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FOUNDER'S DAY 1 The girl said, "No." She shook her head, turned her ice-chip blue eyes back to the programming console that almost filled her work cubicle. "Have some sense, Gus." "We could live with my family for a while-" "You're already one over legal. And if you think I'd crowd in with that whole bunch-" "Only until I get my next step-increase!" Her fingers were already flickering over the keys. "See my side, Gus. Mel Fundy's offered me a five-year contract-with an option." "Contract!" "It's better than no marriage at all!" "Marriage! That's just a lousy business proposition!" "Not so lousy. I'm accepting. It'll mean a class B flat for just the two of us-and class B rations." "You-and that dried-up. . . ." Gus pictured her with Fundy's crab-claws touching her. "Better get back to your slot, Gus," she dismissed him. "You've still got a job to hold down." He turned away. A small, balding man with a large face and a curved back was coming along the two-foot aisle, darting sharp looks into the cubicles. His eyes turned hot when he saw Gus. "You're docked half a unit, Addison! If I find you out of your position again, there'll be charges!" "It won't happen again," Gus muttered. "Ever." * * * The shift-end buzzer went at 8 A.M. Gus pushed along the exit lane into car 98, stood packed in with the other workers while |
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