Page 135 - Just Deserts
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        government gave us quite a helping hand, placing the resources of its
        not inconsiderable investigative bodies at our disposal. As a matter of
        fact, you have had it fairly easy. No, no, don’t object, Forrest; I am
        merely  bringing  your  attention  to  a  new  set  of  circumstances.  The
        country’s  new  enemy,  against  which  TTI  will  patriotically  be
        supplying high-tech means of detection and interdiction is, as I have
        mentioned, to be found in the streets of our own cities. But your new
        enemy  is  little  harder  to  identify  and  destroy.  I  am  speaking  of
        industrial espionage, carried out by people indistinguishable in most
        characteristics from loyal TTI employees, people secretly in the pay
        of our competitors.”
          “Oh. Of course.” Raynes nodded sagely.
          The CEO glared at his subordinate.
          “Perhaps the import of my words has not yet sunk into your skull.
        Your department must get by on a more modest budget, while at the
        same time increasing the sophistication of its surveillance. The future
        of  TTI  depends  on  our  getting  our  products  to  market  ahead  of
        General Phobotics and Krankheitdyne. Your own clearance is high
        enough  for  me  to  tell  you  that  the  new  hardware  will  be  small,
        portable  and  make  use  of  some  cutting-edge  technology  the
        government paid dearly for us to develop. For us to take advantage
        of  that  R-and-D  advantage,  we  must  keep  knowledge  of  it  from
        leaking  out  of  the  barbwire  confines  of  our  industrial  park.  I’m
        counting on you, Forrest. If your people are as good as you say they
        are, they should be able to put in the extra time and effort required to
        make this a very tight ship. Do I make myself clear?”
          Forrest  Raynes  pushed  and  pulled  his  face  into  a  semblance  of
        grim  determination  and  buoyant  optimism.  “Yes,  sir.  No  problem,
        Mr. Arkon. We can shift gears as smoothly as a brand-new Cadillac.”


                                     * * * * *


          The  old  Air  Force  proving  ground  lay  beyond  a deserted  guard
        shack  off  an  unmarked  dirt  road  fifty  miles  north  of  Ossuary,
        California on I-63. Darryl B. Drubble, chief of police in a sprawling
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