It was a little like selling your sister into white slavery, but what else was there to do? Besides, I kind of trusted Vern.
“All right,” I said.
What Arthur said nearly scorched the paper.
Vern helped pack Arthur up for moving. I mean it was just a matter of pulling the plugs out and making sure he had a fresh battery, but Vern wanted to supervise it himself. Because one of the little things Vern had up his sleeve was that he had found a spot for himself on the Major’s payroll. He was now the official Prosthetic (Human) Maintenance Department Chief.
The Major said to me: “Ah, Dunlap. What sort of experience have you had?”
“Experience?”
“In the Navy. Your friend Engdahl suggested you might want to join us here.”
“Oh. I see what you mean.” I shook my head. “Nothing that would do you any good, I’m afraid. I was a yeoman.”
“Yeoman?”
“Like a company clerk,” I explained. “I mean I kept records and cut orders and made out reports and all like that.”