He moved his head.
"Come on, friend, I'll buy you a mug of tea."
Sornal backed away.
"You ain't gonna--Look, ain't I seen you some place before? Look, Ijust--"
"I said I'd buy you a mug of tea. Then, we'll talk, and that's all. Imean it."
"I just got outta--Listen, I can't take it so good any more, see?"
"Don't worry. We aren't going to have any games this morning. Come on,let's go."
When Sornal started talking, the flow of words was almost continuous.
He had come to Kellonia almost four years before, on a standardone-year contract. For over twenty years, he'd moved around, workingin space-yards over the galaxy. He'd worked on short contracts,banking his profits on his home planet. And he'd planned to finallyreturn to his original home on Thorwald, use his considerable savingsto buy a small business, and settle down to semi-retirement.
But an offer of highly attractive rates had brought him to Kelloniafor one last contract with Janzel.
"They got my papers somewhere around here," he said, "only I can't get'em back any more." He shook his head wearily and went on.
Everything had gone smoothly for the first half of his contractperiod. He'd drawn impressively large checks and deposited them. Andafter thinking it over, he had indicated he would like an extension.
"That was when they nailed me down," he said. "There was just that onebad run, only that was the job that sneaked through the inspection andwent bust at Proof."
"Blowup?"
Sornal grinned sourly.
"Blowup, you want to know? Even took out one of the tractor supports.Real mess. Oh, you think they weren't mad about that!"
"You say there was just one bad run? Then everything came out normallyagain?"
"Yeah. I ran a check, see? Test sample was perfect Beautiful. So thenthe power went off for a while. Crew was working around. Well, theyfound the trouble and cleared it, just before lunch time. I went aheadand finished my run. It was only ten gyro assemblies--control job.
"I don't know--guess they were out of balance. Maybe the shaft alloyscame out wrong. Anyway, I finished the run and went for chow. Cameback and set up a new run."
He stared into his cup.
"Along about quitting time, they came after me. Mister, I don't liketo think of that! I been beat up a lot since, but them's just littlereminders. Those guys really enjoyed their work!"
Sornal shuddered and set his cup down. Finally, he sighed andcontinued.
He had left the hospital, muttering grim threats of the legal actionhe would take. And he'd limped over to file a complaint at theFederation Residency.
"I didn't get there. Next thing I knew, I was in some cell." He lookedup at Stan.
"Now I know where I see you. You're in that van, going out of somejail."
"Yeah." Stan nodded, looking at his own empty cup.
"Tell me something," he said slowly. "When that maintenance crew wasworking around your machine, did they have a gravito clamp!"
"Clamp? Yeah ... yeah, I suppose they might have. Use 'em a lot aroundhere when they've got heavy stuff, and those guys had a lot of stuffto move."
"I see. Wonder if the field head got pointed at your machine?"
"I don't think ... I dunno, I didn't watch 'em close." Sornal lookedsharply at Stan.
"You mean, they mighta--"
"Well, what could cause a temporary misflow?"
"Yeah!" Sornal bobbed his head slowly. "Funny I didn't think of that."
"So anyway, you went up to Opertal?"
"Yeah. Had me for evasion of obligation. Said I owed the companyplenty for the damage done by the blowup. Claimed I'd tried to runout.
"They wouldn't let me in the machine shop up there. Had me out haulingstuff for the landscape crew. Then, they paroled me back here. Back tothe machines again, only I ain't a contract man any more. Juniormachinist. Oh, it's better than helper, I guess, only they don't paymuch." Sornal pushed himself away from the table.
"I'm going to be real careful with my work from now on," he said."They got me for quite a while, but that sentence'll run out one ofthese days. I'll get me out of parole and pay off that claim, then I'mgetting out of here. They aren't hanging another one on me."
"Only one trouble," Stan told him. "You're getting so careful, you'resetting yourself up."
"Huh?"
"Yeah. 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 acontract man. Only one thing--if any crew comes around, pull a sampleafter they leave. And check it. You know how to check for magnetic andgravitic deviations. Do that, then go ahead with your run. Now go backto your machine. I'm going to do a little work."
He strode out of the refreshment room, watched Sornal as he took overthe production run, then swung around and walked over to the Personneloffice.
"Like to see the package on a man named Sornal," he told the clerk.
The man hesitated. "We aren't supposed to release a whole file. I canlook up any specific information for you."
Stan frowned. "Don't argue with me. I want to see this guy's package.Need his complete history. Now get it."
The clerk started to make an objection, then turned and went to thefiles. He flipped an index, then punched a combination of numbers onhis selector. Finally, he came back with a folder.
Stan took it and flopped it open on the counter.
"All right, now just stay here while I go through this. I'll give itback in a few minutes."
He looked through the records, looking closely at one exhibit.
"Wow!" he told himself silently.
"Eleven thousand, six hundred ninety-two interstells. Only way he'llever pay that off is by making a big dent in his savings."
He flipped the paper over, noting the details of the determination ofresponsibility.
As he examined the payroll data, he nodded. It all balanced outnicely. They'd get several years of production out of the man for baresubsistence.
"Very neat," he told himself.
He closed the folder and handed it back to the clerk.
"All right, that's all I need." He glanced at the clock.
"Guess I'll check out for lunch."
He walked out of the office. This one, he thought, could be brokenwide open by a Guard investigation. Sornal would get his freedom, andthere might be sizable damages.
"Now it would be nice," Stan muttered, "if I could work out somethingfor myself."
* * * * *
The Guard sergeant was an old-timer--and a methodical man. He listenedimpassively, then reached under his desk. For a few seconds, his handwas hidden, then he picked up a pen.
"Now, let's get this straight. What did you say your name was?"
"Graham. Stanley Graham. I--"
The sergeant had pulled a form to him. He bent over, writing slowly.
"Graham, Stanley. All right. Now, where do you live?"
One by one, he went through the maze of blanks, insisting on gettingno other information than that called for by the specific space he wasworking on. Finally, he put down the pen and leaned back.
"All right, now how about this other man you mention?" He pulledanother form to him.
Stan was becoming a trifle impatient. He answered the questions onSornal, managing to furnish information for most of the blank spaceson the sergeant's form.
The man dragged a still different form to him.
"All right, now what's this exact complaint?"
Stan went through Sornal's history, quoting figures and dates from thePersonnel files he had read. The sergeant listened noncommittally,stopping him frequently to get repetitions.
At last, he looked up.
"Got any documents to back up this story?"
Stan coughed impatiently.
"No, of course not. I can't pull a file out of Personnel and justcarry it up here. It's on file, though. I just got through read
ing theworking file and there's a private file on the guy, too, that wouldreally bust things wide open."
The sergeant smiled sourly.
"Maybe it would. I suppose they'd pull it right out and hand it over,too."
He spun his chair around and fished a book from a shelf behind hisdesk.
"Here." He put the book on the corner of the desk. "Here is theregulation on this sort of situation."
He pointed out words, one at a time.
It was a long regulation, filled with complex terminology. It forbadeseizure