny handful, had abandoned their cities and renounced their technologies and created for themselves a farm-and-village culture without progress or change or curiosity or struggle or ambition, and a way of life in which every day was like every other day that had been or that would come.

The Abzar people had done neither.  They had wasted their resources to the last, fighting bitterly over the ultimate crumbs, with fission bombs, and with muskets, and with swords, and with spears and clubs, and finally they had died out, leaving a planet of almost uniform desert dotted with vast empty cities which even twelve thousand years had hardly begun to obliterate.

So nobody on the Paratime Sector went to the Abzar Sector.  There was nothing there—­except a hiding-place.

“Well, message that to Subchief Ranthar Jard, Kholghoor Sector at Nharkan Equivalent, and to Subchief Vulthor, Esaron Sector, Novilan Equivalent,” Vall said.  “And be sure to mark what you send Vulthor, ‘Immediate attention Deputy Subchief Skordran.’”

That reminded him of something; as soon as he was through with Zulthran, he got out an order in the name of Tortha Karf authorizing Skordran Kirv’s promotion on a permanent basis and messaged it out.  Something was going to have to be done with Vulthor Tharn, too.  A promotion of course—­say Deputy Bureau Chief.  Hypno-Mech Tape Library at Dhergabar Home Time Line; there Vulthor’s passion for procedure and his caution would be assets instead of liabilities.  He called Vlasthor Arph, the Chief’s Deputy assigned to him as adjutant.

“I want more troops from ServSec and IndSec,” he said.  “Go over the TO’s and see what can be spared from where; don’t strip any time line, but get a force of the order of about three divisions.  And locate all the big antigrav-equipped ship transposition docks on Commercial and Passenger Sectors, and a list of freighters and passenger ships that can be commandeered in a hurry.  We think we’ve spotted the time line the Organization’s using as a base.  As soon as we raid a couple of places near Nharkan and Novilan Equivalents, we’re going to move in for a planet-wide cleanup.”