El. Get you clear out of here. Only don't give me a hard time. All you'll get is both of us flashed." "Yeah, I know." Stan held out an arm. "Come on, let's go." * * * * * Stan watched as the chief test engineer waved a hand. "Two hundred twenty gravs," the man said. "Full swing completed on both axes. That's it. Ease off your tractors." He looked closely at his panel of meters, then got off his stool and stretched. "No evidence of strain. Looks as though all components are good." He turned, looking at the test operators. "Let's get this place cleaned up." The sense of disorientation set up by the tractors was subsiding. Stan got to his feet and looked at his companion. Dachmann nodded at him. "Well," he said slowly, "Golzer can get off the hook now. His run'll be approved. Suppose we get back on the job." He led the way out of the blockhouse tunnel. A car was pulling up at the entrance. A heavy, square face looked from a rear window and a large hand beckoned. "Dachmann, Graham. Over here." "Oh, oh." Dachmann sighed. "Here's trouble. Wizow doesn't come out here unless he's got something." The blocky production chief looked coldly at them as they approached the car. "It'll be a lot better," he growled, "if you two clear through my office before you start wandering all over the grounds." He looked at Stan. "Got a problem for you. Maybe we'll get some action out of you on this one." He held out a few sheets of paper. "Hold up over in the components line." He jabbed at a sheet with a forefinger. "Take a trip over there and kick it up." He glanced at Dachmann. "Got another one for you." Stan took the papers, studying them. Then he looked up. There was very little question as to the bottleneck here. Each material shortage traced back to one machine. He frowned. "Maintenance people checked over that machine yet?" he asked. Wizow shrugged impassively. "You're a staffman," he said coldly. "Been on parole to us long enough, you should know what to do, so I'm not going to tell you how. Just get to the troub
