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Final Weapon

Page 9

by Everett B. Cole

he acknowledged. "Kirk, I want you to get some new uniforms.You look like a rag bag."

  A little anger was added to the uneasiness. Kirk looked down at hisclothing. It wasn't new, but there was actually little wrong, other thanthe slight smudge on a trouser leg, and a few, small spots of dullnesson his highly polished boots.

  "I've been inspecting some cable vaults, sir," he explained. "We had alittle trouble, due to ground seepage."

  "It makes no difference," the district leader snorted, "what you've beendoing. A man in your position should be properly attired at all times."He paused, looking Kirk over minutely. "If your cable vaults are insuch bad condition, get them cleaned up. When I look your installationsover, I shall expect them to be clean. Clean, and in order."

  He looked beyond Kirk. "And get that desk cleared. A competent man workson one thing at a time and keeps his work in order. A place foreverything, and everything in its place, you know. You don't need allthat clutter. Is the rest of your office as disorderly as this?"

  He looked disparagingly about the small room, then turned toward thedoor to the main communications office. Kirk moved to open the door.

  At one side of the large office was a battery of file cabinets. Fourdesks were arranged conveniently to them. Morely looked at thisarrangement.

  "What's this?"

  "Billing and Directory, sir. These are the master files of all fixedcommunication subscribers. From them, we make up the semiannualdirectory, its corrective supplements, and the monthly bills."

  Morely frowned at the desks and files, then looked at the clerks, whowere bent over their desks. As one of the girls straightenedmomentarily, he recognized her. He'd seen her earlier, in the snack bar.He looked more closely at her desk. She had reason, he thought for thatradiation of uncertain fear he could sense.

  "What's in those files?" he demanded.

  "It's a complete index to all subscribers, sir." Kirk looked a littlesurprised. Morely recognized that the man thought the question a littlefoolish. He cleared his throat growlingly.

  "Let's see one of those cards."

  Kirk walked to the file, pulled a small envelope at random, and held itout. The district leader examined it.

  "Hah!" he snorted. "I thought so. Duplication of effort. This hasnothing on it that isn't in my quarters and locator files."

  "There's billing information on the back, sir," Kirk, pointed out. "Andcurrent charge slips are kept in the envelope. We use these to preparethe subscriber bills, as well as to maintain the directory service. It'sa convenience file, to speed up our work."

  Morely turned the envelope over in his hands. "Oh, yes." He opened theenvelope, to look at the slips inside. "How do you get the informationfor these?"

  "The charge slips come from Long Lines, sir." Kirk paused. "We getbilling information for basic billing from the counters in the dialmachine. The other information comes from installation reports and fromthe quarters file section and the locator files."

  * * * * *

  Morely handed the envelope back.

  "I can see, Kirk," he said, "that you've built up a whole subsection ofunnecessary people here." He stepped over to the file cabinets, examinedtheir indices, then pulled a drawer open. He pulled his notebook out,consulted its entries, and searched out an envelope. For a moment, hecompared it with the notebook. Then, he turned, holding out theenvelope.

  "And you don't even keep your information current," he accused. "Thisman was transferred yesterday afternoon, to another sector. You stillshow him at his old quarters, with his old communicator code."

  "We haven't that information from Files yet, sir," protested Kirk. "Theysend us a consolidated list of changes daily, but it generally doesn'tcome in till thirteen hundred."

  Morely dropped the envelope on one of the desks.

  "Quarters Files can handle this entire operation," he declared, "with alittle help from Fiscal. And they can handle it far better than yourpeople here." He stopped for a moment, thinking, then continued."Certainly," he decided, "Fiscal can take care of your billing. Theyhandle the funds anyway, in the final analysis. And you can coordinateyour directory work with the chief clerk at Files. You've got excesspeople here, Kirk. We don't need any of them."

  He looked at the desks and felt a wave of consternation. Kirk spread hishands.

  "But we have the information we need close at hand, sir. Our directoryhas been coming out on time, and in accurate condition. And our billingis well organized. The directory and billing are my respons--"

  Morely waved a hand, then tapped himself on the chest with a longforefinger. "The entire operation of this headquarters is myresponsibility, Kirk," he said positively, "and mine alone. And I meanto take care of it. You're responsible to me that Fixed Communicationsare kept in order, and I don't mean to relieve you of a bit of thatresponsibility. But I won't have you making jobs and wasting funds onexcess personnel." He snorted. "Convenience files are all right. Butthey're meant to save work, not make it."

  Kirk shook his head. "A decentralization will make it difficult," hebegan.

  Again, Morely cut him off. "Don't start telling me why you can't dosomething," he snapped. "Work out a way you _can_ do it. Make up plansfor transferring this filing function to Quarters Files, and work up aplan for transferring your billing to Fiscal. That's their business, andthey know how to handle it. Submit your study to me this afternoon." Helooked around the office again.

