"Well, that won't happen here," Tom said. "We'll be hiring them ourselves, and we'll probably be able to pick up all we want from the other assembly clans. Times are rough all over, and they're not too loaded with work, either. Of course, the rest of the plant is another matter; but I don't think there'll be any open trouble. Things have gotten a little better since those early days. People know a little more about the clans, even if they don't approve."
"So there is just the question of whether we want to do it, or not," she said. He nodded but said nothing. "And you would much rather we didn't want to.... Tell me, what's she like? I've only seen her the couple of times that Ricky's brought her to lunch."
"That's about all I have," Tom answered. "Oh, I've seen her out at her old man's place a couple of times, too, but then I was working on the old man. As far as I know, she is what she seems to be. Beautiful in a way. A bit of a mantrap. Probably spoiled. I don't know. What did you think of her?"
"That's a damning sketch if I ever heard one," Sandy said. "I wonder if that's all there is to her. Is she just a spoiled brat with a well-developed body? Is that all she is? What's her background like? I mean aside from money?"
"Background?" Tom hesitated. "Well, she went through college, somewheres or other. She's traveled in Europe a bit Generally circulated around. Cultured, I guess you'd call it.
"Certainly her old man knows what it's about. He's quite a character, you know. Very dignified, very polished. Fine oak paneling in his study. Lots of books, and he's probably read them, too. Quite a collection of classical music, and he knows his way around it too—at least he knows more about it than I do. The very picture of a cultured gentleman. And it is with a perfectly gentlemanly manner that he tears you apart into little pieces."
"Oh?" Sandy raised her eyebrow. "What happened?"
Tom smiled ruefully; "We had an argument." He shrugged. "The clans versus Free-Trading. He has a fine and delicate hand with sarcasm. No, I take that back. I don't know whether it was sarcasm or not; maybe he was just leading me out. Anyway, I came out of there feeling as if I'd been wrung dry."
He was silent a moment, and Sandy made no move to break his thoughts. "The logical question here, of course, is to what extent this makes me think the way I do. And maybe it does, I don't know. I'm afraid of the guy; I got the feeling he knows exactly what he's doing and why. And I think he may be too strong for us."
"You think we might end up as his puppets?" Sandy said, her voice neutral.