I was wondering what it's like, I mean really like, to get up and go to work, just like that, at the CFIA....

"Celia, aaah, don't. No, help. Celia, they will, they'll get me, no kidding, they're here... aaah. Celia, you must, no, don't go, they'll get us all... aah..."

Blackness.

Alarum.

No weekend yet and 9 a.m. It rained on the bed last night. No covers on my feet. Slippers, slippers. Watch the razor, beards don't grow on trees, you know. Cold tile and a starched shirt. 15 collar, 151/2 neck. Crest, Breakfast of Champions. Lock the door. And the New York Times again. Headlines, skinny columns. Oh, I made the news today.

Still raining and no umbrella. Semitic museum, I wonder where they keep them. Do I really work here? Good morning, Cynthia. I mean...

"Good morning, Cynthia."

"Here's the mail. A new book about deterrence."

Thank God I can close the door. Jesus, defense treaties at 9:30. Polaris strike capability. Pre-emptive, no preventative war. Maximum propaganda and credibility effectiveness.

"Sir, Mr. Hyland is here from the CRIMSON."

I MET Professors Robert Bowie, Raymond Vernoh and Joseph Nye in the office of the Director of the Harvard Center for International Affairs (CFIA). I was drenched from riding my bike in the rain and my glasses were still dripping. Four comfortable chairs in a circle and three members of the Center's Executive Committee. Something fishy, I thought.

"Have a seat, Mr. Hyland."

Almost too frightened to choose a seat, I finally remembered Malcolm X's dictum and sat facing the door. They clustered around me and smiled. They were of three different worlds.

I looked at Professor Bowie first. Assistant Secretary of State under John Foster Dulles, I remembered. His Erik Erikson- colored hair was neatly cropped. The metal bridge of his rimless glasses had worn a level plateau at the top of his nose. It was the same kind of bridge that I had on my glasses. I will have a level plateau on the top of my nose too. It was the second day in his white shirt. Nevertheless, very elegant.

Professor Vernon next. Short and very unlikely-looking. A crooked yellow bow-tie and a big smile. He would eat me I thought.