Gallegher gulped.
Smeith nodded at him encouragingly. “You did my job for me, you know. I can begin construction—and excavation—tomorrow. Without bothering to get a trucking permit, either.”
Hopper’s teeth showed. “The devil with the money! I’m going to teach this man a lesson! My time is worth plenty, and he’s completely upset my schedule. Options, scouts—I’ve gone ahead on the assumption that he could do what I paid him for, and now he blandly thinks he can wiggle out. Well, Mr. Gallegher, you can’t. You failed to observe that summons you were handed today, which makes you legally liable to certain penalties—and you’re going to suffer them, Dammit!”
Smeith looked around. “But—I’ll stand good for Mr. Gallegher. I’ll reimburse—”
“No!” Hopper snapped.
“The man says no,” Gallegher murmured. “It’s just my heart’s blood he wants. Malevolent little devil, isn’t he?”
“You drunken idiot!” Hopper snarled. “Take him to the jail, officers. Now!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Gallegher,” Smeith encouraged. “I’ll have you out in no time. I can pull a few wires myself.”
Gallegher’s jaw dropped. He breathed hoarsely, in an asthmatic fashion, as he stared at Smeith, who drew back.
“Wires,” Gallegher whispered. “And a… a stereoscopic screen that can be viewed from any angle. You said—wires!”