to practice this art with total dedication.
"Aren't you going to discuss this situation with me, Chuck?" Winston asked stiffly.
"Nothing to discuss. You can't wait 'til middle-age to start drinking and expect to get anything out of it"
"You know what I'm talking about. Now Chuck, I'm disturbed as hell over this data. Let's—"
"Then go be disturbed someplace else," Waring growled. "This isn't the place for it. I can tell you where you went wrong, Winston."
"For God's sake, Chuck, this is—"
"Shut up! I was just looking at your dossier the other day. There's a lot of dangerous stuff in there, Michael my boy. A lot of it. How come you're not in prison?"
Winston sighed and retrieved the print-out. "Well, I'd better go find somebody sober to talk this over with."
"You talk to nobody!" Waring rasped. He finished the drink, wiped Ms lips on the back of his hand, and hunched his shoulders into an aggressive posturing. "Every word you say, you hang your ass a little Mgher. Now I'm not going to answer for your sophomoric flag waving. No sir. You talk to nobody but me. Understand?"
"Chuck, there are something like fifty thousand Toms in tMs country who are almost certainly organized into some wild 6ort of espionage ring—God, maybe even trained assassins and saboteurs. There are tons upon uncountable tons of war munitions and heavy weapons of every description being stockpiled about the country in either direct control of black army forces or minimally protected by skeleton crews of wMte state-guardsmen."
Waring poured himself another drink. "Do tell. Who gives a shit?"
"The Toms are into everything. I talked to one awhile ago who is an aide to the Chairman of the Senate Armed Forces Committee, such as it is. And two of them were tailing me all over Washington today."
Waring chuckled. "And they may be servicing the President's niece. You gotta learn to mind your own business in this city, Mike. That's something you still have to learn."
"Oh, hell," Winston commented miserably. "You haven't the merest grasp of what I'm telling you, do you?"
"Watch it, sonny. Just watch it. This is the head nigger- 1 tender who's doing all the talking. Don't forget that. Don't ever forget that. Baby sitters to a bunch of damn town niggers. God damn! Lot of useless effort if I ever heard it!"
"Don't drink any more, Chuck. Let's go get some air. j The air in here is enough to—we simply have to talk about this."
"I'll tell you where you went wrong, Winston. You're too ambitious. You think too much. You're always pushing, making waves, always running around waving a flag over somebody's head. You fucking-near got your ass hung back there at UC. It's in the dossier. Hell, it's all in there. Did you know the Attorney General backtracked you through five generations?" Waring laughed raucously. "You didn't know it! They thought sure as hell they'd bought themselves a fracto for the country's top cop. Scared the abundant society right out of them. You never knew that, huh?"
"I'll be going," Winston said. He scraped back his chair, but did not quite get out of it.
Waring lunged across the table and captured him with a heavy hand, roaring, "YouH go when I tell you to!" He gazed about to see if anyone was noticing the ruckus, then showed Winston a crafty smile. "You think you're bucking for my job, don't you? Even got my personal secretary making googy eyes at you. You wanta be head nigger-tender, don't you? Listen, sonny boy, forget it. Arlington would never have it. Never. It satisfies his weird sense of justice to let you sweat your ass off over nigger problems, but he'll never see you in a bureau chief's spot. Never."
"I don't want your job, Chuck," Winston, wearily replied.
"Then why're you running around making waves all the time, huh? A youth center for Detroit Heights! A new hospital for Cleveland! Housing developments for this place and that, town roads, higher relief credits, better work offers! Where do you come off with all this
"Aren't you going to discuss this situation with me, Chuck?" Winston asked stiffly.
"Nothing to discuss. You can't wait 'til middle-age to start drinking and expect to get anything out of it"
"You know what I'm talking about. Now Chuck, I'm disturbed as hell over this data. Let's—"
"Then go be disturbed someplace else," Waring growled. "This isn't the place for it. I can tell you where you went wrong, Winston."
"For God's sake, Chuck, this is—"
"Shut up! I was just looking at your dossier the other day. There's a lot of dangerous stuff in there, Michael my boy. A lot of it. How come you're not in prison?"
Winston sighed and retrieved the print-out. "Well, I'd better go find somebody sober to talk this over with."
"You talk to nobody!" Waring rasped. He finished the drink, wiped Ms lips on the back of his hand, and hunched his shoulders into an aggressive posturing. "Every word you say, you hang your ass a little Mgher. Now I'm not going to answer for your sophomoric flag waving. No sir. You talk to nobody but me. Understand?"
"Chuck, there are something like fifty thousand Toms in tMs country who are almost certainly organized into some wild 6ort of espionage ring—God, maybe even trained assassins and saboteurs. There are tons upon uncountable tons of war munitions and heavy weapons of every description being stockpiled about the country in either direct control of black army forces or minimally protected by skeleton crews of wMte state-guardsmen."
Waring poured himself another drink. "Do tell. Who gives a shit?"
"The Toms are into everything. I talked to one awhile ago who is an aide to the Chairman of the Senate Armed Forces Committee, such as it is. And two of them were tailing me all over Washington today."
Waring chuckled. "And they may be servicing the President's niece. You gotta learn to mind your own business in this city, Mike. That's something you still have to learn."
"Oh, hell," Winston commented miserably. "You haven't the merest grasp of what I'm telling you, do you?"
"Watch it, sonny. Just watch it. This is the head nigger- 1 tender who's doing all the talking. Don't forget that. Don't ever forget that. Baby sitters to a bunch of damn town niggers. God damn! Lot of useless effort if I ever heard it!"
"Don't drink any more, Chuck. Let's go get some air. j The air in here is enough to—we simply have to talk about this."
"I'll tell you where you went wrong, Winston. You're too ambitious. You think too much. You're always pushing, making waves, always running around waving a flag over somebody's head. You fucking-near got your ass hung back there at UC. It's in the dossier. Hell, it's all in there. Did you know the Attorney General backtracked you through five generations?" Waring laughed raucously. "You didn't know it! They thought sure as hell they'd bought themselves a fracto for the country's top cop. Scared the abundant society right out of them. You never knew that, huh?"
"I'll be going," Winston said. He scraped back his chair, but did not quite get out of it.
Waring lunged across the table and captured him with a heavy hand, roaring, "YouH go when I tell you to!" He gazed about to see if anyone was noticing the ruckus, then showed Winston a crafty smile. "You think you're bucking for my job, don't you? Even got my personal secretary making googy eyes at you. You wanta be head nigger-tender, don't you? Listen, sonny boy, forget it. Arlington would never have it. Never. It satisfies his weird sense of justice to let you sweat your ass off over nigger problems, but he'll never see you in a bureau chief's spot. Never."
"I don't want your job, Chuck," Winston, wearily replied.
"Then why're you running around making waves all the time, huh? A youth center for Detroit Heights! A new hospital for Cleveland! Housing developments for this place and that, town roads, higher relief credits, better work offers! Where do you come off with all this
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