Malone discovered that it was his turn to sigh. “Is it the fastest?” he said.
Fred nodded.
“Then it’s the best,” Malone said. “How long?”
Fred rolled his eyes to the ceiling and calculated silently for a second. “Tomorrow morning,” he announced, returning his gaze to Malone.
“Fine,” Malone said. “Fine.”
“But—”
“Never mind the buts,” Malone said hurriedly. “I’ll count on hearing from you tomorrow morning.”
“All right.”
“And if it looks like sabotage,” Malone added, “if the errors aren’t caused by normal wear and tear on the machines, you let me know right away. Phone me. Don’t waste an instant.”
“I’ll—I’ll start right away,” Fred said heavily. He looked sadly at the mechanism he had been working on, and put his screwdriver down next to it. It looked to Malone as if he were putting flowers on the grave of a dear departed. “I’ll get a team together,” Fred added. He gave the mechanism and screwdriver one last fond parting look, and tore himself away.