'I told the PM we wouldn't back down,' Warrender said. 'Either that or we revise the Immigration Act and do what we have to do above board.'

The deputy asked tentatively, 'And Mr Howden…'

'We've a free hand,' Warrender said shortly. 'I've agreed to review the case, but after that we handle it our way.'

'That's very good news.' Hess put down a file he had been carrying and the two men lowered themselves into facing chairs. Not for the first time the pudgy deputy speculated on the relationship between his own Minister and the Rt Hon James McCallum Howden. Obviously some kind of special rapport existed, since Harvey Warrender had always seemed to have an unusual degree of freedom, compared with other members of the Cabinet. It was a circumstance, though, not to be quarrelled with and had made possible the translation of some of the deputy minister's own. policies into reality. Outsiders, Claude Hess reflected, sometimes thought that policy was the sole prerogative of elected representatives. But to a surprising degree the process of government consisted of elected representatives putting into law the ideas of an elite corps of deputy ministers.

Pursing his lips, Hess said thoughtfully, 'I hope you weren't serious about revising the Immigration Act, Mr Minister. On the whole it's good law.'

'Naturally you'd think so,' Warrender said shortly. 'You wrote it in the first place.'

'Well, I must admit to a certain parental fondness…'

'I don't agree with all your ideas about population,' Harvey Warrender said. 'You know that, don't you?'

The deputy smiled. 'In the course of our relationship I have gathered something of the kind. But, if I may say so, you are, at the same time, a realist.'

'If you mean I don't want Canada swamped by Chinese and Negroes, you're right,' Warrender said tersely. He went on, more slowly, 'All the same though, I sometimes wonder. We're sitting on four million square miles of some of the richest real estate in the world, we're under-populated, underdeveloped; and the earth is teeming with people, seeking sanctuary, a new home…'

'Nothing would be. solved,' Hess said primly, 'by opening our doors wide to all comers.'

'Not for us, perhaps, but what about the rest of the world – the wars which may happen again if there isn't an outlet for population expansion somewhere?'

'It would be a high price to pay, I think, for eventualities which may never occur.' Claude Hess folded one leg over another, adjusting the crease in his faultlessly tailored trousers. 'I take the view, Mr Minister – as you are aware, of course – that Canada's influence in world affairs can be far greater as we are, with our present balance of population, than by allowing ourselves to be overrun by less desirable races.'

'In other words,' Harvey Warrender said softly, 'let's hang on to the privileges we were lucky enough to be born to.'

The deputy smiled faintly. 'As I said a moment ago, we are both realists.'

'Well, maybe you're right.' Harvey Warrender drummed his fingers on the desk. 'There are some things I've never really made up my mind about, and that's one. But one thing I am sure of, is that the.people of this country are responsible for our immigration laws, and they should be made to realize it, and they'll never realize it while we shift and waver. That's why we'll enforce the act right down the line – no matter which way it reads as long as I'm sitting in this chair.'

'Bravo!' The pudgy deputy mouthed the word slowly. He was smiling.

There was a pause between them in which Harvey War-render's eyes moved up to a point above the deputy's head. Without turning, Hess knew what it was the Minister saw: a portrait in oils of a young man, in Royal Canadian Air Force uniform. It had been painted from a photograph after the death in action of Harvey Warrender's son. Many times before in this room Claude Hess had seen the father's eyes straying to the picture, and sometimes they had spoken of it.

Now Warrender said, as if recognizing the other's awareness, 'I often think about my son, you know.'

Hess nodded slowly. It was not a new opening and sometimes he sidestepped it. Today he decided to reply.

'I never had a son,' Hess said. 'Just daughters. We've a good relationship, but I've always thought there must be something special between a father and son.'

'There is,' Harvey Warrender said. 'There is, and it never quite dies – not for me, anyway.' He went on, his voice warming. 'I think so many times of what my son Howard could have been. He was a splendid boy, always with the finest courage. That was his outstanding feature – courage; and in the end he died heroically. I've often told myself I've that to be proud of.'

The deputy wondered if heroism were the kind of thing he would remember a son of his own by. But the Minister had said much the same thing before, to others as well as himself, seeming unaware of repetition. Sometimes Harvey Warrender would describe in graphic detail the blazing air battle in which his son had died until it was hard to be sure where sorrow ended and hero worship began. At times there had been comments around Ottawa on the subject, though most of them charitable. Grief did strange things, Claude Hess thought, even sometimes producing a parody of grief. He was glad when his superior's tone became more businesslike.

'All right,' Warrender said, 'let's talk about this Vancouver thing. One thing I want to be sure of is that we're absolutely in the clear legally. That's important.'

'Yes, I know.' Hess nodded sagely, then touched the file he had brought in. 'I've gone over the reports again, sir, and I'm sure there's nothing you need worry about. Only one thing concerns me a little.'

'The publicity?'

'No; I think you'll have to expect that.' Actually the publicity had bothered Hess, who had been convinced that political pressure would cause the Government to back down on enforcement of the Immigration Act, as had happened many times before. Apparently, though, he had been wrong. Now he continued, 'What I was thinking is that we don't have a senior man in Vancouver right now. Williamson, our district superintendent, is on sick leave and it may be several months before he's back, if at all.'

'Yes,' Warrender said. He lit a cigarette, offering one to the deputy minister, who accepted it. 'I remember now.'

'In the ordinary way I wouldn't get concerned; but if the pressure builds up, as it may, I'd like to have someone out there I can rely on personally, and who can handle the Press.'

'I presume you've something in mind.'

'Yes.' Hess had been thinking quickly. The decision to stand firm had pleased him. Warrender was eccentric at times, but Hess believed in loyalty, and now he must protect his Minister's position in every way possible. He said thoughtfully, 'I could shuffle some responsibilities here and relieve one of my deputy directors. Then he could take charge in Vancouver -ostensibly until we know about Williamson, but actually to handle this specific case.'

'I agree.' Warrender nodded vigorously. 'Who do you think should go?'

The deputy minister exhaled cigarette smoke. He was smiling slightly. 'Kramer,' he said slowly. 'With your approval, sir, I'll send Edgar Kramer.'