"Otherwise, we wouldn't have a lawyer on the premises. They serve their
purpose, no doubt, but in this gang, the engineers tell the attorneys
how to run things. We shall continue to do so. Therefore you are
speaking with the proper parties, and once the contract is prepared by
you, we shall have an attorney run through the whereases, wherefores,
and parties of the first, second, and third parts to see that there is
no sleight of hand in the microscopic type."
"You're taking a chance," warned Kingman. "All men are not as
fundamentally honest as Terran Electric."
"Kingman," smiled Channing, "I hate to remind you of this, but who got
what just now? We wanted the transmission tube."
"I see your point. But we have a means of getting power out of the sun."
"We have a hunk of that, too. It would probably have been a mere matter
of time before some bright bird at Terran found the thing as it was."
"I shall see that the contract gives you domain over man-made objects
in space--including those that occasionally touch upon the natural
celestial objects. Also the necessary equipment operating under the
charter of Venus Equilateral, wherever or whenever it may be, including
any future installations."
"Fine."
"You may have trouble understanding our feelings. We are essentially a
space-born company, and as such we can have no one at the helm who is
not equipped to handle the technical details of operations in space."
Channing smiled reminiscently. "We had a so-called efficiency expert
running Venus Equilateral a couple of years ago, and the fool nearly
wrecked us because he didn't know that the airplant was not a mass of
highly complicated, chemical reaction machinery instead of what it
really is. Kingman, do you know what an airplant is?"
"Frankly, no, I should imagine it is some sort of air-purifying device."
"You'll sit down hard when I tell you that the airplant is just what it
is. Martian saw grass! Brother Burbank tossed it out because he thought
it was just weeds, cluttering up the place. He was allergic to good
engineering, anyway."
"That may be good enough in space," said Kingman, "but on Terra, we
feel that our engineers are not equipped to dabble in the legal tangles
that follow when they force us to establish precedent by inventing
something that has never been covered by a previous decision."
"O.K.," said Don. "Every man to his own scope. Write up your contract,
Kingman, and we'll all climb on the band wagon with our illiterary X's."
* * * * *
In Evanston, north of Chicago, the leaves changed from their riotous
green to a somber brown, and fell to lay a blanket over the earth. Snow
covered the dead leaves, and Christmas, with its holly, went into the
past, followed closely by New Year's Eve with its hangover.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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