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Updated: June 14, 2025
There were a series of complex schematics, and several machine drawings which he shuffled to the back of his report. Those could be interpreted later, if necessary. He was interested in the description of function. The device Graham was working on was described as a communicator which operated by direct mind-to-mind transfer. Morely sat up straighter, reading the paragraph over again.
The directory and billing are my respons " Morely waved a hand, then tapped himself on the chest with a long forefinger. "The entire operation of this headquarters is my responsibility, Kirk," he said positively, "and mine alone. And I mean to take care of it. You're responsible to me that Fixed Communications are kept in order, and I don't mean to relieve you of a bit of that responsibility.
"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 the conference room. As he entered, there was a rustle of motion. The section chiefs and field leaders stood at attention around the table, waiting. At each place at the table was a blank notepad.
After noting the slight fatigue the device seemed to cause in this application, and the vagueness of the device's operation, Morely had disregarded the claim. But junior executives could put up with a little fatigue and inconvenience. And he could see that they did. It might even cut down the time they were always wasting, talking with one another. He rubbed his chin with one hand.
We'll see how it works out, and the rest of the district leaders can follow your example." He looked sharply at Morely. "Heard a little disturbance in the hall just before you came in." "Oh, that." Morely contrived a look of confusion. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean anyone to hear that. It was just that I had a minor bit of business with Leader Harwood.
Morely felt a little glow of satisfaction as he detected the now familiar aura of uneasiness. Again, he wished this device he wore were more effective. He would like to know the details of this man's thoughts. "Good morning, sir." The Fixed Communication chief saluted. Morely returned the salute perfunctorily, then examined the man critically. "Morning," he acknowledged.
He had written to him how "the Lord had most surely given him this brand to pluck from the burning, this poor soul to save from the roaring lion that goeth about seeking whom he may devour;" and, reading it, his friend never doubted that Stephen's words were the words of Stephen's Master; and from the moment that Morely stood before him, pale and weary, and shivering with the cold, he looked upon himself as indeed his brother's keeper.
"The old ... wouldn't understand if he did." DeVore grinned. "See what you mean. Well, guess I'm the next victim." He stepped to the door and tapped. "Come in." Morely looked up as his Fiscal Chief entered, then swept some papers aside. "Well, what do you want?" DeVore held out the letter. "You wanted to see me, sir, about this."
None knew better than she how much help was needed; for thirty of the threescore years she had lived had been made anxious, and many of them wretched, by the same enslaving power that had its grasp on Morely.
If Central Coördinating wants to put the device on a national basis, we can't do anything about it." Morely looked down at the letter, then glared searchingly at DeVore. "The way I read this," he declared, "they want to distribute manufacturing rights on the communicator to plants in other regions than this. Right?" "Yes, sir."
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