"In the face of adversity, you should spit." "Who are you quoting?" "Me." "Look, Swenson, I'm supposed to supervise labor relations, sure. Labor is something you hire. That's done by paying wages--on time." "At least you should have brains enough to understand the advantage of the egg." "What?" asked O'Toole blankly. "I've already explained it to you. Apparently it didn't get past your hair. I shall therefore make a second attempt. Do you understand the principle of the egg?" "I don't--" "Of course not. You never stopped to analyze it. You just assumed that because human beings are born the way they are, it is the best method. How much pain and trouble does a hen have laying an egg? Does she--" "Getting back to number 5," O'Toole said firmly, "what did Captain Verbold--" "Consider the advantage of the egg from another angle, O'Toole. Let's say your wife lays an egg and, at the moment, you don't have money enough to support another child. All you would have to do is put the egg in cold storage until your ship comes in. Then you can take the egg out and incubate it. Instead of being--" The click of the latch as O'Toole closed the door caused Swenson to spin in his chair. Tossing his pencil on the Dispatch Sheet, he put on his coat and went home. * * * * * When the dispatcher for Acme Interplanetary Express arrived at the office the following morning, a Special Message lay in sublime isolation on his desk. Swenson opened a beer and read the message. _Board of Directors_ _Acme Interplanetary Express_ _Gentlemen_: _Your restraining order concerning our ship at Luna City can only be considered as representing a warped and intolerable concept of justice. We will take every legal action available to us._ _Moreover, your action in refusing, without notice, a load which we were so kind as to offer you and your immoral dealings in contraband snuff force us to sever all commercial relations with your organization._ _We are taking appropriate action with the Planetary Commerce Commission._ _Yours sincerely_, _Moulton Trust_ _Lesquallan Ltd._ Swenson was smiling cherubically and bringing his Master Chart up to date when O'Toole came in. "Swenson, did you have eggs for breakfast? And how goes with the dispatch?" Carefully noting the last change of ship position on the Master Chart, Swenson turned to O'Toole. "Things are like so," he said, and drew a diagram. While O'Toole was studying the diagram, Swenson placed a call to Moulton Trust. "Give me Esrov. Yes, Esrov himself. This is Swenson, Acme Interplanetary. If Esrov doesn't want to talk to me, jets to him, but I think I have some information he can use." "Will you please hold on, Mr. Swenson? I will convey your message." Swenson looked at O'Toole for a moment in silence. "No, I don't like eggs for eating. My theory concerns another aspect--" "I know," said O'Toole resignedly.