THE COSMIC COMPUTER

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"Hello, Conn. We're having a time. Another two hundred tramps came in on
the /Countess/ this morning, and Ghu only knows how many in their own
vehicles, and they all seem to think if there's work for some there
ought to be work for all, and some of them are getting nasty."

"We can use some more out at the dig. The ones you sent out Thursday are
doing all right, once they found out we weren't taking any foolishness."

Fawzi turned away from the screen. "Well, Conn, we're in," he said. "The
charter was granted this morning; now we're Litchfield Exploration &
Salvage, Ltd. And Lester Dawes has found us a contragravity ship."

"How much will it cost us?"

Fawzi began to laugh. "Conn, this'll slay you! She isn't costing us a
centisol. You know those old ships on Mothball Row, back of the old West
End ship docks at Storisende?"