"You did. Here's your seal."
Morehouse showed Steve the sheet of paper giving the _Astarte_ a clean
bill of health from the Guardian Patrol.
"Hagen, what kind of a game are you playing?"
"Game?"
"Hagen--or Wrightwood?"
Steve looked at Lois. Morehouse said: "She hasn't told us anything that
we did not know, Wrightwood."
"Look," said Steve angrily, "my name's Hagen."
"How long have you had it?" asked Morehouse.
"All my life. I answer to it."
"We know that. Lois called at you half way across the campus and
you turned; a man taking an assumed name doesn't always react to an
unexpected use of it."
"Look," said Steve, as angrily as before, "I've never tried to conceal
the fact; all I've tried to do is ignore it. So I'm William Wrightwood
Junior, according to a few dozen people who do not believe their eyes
or cannot read. To my friends and to the rest of the world, I am Steve
Hagen, which is the name my father and mother gave me long before I
was born." Steve's eyes grew soft for a moment and he smiled in a
reminiscent fashion. "I've been told that my name would have been
Catherine if I'd been constructed differently."
"All right, what's your game?"
"Game--schmame. What do you mean?"
"Hagen, why are you here and what do you hope to accomplish?"
"I'm here because I want to be a Guardian."
"And how is William Wrightwood fitted into this picture?"
* * * * *
Steve sat down suddenly. "Look, Commissioner Morehouse, if you think
for one moment that I am among the Guardians so that I can cast some
discredit upon them so that William Wrightwood can take over, you're
much mistaken. Wrightwood can roast in hell for all of me."
Steve turned and looked at Lois. "Do you believe me? Are you on my
side--or have you been playing Mata Hari with my feelings?"