First Lensman E. E. Smith (superbooks4u txt) đ
- Author: E. E. Smith
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Jack, blushing furiously, picked up the cloak and flung it at the oblivious couple.
âP-s-s-t! P-s-s-t! Jill! Wrap âem up!â he whispered, urgently. âAll the top brass in space is coming at full emergency blastâ âthereâll be scrambled eggs all over the place any second nowâ âMase! Damn your thick, hard skull, snap out of it! Heâs always frothing at the mouth about her running around half naked and if he sees her like thisâ âespecially with youâ âheâll simply have a litter of lizards! Youâll get a million black spots and seven hundred years in the clink! Thatâs betterâ ââbye nowâ âIâll see you up at New York Spaceport.â
Jack Kinnison dashed to the nearest window, threw it open, and dived headlong out of the building.
XIVThe employment office of any concern with personnel running into the hundreds of thousands is a busy place indeed, even when its plants are all on Tellus and its working conditions are as nearly ideal as such things can be made. When that firmâs business is Colonial, however, and its working conditions are only a couple of degrees removed from slavery, procurement of personnel is a first-magnitude problem; the Personnel Department, like Alice in Wonderland, must run as fast as it can go in order to stay where it is. Thus the âHelp Wantedâ advertisements of Uranium, Incorporated covered the planet Earth with blandishment and guile; and thus for twelve hours of every day and for seven days of every week the employment offices of Uranium, Inc. were filled with menâ âmostly the scum of Earth.
There were, of course, exceptions; one of which strode through the motley group of waiting men and thrust a card through the âInformationâ wicket. He was a chunky-looking individual, appearing shorter than his actual five feet nine because of a hundred and ninety pounds of weightâ âeven though every pound was placed exactly where it would do the most good. He lookedâ âwell, slouchyâ âand his mien was sullen.
âBirkenfeldâ âby appointment,â he growled through the wicket, in a voice which could have been pleasantly deep.
The coolly efficient blonde manipulated plugs. âMr. George W. Jones, sir, by appointment.â ââ ⊠Thank you, sir,â and Mr. Jones was escorted into Mr. Birkenfeldâs private office.
âHave a chair, please, Mr.â ââ ⊠erâ ââ ⊠Jones.â
âSo you know?â
âYes. It is seldom that a man of your education, training, and demonstrated ability applies to us for employment of his own initiative, and a very thorough investigation is indicated.â
âWhat am I here for, then?â the visitor demanded, truculently. âYou could have turned me down by mail. Everybody else has, since I got out.â
âYou are here because we who operate on the frontiers cannot afford to pass judgment upon a man because of his past, unless that past precludes the probability of a useful future. Yours does not; and in some cases, such as yours, we are very deeply interested in the future.â The officialâs eyes drilled deep.
Conway Costigan had never been in the limelight. On the contrary, he had made inconspicuousness a passion and an art. Even in such scenes of violence as that which had occurred at the Ambassadorsâ Ball he managed to remain unnoticed. His Lens had never been visible. No one except Lensmenâ âand Clio and Jillâ âknew that he had one; and Lensmenâ âand Clio and Jillâ âdid not talk. Although he was calmly certain that this Birkenfeld was not an ordinary interviewer, he was equally certain that the investigators of Uranium, Inc. had found out exactly and only what the Patrol had wanted them to find.
âSo?â Jonesâ bearing altered subtly, and not because of the penetrant eyes. âThatâs all I wantâ âa chance. Iâll start at the bottom, as far down as you say.â
âWe advertise, and truthfully, that opportunity on Eridan is unlimited.â Birkenfeld chose his words with care. âIn your case, opportunity will be either absolutely unlimited or zero, depending entirely upon yourself.â
âI see.â Dumbness had not been included in the fictitious Mr. Jonesâ background. âYou donât need to draw a blueprint.â
âYouâll do, I think.â The interviewer nodded in approval. âNevertheless, I must make our position entirely clear. If the slip wasâ âshall we say accidental?â âyou will go far with us. If you try to play false, you will not last long and you will not be missed.â
âFair enough.â
âYour willingness to start at the bottom is commendable, and it is a fact that those who come up through the ranks make the best executives; in our line at least. Just how far down are you willing to start?â
âHow low do you go?â
âA mucker, I think would be low enough; and, from your build, and obvious physical strength, the logical job.â
âMucker?â
âOne who skoufers ore in the mine. Nor can we make any exception in your case as to the routines of induction and transportation.â
âOf course not.â
âTake this slip to Mr. Calkins, in Room 6217. He will run you through the mill.â
And that night, in an obscure boardinghouse, Mr. George Washington Jones, after a meticulous Service Special survey in every direction, reached a large and somewhat grimy hand into a screened receptacle in his battered suitcase and touched a Lens.
âClio?â The lovely mother of their wonderful children appeared in his mind. âMade it, sweetheart, no suspicion at all. No more Lensing for a whileâ ânot too long, I hopeâ âsoâ ââ ⊠so-long, Clio.â
âTake it easy, Spud darling, and be careful.â Her tone was light, but she could not conceal a stark background of fear. âOh, I wish I could go, too!â
âI wish you could, Tootie.â The linked minds flashed back to what the two had done together in the red opacity of Nevian murk; on Neviaâs mighty, watery globeâ âbut that kind of thinking would not do. âBut the boys will keep in touch with me and keep you posted. And besides, you know how hard it is to get a babysitter!â
It is strange that the fundamental operations of working metalliferous veins have changed so little throughout the ages. Or is it? Ores came into being with the crusts of the planets; they change appreciably
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