Everett B. Cole

“ Sorta keep production up.
"Lot of guys get real big jobs that way. Start out, they're Staff Assistance Specialists, like they roust the mugs when they got to. Then pretty quick, they're all dressed up fancy, running things. Real good deal." He shrugged.
"Need a heavy man once in a while, even in my business. Like maybe some guy's got a good pad, he doesn't want a lot of prowlers shaking up the neighbors. You know, gets the law too close, and a guy can't work so good with a lot of joes hanging around. ”

“ Stan looked at him questioningly.
"Sure." Marlo nodded. "So you come here, like maybe you're a tourist, see. But the joes get you and they bring you up here. Going to teach you a trade—fabricator nurse, see. Only they don't know it but you're one guy they don't have to teach, 'counta you got something better. All you gotta do is find your way around."
"I have? Do you really think...."
"Sure. Look, there's a lot of antique big-timers around, see. These old guys figure they need some guy can push the mugs. Pay real good, too, and they couldn't care less you're a graduate. ”

“ Need tools you don't buy in no store, like maybe a good can opener a guy can carry easy. And they pay real good, you make what they want and keep your mouth shut." He rubbed his chin.
"Nice," he went on. "Real nice. And all you need is maybe a few tools you can buy anywhere. And maybe you gotta build up a little forge. Guy knew his way around, he could make a nice pile that way."
Stan looked at the man thoughtfully.
"Sounds interesting," he broke in, "but suppose they find some fabricator operator out in the woods, heating up metal instead of working on a regular job? ”

“ Man, you just don't know how many guys been watching that Vernay."
Stan walked across the cell and sat down on his bunk.
"Look," he said patiently, "let's just say I'm some stupid kid from off planet. Maybe I don't get things so well. Now, what's this all about?"
Marlo shrugged. "So all right, but for some guy don't know what he's doing, you sure pick 'em pretty. Well, anyway, here's the layout.
"See, this guy, Vernay, is one of Janzel's big strong-arms. Real salt and butter guy. Been pushing them poor apes of theirs all over the place, see. ”

“ Smart words—always pushing the wrong people off balance, like other staffmen." The smile became one-sided.
"You know, you haven't made yourself too popular around here. Not with the people that count. I've been getting complaints.
"A good staffman doesn't act the way you do. Good man sees to it the workers work. They don't have to like him—they just get on the job when he's around. Know what'll happen if they slack off.
"And a good staffman leaves the thinking to guys that get paid to do it. He follows established procedure."
He leaned close to Stan, frowning. ”

“ Be working with some of 'em, too, remember?"
"Oh, I don't try to push anybody around." Stan perched on his bunk. "Doesn't hurt anyone to study, though."
"Oh, sure." Holme grimaced. "Do you a lot of good, too. Guy's working on some production run, it helps a lot he knows why all them big guys in the history books did them things, huh?" He laughed derisively.
"Sure it does! What they want, you should make that fabricator spit out nice parts, see?" He swelled his chest.
"Now me, I got my mind on my business, see. I get out of here, I oughta make out pretty good." He looked around the cell. ”

“ Stan glanced down at the floor.
There would be no point in explaining the intensive close combat training he'd been put through at school. Such training would make no sense to his cellmates. To the good citizens of Kellonia, it would seem horrifyingly illegal. He glanced up again.
"You know how it is," he went on. "A guy learns as he goes."
Big Carl Marlo swung his legs over the side of his bunk. ”

“ Smart kids like you can make out pretty good, you just use your heads. Ain't nothing down Talburg way, though." He yawned.
"Well, I've had it. Got into it with that Wanzor again, out on the pile. Give one of them joes a boost, he gets three meters high." He yawned again and turned toward the wall.
Stan flipped the pages of the book. He had still been unable to put his finger on the point at which Kellonia had ceased to be a planet of free citizens and become the planetary prison he had found himself on. ”

“ Go out, pull a good job, then I lay around, maybe a year and think up another. Then, when I'm all ready, I go out, pull a can or two open and lift what they got back to the pad. Ain't gonna be no more of this scuffling around, hitting a quick one and running out to spend the pins quick, so's I can get in no traps."
He looked at Holme thoughtfully.
"I just now think of something, kid. You can make yourself a nice bit, real easy. Don't cost hardly nothing to set up and there ain't much risk. You work more'n a year, learning all about tools, huh? They teach you all about making tools, huh?" ”

“ He glanced at Dachmann. "Got another one for you."
Stan took the papers, studying them. Then he looked up. There was very little question as to the bottleneck here. Each material shortage traced back to one machine. He frowned.
"Maintenance people checked over that machine yet?" he asked.
Wizow shrugged impassively. "You're a staffman," he said coldly. "Been on parole to us long enough, you should know what to do, so I'm not going to tell you how. Just get to the trouble and fix it. All I want is production. Leave the smart talk to the technical people." He turned. ”

“ They'll tack you down for malingering if you don't watch it." Stan got to his feet.
"Tell you what you do. Run things just as you did when you were a contract man. Only one thing—if any crew comes around, pull a sample after they leave. And check it. You know how to check for magnetic and gravitic deviations. Do that, then go ahead with your run. Now go back to your machine. I'm going to do a little work."
He strode out of the refreshment room, watched Sornal as he took over the production run, then swung around and walked over to the Personnel office. ”

“ During the first three hundred years, people had spread over the planet, but the frontier stage had passed and the land of promise had stabilized, adopted laws, embraced the arts and sciences. One by one, frontier farms had given way to mechanized food-producing land, worked by trained technical teams and administered by professional management.
Kellonia had entered the age of industrialized culture, with the large individual owner a disappearing species. ”

