"Now, no matter how much they fake, you can't rebuild all those buildings in a couple hours," the operator argued.
"None of our business," the supervisor cautioned. "We just take the reports. Can't criticize us for whatever the E.H.Q. ship out there's doing."
"And everybody's got their clothes back on," the operator said loudly.
There was a sigh of regret up and down the aisle.
"Now the E's disappeared again," the operator said, "They're scanning all over, trying to find him."
The supervisor put down his headset with resolution.
"I'm going to my office to make a report on the sloppy way this reporting has been done. There's going to be fur flying over these skips and jumps, and I don't want it to be our fur. Best thing is to make the complaint first," he said to the room at large. "Now you call me if there's any more of this bollix," he said to the operator as he left.
An hour passed while the supervisor sat in his office. He wrote furiously, scratched out, wrote some more, tore up papers and threw them in the vague direction of the wastebasket, started afresh to write some more. How to report without stepping on anybody's toes?
His buzzer sounded softly to give him respite, and he looked up from a virtually blank piece of paper to the board. The Eden operator again.
"Oh, no," he groaned. But he left his desk at once and half trotted up the aisle.