When they got to headquarters the airman asked, "Tell the truth, now; didn't you really come after this job?"
Ollie wouldn't admit he'd lied about it, so he lied again.
"I've seen some of the other guys come in after it," the airman insisted, "and you look as good as any of them. Why not try for it, now you're here?"
He gave Ollie a long application to fill out and left him at a desk just outside the personnel office.
From somewhere came the clatter of a facsimile-printer, carrying the day's message from GHQ. A boy whistled above the squawk of a superwave radio. But otherwise the place seemed deserted at that early-morning hour.
For lack of anything better to do, Ollie filled out the application, leaving the job title blank. The only thing that gave him pause, aside from the difficulty of seeing, was his arrest record, and in time he decided to put it down just as it was, including the pending assault charge with its implication of jumped bail.
After an hour a young captain entered the building and went to the office marked Adjutant. A fat major gave Ollie a piercing glance and then entered the Civilian Personnel office. At about five minutes of eight the place suddenly boiled with military and civilian people of all ages and both sexes.
Things quieted promptly at eight. A blond youth came out of the office, glanced at Ollie's application form, kept it, and invited him inside.
"First thing for you," he said, "will be a physical exam."
He took Ollie to another room and turned him over to a young medic who put him in a box like a steam cabinet, attached electrodes to his temples, wrists, ankles, and chest, and put a helmet on his head.