“ Even with muscle hardware, he can put out jobs faster'n them people can get parts from way down Talburg way, see.
"And he gets in with the joes, too. They got their troubles getting things made up for 'em. So this guy gives them a hand. Even working cheap, he picks up some change there, too, and one way or another, the guy's got a living, see?" He glanced back at Holme.
"Only now and then, here comes a few guys in the back door, they want a special job, see, for real special pay. And there's your ice cream and cake. And maybe a little stack for later on."
"I don't know." Stan picked up a book. ”

“ Especially if the guy's already picked up a record."
"Naw." Marlo turned toward him. "So he's a graduate—who ain't? See, they show this guy up here, he's supposed to be a fabmeister. Only maybe he don't like punching keys. Maybe he don't like to chase them meters, huh? So maybe he'd rather use muscle hardware, see?" He grinned.
"Some guy sets himself up a shack up valley, see? Starts a fixit joint. Looks real legit. ”

“ Stan shrugged. "Guy never knows what he can do till he tries. I know a few other tricks, if that's what you mean."
Marlo nodded. "Yeah. Know something, kid? Ain't no use you waste your time being no fabricator nurse. ”

“ He shrugged.
"So I came back to the hotel and someone hit me with a flasher. I came to in a cell." He glanced around.
"Somebody finally told me they'd given me two to five years for carrying a dangerous weapon and subversive literature. Now what would I get if I went out and really messed some guy up?"
Marlo waved a hand carelessly.
"Depends on who you work for," he declared. "You got the right boss, you get a bonus. Worse the guy's gaffed, the bigger the payoff, see?"
Stan reached for his bag of toilet articles.
"That's legitimate?"
"Sure." Mario smiled expansively. "Happens all the time. ”

“ Stan frowned distastefully and Marlo held up a hand.
"Oh, that's all right," he said. "This is what they pay this guy for. But he gets to like his work too well, know what I mean? So here a while back, he gets on some machine tender. Leans all over this poor guy. Well, the fab nurse ends up turning in his tickets, and this, the joes don't go for so good." He jerked a shoulder.
"Oh, Janzel tries to kill the squawk, but it's no go. The joes push the button and here's Vernay." He grinned. ”

“ Now he could get these people to take Mauson before a determinator. His statements would furnish plenty of evidence for a full search of Janzel's Personnel files.
He jerked his head at Mauson.
"Inside."
He waited as the man stepped through the door, then followed.
A slender man was standing behind a wide desk.
"Well," he said calmly. "Welcome home, Graham. Glad you could make it."
"Major Michaels!" Stan forgot everything he had planned to say.
The other smiled. "Let's say Agent Michaels," he corrected. "Special Corpsmen don't have actual Guard rank. ”

“ He talks to the determinators and the joes don't worry you none. Just costs a little something, is all."
Pete looked up from his packing, a smile twisting his face.
"Only trouble, some of these big boys fall in love with their work. This can get real troublesome, like I pick up this five to ten this way.
"See, they get this chump a couple too many. So, comes morning, he's still in the street. Real tough swinging a parole, too. I'm in here since five years, remember? So I'm real careful where I get muscle any more."
"Sounds interesting." Stan nodded thoughtfully. ”

“ We've got to bust a hard-shelled system without hurting too many of the people within it. And we've been at it for a while. We think we've made some progress, but we've still got a lot of snakes to kill. ”

“ The tape was perfect, with neither patch nor correction. Stan finally raised his head, growling to himself.
"Guy's competent enough at programming, anyway. Now, what's wrong with him?"
He snapped the power switch from stand-by to on, then waited as the indicators came up. Delicately, he turned a couple of microdrive dials till the needles settled on their red lines. Then he opened the control head, poked the tape in, and punched the starter lever.
The tape clicked steadily through the head. Stan kept his eyes moving about as he checked the meters. ”

“ Michaels waved the cigarette. "We don't have recruiting offices. All our people have to force their way in. Tell me, do you know anything about the history of this planet?"
Stan clenched his teeth. Somehow, he had lost the initiative in this interview. ”

“ You've got to know better than a lot of other people."
Michaels got to his feet and came around the desk.
"Look, there's no disgrace in getting an academic tossout from here. You had to be way above average to get here. And very few people can make it for one year, let alone three or four."
He raised a hand as Stan started to speak. ”

“ Most useful high explosives, like ammonium nitrate, are enormously violent ... once they're triggered. But they will remain seemingly inert when beaten, burned, variously punished—until the particular shock required comes along.... ”

“ It forbade seizure of records in any manner not definitely authorized by local statute. The sergeant went through it, getting full value from each word.
At last his finger came away from the page.
"Those are private records, you're talking about. On this planet, the law protects corporate records to the fullest extent. We'd have to have positive evidence that an incriminating document was in existence. We'd have to define its location and content within fairly narrow limits. Then we'd have to go before a local determinator and request authority for an examination of that document." ”

“ Marlo frowned.
"Now don't go telling me you don't know about this Vernay. Don't give me you ain't figured how you can land a big job with Janzel Equipment. You know me—Big Carl. I don't talk, remember?" He looked at the blank expression on Stan's face.
"Besides, there ain't a guy in the walls, don't figure this deal by now. ”

“ A gravito unit, you see. It may be unnecessary, but you do have a reputation for a certain—shall we say, competence. Although you have never demonstrated your abilities here, I see no reason for taking foolish chances." His smile faded.
"Now, suppose you tell me all about that visit you made to the Federation Building." ”