New Technological Idea Part 1

Ernest Teucher crossed the threshold of the executive offices at twelve minutes before eight in the morning.

By ten minutes before eight, every clerk, draftsman, and ledger-keeper on the third floor was acutely aware of his presence.

No formal memorandum had been circulated. No bell had been rung from the executive dais. The intelligence traveled solely because Arthur Pendelton had strolled into the central administrative hall, surveyed Ernest through the plate-glass partition, and announced to thirty-two startled scribes: "The honeymoon has officially concluded. Prepare the casualty lists."

Ernest slowly lifted his gaze from the first dispatch on his blotter.

Arthur stood on the parquet outside, wearing an expression of unrepentant, predatory delight. Ernest pointed a flat, unambiguous index finger toward the corridor.

Arthur ignored the gesture and pushed through the mahogany door. "Good morning, Chairman."

"Good morning, Arthur."