  "The people in Files and Fiscal can handle this workload without addinga single person. And they will. You're using four clerks to swing it.Kirk, I want this organization to run efficiently, and excess personneldon't lead to economic operation." He stared at the section chief.

  "Give these four people their notices today, and I'll expect somesuggestions from you as to further streamlining of your section withinthe next two days. And be sure they're sound suggestions, which resultin personnel savings. Otherwise, I'll be looking for a new section chiefup here."

  For a few seconds, he stood, enjoying the waves of consternation andfutile anger which beat about him. Almost, he could pick up some of thedespairing thoughts in detail. The clerks, of course, were second-classcitizens. And without employment, they'd soon lose their luxuryprivileges. Unless they were fortunate enough to find other employmentvery soon, they'd have to move to subsistence quarters, and learn to dowithout all but the most meagre of food, clothing, and shelter. Whenthey did get employment again, they'd appreciate it. He lookedmajestically around the office once more, then turned and strode away.

  He went through the corridor to the elevator, and stepped in, smilingcontentedly. The morning hadn't been entirely wasted.

  As he got out of the elevator on executive level, he glanced at hiswatch. It wasn't quite time for lunch, but there would be little pointin spending the few remaining minutes in his office. He walked slowlytoward the executive cafeteria.

  * * * * *

  After lunch, he returned to his office. A few matters awaited hisexamination and decision, and he busied himself for a short time,disposing of them. He paused over the last.

  It was a request from Kirk for more cable construction. Thejustification showed figures which indicated an increase in executivetype communications during the past few months. This, coupled with newquarters construction, necessitated additions to the cable trunks fromthe main exchange. There was added a short survey of necessary repair toexisting cable facilities.

  Morely leaned back. If he approved the request, he would be helping Kirkincrease his section. On the other hand, if he disapproved it, and thecommunicator lines became congested, he might find himself open tocriticism later. Some of his satisfaction evaporated. He looked sourlyat the paper.

  Suddenly, he thought of Bond's new project. The man had claimed thisdevice could serve as a communication means between its wearers, and haddemonstrated that his claim had some truth. After noting the slightfatigue the device seemed to cause in this application, and thevagueness of t
he device's operation, Morely had disregarded the claim.But junior executives could put up with a little fatigue andinconvenience. And he could see that they did. It might even cut downthe time they were always wasting, talking with one another. He rubbedhis chin with one hand.

  "Well," he told himself, "let's see how it works."

  From the way Bond had acted in his office, the sector leader might bestill wearing his headband. In fact, he probably was. Morelyconcentrated on the man, then concentrated on a single, peremptorythought.

  "_Bond! Can you receive me?_"

  The answer was prompt. "_Yes, sir. You wanted me?_"

  "_Of course, Idiot. Why do you think I called? Do you really believethese things would be suitable for routine communication? Could theysupplement our normal system?_"

  "_Certainly, sir. They should be very effective._"

  "_Have you offered them to Consolidated yet?_"

  "_Yes, sir. They've accepted them. They're beginning to tool up forproduction._"

  Morely winced. He had given the order, to be sure--and before creditablewitnesses. Bond had been right in taking immediate action, and his speedwould have been commendable in most cases. But this time, Morelyregretted his subordinate's efficiency. It was possible the devicesmight have a practical use after all. Possibly he had been hasty inreleasing them to the open market. He shrugged away his thoughts. Afterall, an administrator had to make quick decisions. He returned to hisunusual conversation.

  "_Set up a line in research and make up sufficient of thosecommunicators to outfit the executive personnel of this district._"

  "_Yes, sir._"

  "_And give me delivery as soon as you possibly can. How soon will thatbe?_"

  "_We can do it in five days, sir._"

  "_Make it three. That's all._"

  Morely took off his headband. It wasn't as good as a communicatorsphere, but it would be good enough. He looked at the request fromCommunications. Possibly, he would be able to cut Kirk down still more.He scrawled a "disapproved" on the sheet and initialed it. He started totoss the sheet to the corner of his desk, then hesitated.

  Drawing the request back to him, he added: "Two subjects on samerequest. Resubmit as separate requests." He tossed the sheet to the deskcorner, for the clerk to pick up. Let Kirk make up new requests, thenworry about why his new construction request was still disapproved. Hecould always be advised to resubmit later, if the headbands didn't workout.

  * * * * *

  Miles away, Bond turned to an engineer.

  "Tool up and start producing these communicators as fast as you can make'em, Morris. I'll tell you when to stop. The Old Man just ordered abatch of 'em, and this is one order I want to comply with, and fast!"

  He walked toward the small production office. Let's see, he had toproduce enough for all the exec personnel in the district. Have to startfinding out just how many of those guys there were.

  "Make delivery as soon as possible, huh? Cut my estimate by two days?I'll have 'em out over night, if I have to start driving people to doit."

  * * * * *

  Morely looked up as the communicator beeped. He reached to the controlpanel and touched the switch. The face of his deputy appeared in thesphere.

  "The section chiefs and field leaders are in the conference room, sir."

