"Done what? Oh, you mean the new coloration process?"
"Yes. It will quintuple the net value of the family fortune within a year. We may be the richest people in the world then."
"That's nice," Hal said mildly.
His father flicked a finger across a sensitive spot on the front of the desk and relaxed as a perfect Formair attendant's chair sprang into existence to fit his gross, soft body.
"Yes indeed," he said with a mild sigh. "It's been a long, long time that we've been working for that. Worked mighty hard, too."
"That's right," murmured Hal, a little more forcefully than necessary. "Splendid."
His father's eyebrows rose at the unusual emphasis, but he was much too cultured to question the point. He continued along the lines of the conversation already started. "We'll have to do something for Bruchner. He has been of tremendous assistance on that project. Did it practically all by himself. He is a very intelligent man, even if he is an Outlander."
"Bruchner," said Hal with mild irritation. "All I hear around here lately is Bruchner. What is he, anyway? Nothing but a savage."
"Eh?" said his father softly, raising his eyebrows again in polite inquiry.
"If Bruchner is such a brilliant fellow, why doesn't he take the Treatment and become civilized? I sometimes get a little tired of an employee who tells me I'm wrong all the time."