THE GOD ON THE 36th FLOOR
By HERBERT D. KASTLE
Illustrated by FINLAY
Mercy Adrians was 19, and good to look at.
Edwin Tzadi was of undetermined age and not
good to look at. Derrence Cale was a phoney.
But at least, he thought, he was a man.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Amazing Stories December 1963.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Derrence Cale walked into the glittering tile, marble and metal lobby of the Chester Chemical Company Building at a quarter to nine. Office hours were nine-fifteen to five-fifteen, but Derrence came early and left late every day. He unlocked the doors to the Public Relations department, checked to see that the custodial staff hadn't left any rags or buckets around and, in general, fulfilled the duties of floor manager.
Not that Derrence had been assigned these duties. He'd assumed them over the past eight years, and because Chester Chemical was as big as it was, he got away with it. Derrence had effectively hidden himself among the 9,000 Chester employees; lost himself, as so many talentless but shrewd people do, in the hive of offices that make up a giant corporation. That was why he was able to draw a salary, and merely play at working.