nd, doing nothing but watch their screens and keep
their few, piddling records. They did nothing productive, but they had
to be retained. Actually, he had to admit, they were a necessity under
present conditions. War was always a possibility and the enemy was
building up his potential. He might strike at any time, and he'd
certainly not send advance notification. If he did strike, the warning
teams would perform their brief mission, alerting the active, working
members of the defense groups. Then, they would be available for
defense. And the defense coordinators required warning teams and
equipment in prescribed districts. His was one of these.

He grumbled to himself. Even the number of operators and their
organization were prescribed. This was a section, right within his own
district, where he had little authority. And it was irritating. Drones,
that's what they were.

He continued to the Fixed Communications office. Here, at least, he had
authority.

He walked through the door, casting a quick glance at the office as he
entered. The section chief got up from his chair, and came forward.
Morely felt a little glow of satisfaction as he detected the now
familiar aura of uneasiness. Again, he wished this device he wore were
more effective. He would like to know the details of this man's
thoughts.

* * * * *

"Good morning, sir." The Fixed Communication chief saluted.

Morely returned the salute perfunctorily, then examined the man
critically.

"Morning," he acknowledged. "Kirk, I want you to get some new uniforms.
You look like a rag bag."

A little anger was added to the uneasiness. Kirk looked down at his
clothing. It wasn't new, but there was actually little wrong, other than
the slight smudge on a trouser leg, and a few, small spots of dullness
on his highly polished boots.

"I've been inspecting some cable vaults, sir," he explained. "We had a
little trouble, due to ground seepage."

"It makes no difference," the district leader snorted, "what you've been
doing. A man in your position should be properly attired at all times."
He paused, looking Kirk over minutely. "If your cable vaults are in
such bad condition, get them cleaned up. When I look your installations
over, I shall expect them to be clean. Clean, and in order."

He looked beyond Kirk. "And get that desk cleared. A competent man works
on one thing at a time and keeps his work in order. A place for
everything,