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hallow ditches cut in beds of wet sand - arranged

like a tree with a thin trunk and short fat branches.

'When it solidifies you have to cut off the branches which are still

red hot - and long 'em over to the rolling mill. Making sure you don't

bump into the guys doing the same thing on each side of you - and for

as far as you can see. Twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and

sixty-five days a year.

'The heat blisters your skin and the smoke rips out the inside of your

lungs. Run the melt out too fast and she'll jump the mould and torch

your feet off. Dump her in sand that's too wet and the steam'Il blow

half of it up in the air like golden rain. Looks real pretty but it

can burn a hole right through you ' Kelso cut across the well-rehearsed

tale. 'No shit. You must tell us about it sometime."

'Is that where most breakers end up?" asked Jodi, trying to compensate

for her companion's withering disinterest.

'Either there or in the mines."

'Sounds like you were lucky to get here,' said Kelso.

'Not as lucky as you." Simons sounded a mite aggrieved.

Jodi let it pass. 'So what's going on, Ray?"

'We're building airplanes. Well -just starting to."

'Who's "we"?"

'Couple of dozen guys like you and me. They pulled us in from all

over."

'You from Big Blue?" asked Kelso.

Simons shook his head. 'Lineman. Tech-4. None of us have been near a

flight-deck, but we've all got Tech grades of one kind or another.

It's the only reason I can think of for drafting us here. What are you

-ground-crew?"

It was Jodi's turn to shake her head. 'Wingmen. I went over the side

last year after five up the line." She pointed to Kelso. 'He's been

off the hook for longer but . . . I never did get the whole story."

'Who cares?" said Simons. 'It's past history. Waste of breath. When

you step off the boat the tapes are wiped clean. The dinks don't give

a shit who you are or where you're from - and neither do we. It's what

you do from here on in that counts. And Rule One is to keep faith with

your fellow-breakers."

'That's good enough for me,' said Kelso.

'What's Rule Two?" asked Jodi.

'Do as you're told, keep your head down, don't try to buck the

system."

Simons's grin had a bitter twist to it.

'That's optional - depending on how long you can stand the heat. If

you want out, the dinks will be only too happy to oblige. Just

remember Rule One. Whichever way you choose to go, don't screw it for

everyone else."

'Gotcha."

Simons gave them a second appraising glance. 'So...

wing men, huh? They must have drafted you in to help the other guy

with the flight-testing."

'Could be,' admitted Kelso. 'We saw some kind of a glider fly over as

we came down the road. Was that him?"

'Yeah..."

'Brought her in real neat,' said Jodi. 'Is he another drop-out from

Big Blue?"

Simons nodded. 'Yeah. He runs the project."

Kelso exchanged a puzzled glance with Jodi, then said, 'Did I hear you

right? I thought the Iron Masters gave the orders round here."

'They do. It's ... a ... kind of interesting arrangement."

Jodi's throat tightened. 'What's this guy's name?"

'Brickman."

Kelso opened his mouth to speak, but his lips couldn't decide 'which

way to go.

Jodi asked the question for him. 'Steve Brickman?

From Roosevelt-Santa Fe?"

'Yeah,' said Simons. 'D'you know him?"

'Do we ever,' growled Kelso. 'Jack me! That lump-sucker's the reason

we're standin' here! Last time we saw him he was struttin' around with