  "Very good." Morely pushed back his chair. "I'll be right in."

  He stepped through the door and crossed the outer office to theconference room. As he entered, there was a rustle of motion. Thesection chiefs and field leaders stood at attention around the table,waiting. At each place at the table was a blank notepad. The districtleader went immediately to the head of the table and sat down.

  "Gentlemen," he began, "I'll make this short. I've called you in to tryout a new device which I intend to use to help solve the ever-presentproblem of communication." He looked toward Ward Kirk, who had glancedup in surprise.

  "From time to time," he continued, "requests for more and morecommunicator lines have been coming in to my office. Since no one elseseemed to be able to do anything about it, I decided it was time for meto step in. After all, we can't expand our cables indefinitely. Wehaven't unlimited funds at our disposal and there are other projectsdemanding attention. Important projects.

  "A new electronic development has come to my attention, and it promisesto relieve the load on our communicators. Each of you will be issued oneof these devices, which I believe are called 'mental communicators,' orsomething of the sort. And you will draw sufficient of them to outfitthose of your people who have occasion to use communication to any largedegree. You will use them for all routine communications." He nodded tohis deputy, who stepped to the door and beckoned.

  Two men came in, carrying cartons, which they distributed around theroom. Morely waited until one of the cartons was in the hands of each ofthe men before him, then he reached up to touch the headband he waswearing.

  "This is the device I'm speaking of," he said. "Each of you will wearone of these at all times while you are on duty. You will find, after alittle practice, that you will be able to call any associate who issimilarly equipped. And you will use them in place of the conventionalcommunications whenever possible." He cleared his throat raspingly.

  "Sufficient of these devices have been produced to outfit all the keypeople of this district. I shall leave it to you to distribute them toyour subordinates, and to instruct those subordinates in their use. AndI shall expect the load on our communicator cables to be appreciablydiminished." He looked to one side of the room.

  "Bond."

  "Yes, sir."

  "You will instruct those present in the use of this new communicator."Morely rose and left the room.

  * * * * *

  As the district leader disappeared through the door, Harold Bond walkedto the front of the room. In his hands, he held one of the headbands anda power pack.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "this is a form of communicator. I don't pretendto understand precisely how it operates, though I watched itsdevelopment and set up a production line for it. All I know is that itworks. And I know how to use it--to some extent.

  "The district leader remarked that one could learn to use it with alittle practice, and he's right. Basically, anyone can use it as soon ashe puts it on for the first time. But it's like so many other tools. Themore you use it, the more proficient you get with it. And I suspect ithas capabilities I haven't found yet." He shrugged.

  "Operation is simple in the extreme. Since the first model, refinementshave been added, and it's unnecessary now for an operator to make anyadjustments, other than intensity."

  He picked up the power pack.

  "This is the power pack, which is plugged into the headband, thus." Hepaused as he connected the two plugs.

  "If you gentlemen will perform the operations as I do, this will takeonly a short time."

  There was a crackling in the room as cartons were opened. Power packsand headbands rattled against the table for a moment, then Bondcontinued.

  "Having plugged in the power pack, you turn this small knob veryslightly in a clockwise direction, then place the headband on your head.The knob is the switch and intensity control, and it's quite sensitive.Most people need very little intensity. If you have difficulty withcommunication, raise the intensity a little at a time, till thoughtscome through clearly." He paused, as the men before him adjusted theheadbands to their heads.

  "The power pack," he continued, "may be placed in a pocket." He reacheddown. "Personally, I carry mine in my shirt, since I find thatconvenient."

  He looked around the room. Men were turning to stare at their neighbors.Bond could detect a current of uncertainty, then a sensation of pleasedsurprise. Snatches of thought drifted to him. He ignored them for themoment. Time enough to become acquainted with people later. He placed ahand over his mouth, so everyone could see he was not speaking.

  "_Can everyone receive me?_"
/>   There was a wave of affirmation, and Bond nodded.

  "_Simple, isn't it? Are there any questions?_"

  A jumble of thoughts made him waver. Most of them could have beenphrased, "How does this thing work? What does it do? Am I dreaming?"Bond smiled in real amusement. He held up a hand.

  "_I felt the same way_," he thought reassuringly. "_Sometimes. I stilldo. All I can tell you is what you've already found out for yourselves.It works. I'm told it's a sort of telepathic amplifier and radiator. Butas I told you, I don't understand its principles. As to practice? I'mstill meeting interesting people. So will you._" He took off theheadband.

  "_If anyone has any further questions on operation, I'll try to answerthem_," he thought quickly. He glanced around the room. Three men werelooking at him blankly. He took careful note of them, and mentally shookhands with himself. They were the ones he'd thought would blank out. Hespoke aloud.

  "I'm sorry, gentlemen," he apologized. "I forgot I might be out ofcommunication. I'm not completely used to this mentacom, myself." Helooked toward the deputy leader.

  "Do you have anything to add, sir?"

  The deputy shook his

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