The Major teetered on his heels, thinking. He was a tall, youngish-bald type, with a long, worried, horselike face. He said: "Ah, do you think we should?" "I guarantee there'll be no trouble, Major," Vern promised. The Major pulled at his little mustache. "Very well," he said. "Amy, you come along." "We'll be right here, Major," Vern said reassuringly, escorting him to the door. "You bet you will," said the Major, and tittered. "Ah, bring that gun along with you, Amy. And be sure this man knows that we have bullets." They closed the door. Arthur had been cowering in his suitcase, but now his eyestalk peeped out and the rattling and clattering from that typewriter sounded like the Battle of the Bulge. I demanded: "Come on, Vern. What's this all about?" Vern said: "How much did they offer you?" Clatter-bang-BANG. I peeked, and Arthur was saying: WARNED YOU SAM THAT ENGDAHL WAS UP TO TRICKS PLEASE SAM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HIT HIM ON THE HEAD KNOCK HIM OUT HE MUST HAVE A GUN SO GET IT AND SHOOT OUR WAY OUT OF HERE "A hundred and fifty thousand dollars," I said. Vern looked outraged. "I only got forty!" Arthur clattered: VERN I APPEAL TO YOUR COMMON DECENCY WERE OLD SHIPMATES VERN REMEMBER ALL THE TIMES I "Still," Vern mused, "it's all common funds anyway, right? Arthur belongs to both of us." I DONT DONT DONT REPEAT DONT BELONG TO ANYBODY BUT ME "That's true," I said grudgingly. "But I carried him, remember." SAM WHATS THE MATTER WITH YOU Q Q I DONT LIKE THE EXPRESSION ON YOUR FACE LISTEN SAM YOU ARENT Vern said, "A hundred and fifty thousand, remember." THINKING OF SELLING "And of course we couldn't get out of here," Vern pointed out. "They've got us surrounded." ME TO THESE RATS Q Q SAM VERN PLEASE DONT SCARE ME * * * * * I said, pointing to the fluttering paper in the rattling machine: "You're worrying our friend." Vern shrugged impatiently. I KNEW I SHOULDNT HAVE TRUSTED YOU, Arthur wept. THATS ALL I MEAN TO YOU EH Vern said: "Well, Sam? Let's take the cash and get this thing over with. After all, he _will_ have the best of treatment." It was a little like selling your sister into white slavery, but what else was there to do? Besides, I kind of trusted Vern. "All right," I said. What Arthur said nearly scorched the paper. Vern helped pack Arthur up for moving. I mean it was just a matter of pulling the plugs out and making sure he had a fresh battery, but Vern wanted to supervise it himself. Because one of the little things Vern had up his sleeve was that he had found a spot for himself on the Major's payroll. He was now the official Prosthetic (Human) Maintenance Department Chief. The Major said to me: "Ah, Dunlap. What sort of experience have you had?" "Experience?" "In the Navy. Your friend Engdahl suggested you might want to join us here." "Oh. I see what you mean." I shook my head. "Nothing that would do you any good, I'm afraid. I was a yeoman." "Yeoman?"