Minor Planets was the one solid account they had. At first they naturally wanted to hold on to it.
(What will happen to love in that far off Day after Tomorrow? David C. Knight, editor with a New York trade publisher, agrees with the many impressed by "the range of possible subjects and situations" in science fiction. The result is a unique love story from that same Tomorrow.)
sy catering to a party of VIPs to do anything about it. "We'll wait till he gets back from the asteroids," I said. "Suppose one of these big wheels found out about him and Elizabeth. That Senator Briggs for instance--he's a violent robot segregationist."
The way it worked out, we never got a chance to settle it our own way. The Minor Planets Company saved us the trouble.
Two company inspectors, a Mr. Roberts and a Mr. Wynn, showed up while Frank was still out on the rock belt and started asking questions. Wynn came right to the point; he wanted to know if any of their servo-pilots had been acting strangely.
Before I could answer Min kicked my foot behind the desk.
"Why, no," I said. "Is one of them broken or something?"
"Can't be sure," said Roberts. "Sometimes these rationaloids get shorts in their DX circuits. When it happens you've got a minor criminal on your hands."
"Usually manifests itself in petty theft," Wynn broke in. "They'll lift stuff like wrenches or pli