"It so happens that what concerns Atlantic Motors vitally concerns the government, Whiteford! We'd appreciate it if you could stretch that generosity of yours and give us five minutes of your undivided attention. After all, we did have an appointment!"
Whiteford turned off the intercom and leaned back in his swivel chair, his fingers tapping nervously on the chair arm.
"Sorry Maxwell, but keeping the organization running keeps me on the hump."
"Like it kept the slavers of the eighteenth century on the hump," Maxwell growled.
Whiteford's eyebrows shot up.
"Personnel Incorporated was founded on one of the most obvious needs of our civilization, Maxwell! With the expansion of production after the first atomic war, the demand for personnel, and increasing labor-management difficulties, it was obvious that dozens of little employment agencies and company employment divisions were only hampering manufacturing facilities. A single, centralized bureau was needed. Personnel Incorporated filled that need. From myself on down, everybody who's been handled by Personnel has been psychologically tested for their job—which means strikes and walkouts have been cut to a minimum.
"Modern civilization would be impossible without Personnel, Maxwell! But that's water over the dam." He nodded to Burger. "You have a personnel problem?"
"That's why I came here," Burger said testily. "As you may know, Mr. Whiteford, Atlantic Motors has constructed a rocket to make the first flight to the moon. We need a pilot for that rocket."
Whiteford looked bored. "All the Sunday supplements have carried articles about the A-M rocket. As for the pilot, there are thousands of men in this country alone who are probably qualified for the job. To find one would be routine, I should think."