"Well—"
"Go on and have a laugh, Wilson. This gizmo reminded me of the new machine that made shoes so fast that it put twelve shoemakers out of work—and it took only eighteen men to run it."
A silence ensued. Then Stone said:
"Well, Wilson, I thought you'd like to know we're pouring the best we've got into space for you. Ship should be along in another hour or two."
"Yeah—thanks, Admiral Stone. And the joke was funny, at least the first time I heard it, it was. I'll get on the cubes and wait for the ship."
Wearily Commodore Ted Wilson climbed out of his bunk and began to dress....
Viggon Sarri said, "Now we know more about this race. They definitely are of the class where the individual is of extreme importance to the whole. This belies both the communal, or insect type and the anarchistic, or individualistic type. The quantity of men and machinery they are pouring into this search is amazing."
"They aren't much closer to success," offered Regin Naylo. "And we're wasting time."
"You think so?"