“It might work,” admitted Colonel Harris, “but I was under the impression that those rigs were so heavy that a man couldn’t even walk in one, let alone fly.”
Blick grinned triumphantly. “Not if the suit was powered. If a man were to go up into the tower of the arsenal and pick the lock of the little door labled ‘Danger! Absolutely No Admittance,’ he might find a whole stack of shiny little cubes that look suspiciously like the illustrations of power packs in the tech manuals.”
“That he might,” agreed the colonel.
Blick shifted back in his chair. “Aren’t worried, are you?”
Colonel Harris shook his head. “I was for a moment when I thought you’d told the rest of the staff, but I’m not now.”
“You should be! When the I.G. arrives this time, I’m going to be inside that suit. There’s going to be a new order around here, and he’s just what I need to put the stamp of approval on it. When the Inspector General talks, nobody questions!”
He looked at Harris expectantly, waiting for a look of consternation to sweep across his face. The colonel just laughed.
“Blick,” he said, “you’re in for a big surprise!”
“What do you mean?” said the other suspiciously.
“Simply that I know you better than you know yourself. You wouldn’t be executive officer if I didn’t. You know, Blick, I’ve got a hunch that the battalion is going to change the man more than the man is going to change the battalion. And now if you’ll excuse me—” He started toward the door. Blick moved to intercept him.