“Taking stuff apart and putting it back together and polishing jet bores with microplanes and putting plates in alignment and checking the meters when we’re through to see the job was done right. Then there’s class work in Direc calculus and subelectronics and—”
“That’s enough!” interrupted Blick. “And now that you’ve learned all that, what can you do with it?”
Kurt looked at him in surprise.
“Do with it?” he echoed. “You don’t do anything with it. You just learn it because regulations say you should.”
“And this,” said Blick, turning to Colonel Harris, “is one of your prize products. Fourteen of his best years poured down the drain and he doesn’t even know what for!” He paused and then said in an arrogant voice, “I’m here for a showdown, Harris!”
“Yes?” said the colonel mildly.
“I demand that the Tech Schools be closed at once, and the recruits released for work details. If you want to keep your command, you’ll issue that order. The staff is behind me on this!”
Colonel Harris rose slowly to his feet. Kurt waited for the thunder to roll, but strangely enough, it didn’t. It almost seemed to him that there was an expression of concealed amusement playing across the colonel’s face.
“Some day, just for once,” he said, “I wish somebody around here would do something that hasn’t been done before.”
“What do you mean by that?” demanded Blick.