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."The weapons in a non-shooting war are those of theft, bribery, blackmail, seduction,murder, anything and everything that is effective for its purpose.They can and do causecasualties on both sides.The logical method of fighting a non-shooting war is to employevery available means of increasing the enemy's losses while, at the same time, preventingor reducing one's own.The latter is fully as important as the former-and the latter is my job.It's the responsibility of my department to beat off attacks on our brainpower.""You're telling me nothing that's new and wonderful," Bransome complained."And so faras I'm concerned it's a hell of a thing when a fellow can't take time off without being suspected of planning to sell what he's got in his head.""You're oversimplifying the situation," Reardon asserted."Basically there are two waysof weakening the enemy.You can acquire his brains for your own use or, if that provesimpossible, you can deprive him of the use of them.It's a dog-in-the-manger policy: if I can'temploy that genius, neither can you, see? So let's say that inherently you're too loyal to sellwhat you've got in your head.What then?""So what then?""The enemy removes your head so that if he can't have it neither can anyone else.""Bunk! I'm not worth the bother of decapitating.""That's like saying a soldier isn't worth the bother of sending to the battlefront.As onesingle, solitary individual, maybe he isn't.But as a hundred, a thousand or ten thousandindividuals he becomes a formidable force that can make all the difference between defeatand victory." Reardon stopped for a moment to let his words sink in, then said, "Personally Icould not care less about one Bransome.I'm worried about a hundred or a thousandBransomes.""My"You've got one consolation," Bransome pointed out.head is still tight on myshoulders.""I've been speaking metaphorically, as you're well aware.A brain that suddenly refusesto continue working for its country is a valuable intelligence lost to that country.It's a casualtyin the undeclared war.In this highly technological age the deadliest strike one can makeagainst a foe is to deprive him of his brains, whether or not one acquires them oneself.Either way it's a setback.""That's obvious," agreed Bransome."Any fool can see it and-without boasting-I did mysums many years ago.But I still don't see how all this applies to me right now.""I'm getting to that," Reardon responded."Some good men have been lost within thelast couple of years, not only from your plant but also from several others.They are over andabove the quota of natural losses attributable to retirement, illness or death.If we don'tdevise some way of stopping it the company will become a regiment and the regiment willbecome an army." He made a sweeping gesture."After that-blooey!""Are you sure the losses aren't natural?" asked Bransome, remembering the suspicionshe had voiced to Berg."We're pretty sure.We're next door to positive.What is bad is that it took us far too longto realize that something extraordinary was happening.All the casualties were trustworthyand valuable men.All started falling down on their jobs, acting out of character and generallygoing to pieces.Some deteriorated quicker than others.Some took off without so much asa sweet goodbye.Others resigned or sought leave of absence or took a vacation fromwhich they didn't return.Several of them faded across the border.We know what they aredoing today and it's nothing contrary to this country's interest.But we can't bring them backwithout extraditable reason.So long as they behave themselves in the country of their choicethey can stay put for keeps and there's nothing we can do about it.Recently we traced andcaught up with three still in this country.""And what happened?""All three stood pat on their fundamental right to live where they like and do any kind ofwork they please.Their jobs weren't as good as the ones they'd thrown up but they insistedthat they preferred them and were under no obligation to explain the preference.In theopinion of the agents who reported on them, all three were scared about something or other.It was obvious that they resented being traced and questioned.""Can't say I blame them," Bransome offered."I detest being tracked like a felon.I didn'tsmack you in the teeth for nothing.I felt it was high time you learned to live and let live."Taking no notice, Reardon continued, "Soon afterward they disappeared again, wereretraced to other places and other jobs.We decided to keep an eye on them withoutbothering them any further.We were compelled to face the ugly fact that brains had ceasedto work for this country and we had no way of compelling them to do so.There lies the weakness of our virtues; some other kind of regime could and would exercise compulsion.""So you've got me tagged as the next rebel on the list?" asked Bransome, immenselyrelieved at finding that the real reason for his antics remained unknown and unsuspected."You and another," Reardon informed."The day we decided to smell along yourfootprints we took off after a fellow elsewhere.He'd been showing the same symptoms.""Caught up with him yet?""No-but we will eventually." Reardon went on with, "Unknown to you, we had sent a flieraround all weapon-research establishments asking for prompt information on anyemployees who left their jobs suddenly or showed signs of cracking or who were behavingstrangely in any way.That's how we got a line on you.""Who put you on to me?""Not telling," said Reardon, flatly."It was someone who considered that you were nolonger your sweet little self.""Cain for a bet," hazarded Bransome."He's always fancied himself as an amateurpsychologist.""I'm not playing guessing games, so don't think you can identify the culprit by process ofelimination.""All right-I'll accept that some yap yapped.""So I came along.I looked over the evidence, followed you around, decided thatdefinitely you had the fidgets and might be about to throw things over.It takes something,really something, to persuade a man to rid himself of good pay, good prospects andsecurity.We want to know what does it.If we can discover that much, we can put a stop toit.""In my case you're going" to have a hard time preventing something that has never beenstarted," Bransome advised."I don't believe you.Know what I think? I think you are reacting to some serious threat toyourself or to your wife and children."Bransome said nothing."There's no threat that can't be met and countered," argued Reardon, encouraged bythe other's silence."We can meet it and beat it provided we know exactly what it is.Otherwise we're left to fumble in the dark." His penetrating eyes studied Bransome withcare."If somebody is being menaced, tell us who and how.We'll tend to it, you can bet yourlife on that!"Hah, that was a laugh! The government would give protection to a malefactor that itwould be obliged to punish if the truth became known.Reardon was talking about an enemyon the other side of the planet, when all the time the real foe was The Law armed with thegas chamber and the electric chair.The intervention of Military Intelligence was now explained.They and the police wereworking at cross-purposes without knowing it
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