"Chafnu, I have something to tell you. And I don't know how you're going to take it."
"Please?" said Chafnu.
Huber got up and went to the table. There was a leather suitcase perched on top. He took it off and placed it on his desk; then he opened it. He reached over and took Diana's photograph from the blotter and put it inside.
"You've been doing a good job," the boss continued. "An excellent job, as a matter of fact."
"Properly thanking," said Chafnu.
"I don't want you to thank me. It's only logical, after all. Especially when we put nothing but Martians in your shop. We needed a Martian foreman then."
He went to the bookcase, lifted out two of the books, and dropped them into the suitcase.
"Now things have changed again, Chafnu. Changed drastically. And the Oxygen Corporation of America is going to need your help."
"Desirable of service," said Chafnu. "Very willing of it."
"I know you are. And that's why the Board of Directors have decided that you should take over the whole show." He clicked the suitcase shut with an air of finality.