hether or not this device is going to be of
any real use. But we do know that this man, Graham, has developed one
thing which can be profitably incorporated into conventional equipment.
That power source of his appears to be quite practical, and we'll adopt
it. Offer it to the man's employer, subject to community royalty. And
see if you can get Graham a little time off work in compensation. Then,
keep a close watch on his work on the rest of his device. He'll probably
use his time off to work on it--at least, he'll be a lot better off if
he does.

"I want frequent reports on his progress--daily reports, if any
significant developments occur. And I want a model of that device as
soon as it's developed and has had preliminary tests. If it works, it
might be valuable for community defense." He waved a hand.

"That's all."

Bond turned to go, and almost got to the door before Morely called him
back.

"Oh, one more thing, Bond. Keep a closer watch on the rest of your
people. If any more of them decide to do extra work of any unusual
nature, I shall expect an immediate report in full. Don't fail me again.
Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Bond saluted again and made his escape.

Morely watched him disappear, then turned to his communicator. "Get me
Field Leader Denton," he ordered.

The pause was slight, then the face of a middle-aged man appeared in the
viewsphere.

"Denton," said the district leader, "I want you to keep closer watch on
your sector men. Last night I spot-checked Bond, in Fourteen, and I
found an irregularity. I'll expect you to endorse the report back, and
I'll expect you to tighten down. Keep an especially close eye on this
man, Bond."

The field leader's eyebrows raised a little. "Bond, sir? He's one of--"

"Bond. Yes." His superior interrupted forcefully. "And tighten down on
all your men. You know how I feel about laxity."

He snapped the communicator off and gathered Bond's report together. For
a few seconds, he looked at the neat stack of paper, then he slipped a
paper clamp on it and punched his call button.

* * * * *

"There!" Paul Graham straightened from his hunched-over position at the
desk. He laid his soldering iron down and massaged the small of his
back, grimacing slightly.

"Oh, me! I'll swear my back'll never be the same again. But that ought
to do it, at last." He looked at the equipment before him and grinned
ruefully.

"Of all the haywire me