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Updated: May 16, 2025
There is critical need for more repair workers and repair parts; this Jack delays the return of damaged fighting ships to their places in the fleet, and prevents ships now in the fighting line from getting needed overhauling. The pool of young men under 26 classified as I-A is almost depleted. Increased replacements for the armed forces will take men now deferred who are at work in war industry.
"The Rah&Rah boys couldn't make sense out of the records. No surprise. They called in an I-A crypt-analyst. He broke a complicated substitution cipher. When the stuff started making sense he pushed the panic button." "For something the Nathians wrote five hundred years ago?" Stetson's drooping eyelids lifted. There was a cold quality to his stare.
A sudden thought struck Orne. He said: "You spoke of trust. Has this conspiracy involved the I-A?" "We think so," said Stetson. "About a year ago, an R&R archeological team was nosing around some ruins on Dabih. The place was all but vitrified in the Rim War, but a whole bank of records from a Nathian outpost escaped." He glanced sidelong at Orne.
Yet, his first loyalty belonged to the I-A, to the peace it represented. He said rather lamely: "I hope you get over the feeling that I'm strange." "I'm over it already," she said. She linked arms with him, said: "If you feel up to it, I'll take you on the deluxe guided tour." By nightfall, Orne was in a state of confusion.
"All those gags in the I-A about old Upshook Ipscott Bullone ... and then I find that his wife went to school with my mother." "Have you met Himself?" "He brought his wife to the hospital a couple of times." Again, Stetson looked to the southwest, then back to Orne. A pensive look came over his face.
His burned, ungent-covered face looked made up for some bizarre show. Marak is the League capital, and the I-A medical center there is probably the best in the galaxy, but it accepted the creche pod and Orne more as a curiosity than anything else. The man had lost one eye, three fingers of his left hand and part of his hair, suffered a broken jaw and various internal injuries.
Five years of school and one R&R field assignment under his belt, and he had been drafted into the I-A for brilliant detection of militancy on Hammel. And two years later kaput! Abruptly, Stetson hurled the service record at the gray metal wall across from him; then he got up, brought the record back to his desk, smoothing the pages. There were tears in his eyes.
The day nurse was a tall, lean-faced professional who had learned to meet miracles and failures with equal lack of expression. However, this routine with the dying I-A operative had lulled her into a state of psychological unpreparedness. Any day now, poor guy, she thought. And she gasped as she opened his sole remaining eye, said: "Did they clobber those dames on Heleb?" "Yes, sir!" she blurted.
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