ing now?"

"All right, except the pen skips a little sometimes and makes a messy
curve."

"Have to damp that arm better. When can I have her to work on?"

"Soon as I finish these Mugu problems."

Charley stared at him.

"Mugu. Guided-missile center. It's nice business if we can get it--the
digitals are all booked up months ahead, and the particular type of
problem they send us is right up our alley."

[Illustration]

"I thought you were kidding me, like that Boolean Algebra stuff."

"Wasn't kidding then, either."

"I'll stick to instrument-making, thanks. You math guys never have any
fun."

Norm shrugged, turned to the telephone, and called an extension.

"Hermosa." It was a rich, pleasant voice.

"Vic? How about the rest of the Mugu cards? Ready yet?"

"I'll send them up right away. Just finished them."

"Who was that?" Charley inquired.

"Vic Hermosa. Smart boy."

Charley smiled a little.

* * * * *

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Norm called. The door opened, and a small, neat girl
entered. Her long bob was dark and silky, but windblown. She tossed
her head and her hair settled into place, as if she had just brushed
it. She extended a pack of punched cards.

"Thank you," Norm said, gravely.

The girl looked up at him suddenly, and he stepped back a little. She
had surprising, deep-violet eyes, and their glance seemed to have a
tangible impact. She nodded grave acknowledgment and left.

"Damn it, I wish I could do that!" Norm complained.

"Make goo-goo eyes?"

"No. Shake my head so my hair would automatically be combed like hers.
I've been fighting this cowlick ever since I've been a kid--stocking
caps, gunk, the works. Still got it. And the part moves around and I
have to hunt for it."

"Know who she is?"

"Nope. Clerk, messenger, I guess. They're always hiring new ones."

"Doesn't she ever speak?"

"Of course she--come to think of it, I've never heard her. Must say
it's a relief after the usual yackety-yack. Haven't anything to talk
to her about, anyway. She's just a child."

"A pretty one, though."

"Yes, she is."

"You sure don't know anything about women. If anyone made eyes at me
that way, I'd do something about it."

"What, for instance?" Norm inquired dryly.

"Well, of course, I'm married. But I'd find out who she was, anyhow.
Sometimes I think you're dead and don't know it."

"Sometimes I agree with you," Norm said. He f