annoying. Giyt controlled his temper. Hagbarth wasn't the first person in authority Giyt had had to get along with—briefly, at least—in his infrequent spells as an employee of some large concern. Experience had taught him patience, even when you knew that to almost any question there would be only two probable responses: either "Don't worry about it" or "Forget it."
This time Hagbarth expanded slightly on the stock reply. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I'll flange something up. Anyway, when you get to the next commission meeting you can tell the Kalks there's a high-powered expert coming from Earth to look into the problem."
"Really? What's he going to do?"
"He's a she, and what she's going to do is study the problem, what did you think? Listen, Evesham, you worry too much. Just take it easy. Have another beer."
Giyt, who hadn't touched the first one, repressed a sigh. "Thanks, no." He looked around at the Petty-Prime Responsible One, still engaged in unfriendly conversation with the Delt who had stepped on his child; evidently he would have to wait for his ride back. To make conversation, he offered: "This is the first time I've been here. Do you always come down to meet the rocket?"
Hagbarth looked at him with a cautious expression. "Not always."
"Just to pick up that package this time, I guess?" He meant nothing by it, but Hagbarth seemed to consider it a significant question. "Oh, that. Well, sure. Sometimes there's a shipment corning down from the Pole that has to be met, that's all. You know how it is. Most of the stuff comes by cargo sub, but there are some goods people are more in a hurry for than others." He sighed and stretched, then looked over Giyt's shoulder. "I promised to give .the damn Delt a ride, but I didn't say I'd wait all day," he complained, then began to grin. "Look at those silly little Petty-Prime buggers; they're nuts, you know that?"
Giyt turned around to look. The Responsible One was still arguing with the Delt, but his kits were playing their childhood games. One' pair had turned itself into an animated wheel—each kit holding the ankles of the other and rolling across the mossy ground. Another pair was standing back to back, trying to flail their arms around to strike each other. "I've seen grown-up Petty-Primes doing that one," Giyt announced. "It seems to be a big sport on the home planet."
Hagbarth gave him a questioning frown. "How do you know what they do on the home planet?" So, of course, Giyt had to tell him how, just for the fun of it, he'd gone to the trouble of figuring out the Petty-Prime protocols so he could listen in on their transmissions.
That seemed to impress Hagbarth. He said, "Huh." Then he reached into the cooler and pulled out two more beers. He popped them both open and handed one to Giyt, without asking whether he wanted it or not.
"You know," he said, "I forgot how good you were at that stuff." Giyt shrugged modestly, but Hagbarth persisted. "I wonder if you could do something important for me."
Giyt got cautious. "What's that?"
"Well, you know how we handle transmissions at the portal? There's six of us, and each one has a switch; if we turn it off, the transmission fails. Only that's a pretty dangerous situation, you know? What I'd like, if you could do it, is to figure out how I can cut the other guys out of the circuit."
Startled: "What the hell for?"
"So as to prevent accidents," Hagbarth explained. "This whole six-switch business doesn't make any sense. They just have it because they're scared, but what could happen? Who would try to sneak anything really bad through the terminal, for God's sake?"
Giyt said cautiously, "Well, you can't blame them for not taking any chances—"
"Sure, but, the way it works out, this 'safety' thing might actually cause an accident, don't you see? Something could go wrong. Hell, something did, once."
He stopped there, but Giyt's curiosity was piqued. He persisted. "What did?"
"It was a while ago," Hagbarth
This time Hagbarth expanded slightly on the stock reply. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I'll flange something up. Anyway, when you get to the next commission meeting you can tell the Kalks there's a high-powered expert coming from Earth to look into the problem."
"Really? What's he going to do?"
"He's a she, and what she's going to do is study the problem, what did you think? Listen, Evesham, you worry too much. Just take it easy. Have another beer."
Giyt, who hadn't touched the first one, repressed a sigh. "Thanks, no." He looked around at the Petty-Prime Responsible One, still engaged in unfriendly conversation with the Delt who had stepped on his child; evidently he would have to wait for his ride back. To make conversation, he offered: "This is the first time I've been here. Do you always come down to meet the rocket?"
Hagbarth looked at him with a cautious expression. "Not always."
"Just to pick up that package this time, I guess?" He meant nothing by it, but Hagbarth seemed to consider it a significant question. "Oh, that. Well, sure. Sometimes there's a shipment corning down from the Pole that has to be met, that's all. You know how it is. Most of the stuff comes by cargo sub, but there are some goods people are more in a hurry for than others." He sighed and stretched, then looked over Giyt's shoulder. "I promised to give .the damn Delt a ride, but I didn't say I'd wait all day," he complained, then began to grin. "Look at those silly little Petty-Prime buggers; they're nuts, you know that?"
Giyt turned around to look. The Responsible One was still arguing with the Delt, but his kits were playing their childhood games. One' pair had turned itself into an animated wheel—each kit holding the ankles of the other and rolling across the mossy ground. Another pair was standing back to back, trying to flail their arms around to strike each other. "I've seen grown-up Petty-Primes doing that one," Giyt announced. "It seems to be a big sport on the home planet."
Hagbarth gave him a questioning frown. "How do you know what they do on the home planet?" So, of course, Giyt had to tell him how, just for the fun of it, he'd gone to the trouble of figuring out the Petty-Prime protocols so he could listen in on their transmissions.
That seemed to impress Hagbarth. He said, "Huh." Then he reached into the cooler and pulled out two more beers. He popped them both open and handed one to Giyt, without asking whether he wanted it or not.
"You know," he said, "I forgot how good you were at that stuff." Giyt shrugged modestly, but Hagbarth persisted. "I wonder if you could do something important for me."
Giyt got cautious. "What's that?"
"Well, you know how we handle transmissions at the portal? There's six of us, and each one has a switch; if we turn it off, the transmission fails. Only that's a pretty dangerous situation, you know? What I'd like, if you could do it, is to figure out how I can cut the other guys out of the circuit."
Startled: "What the hell for?"
"So as to prevent accidents," Hagbarth explained. "This whole six-switch business doesn't make any sense. They just have it because they're scared, but what could happen? Who would try to sneak anything really bad through the terminal, for God's sake?"
Giyt said cautiously, "Well, you can't blame them for not taking any chances—"
"Sure, but, the way it works out, this 'safety' thing might actually cause an accident, don't you see? Something could go wrong. Hell, something did, once."
He stopped there, but Giyt's curiosity was piqued. He persisted. "What did?"
"It was a while ago," Hagbarth
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