"And we have neither the facilities nor the capacity to build it ourselves."
Crayley said slowly, "You mean the J-233 is obsolete? We scrap it without ever putting it in production?"
"That's right," said the major. He grinned. "You were just telling me how adaptable your production machinery is to—ah—re-tooling, I think you called it. I was glad to hear it."
Damn! Crayley thought. Damdamdamdamdamn!
His mind whirled for a moment, hopping frantically from one point to another. Then he forced it to be calm. Everything wasn't lost—just delayed.
"—in the strictest confidence," the major was saying. "Nothing must leak out. We don't want to throw a scare into the world population just now."
Klythe looked as though he had a good case of goosebumps himself.
Crayley felt nothing. He said, "How soon can you get the original down here?"
The major spread his hands. "I'm not prepared to say. You'll have to take that up with our technicians. Out of my field, you understand.
"I am also to ask you how soon you can get this into production. We'll need five thousand units."