Adventures in the Far Future & Tales of Outer Space — page 303: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“Tam a technician, sir,” ventured Gedso timidly. “I’d like to do what | can to help.” Drummond seared him with a glare which took in the soiled and wrinkled slacks, the oversized tunic-with its too- short sleeves. “The final decadence of Empire,” said Drummond nastily. Gedso seemed to miss the insult. “If you could get somebody to tell me what is wrong—” “What would you do about it?” said Drummond. “I'll send an engineer. Now get out of here!” Gedso slipped as he rose from the chair and sat back with his full weight. It splintered to atoms under him and the whole post shook. Scarlet and confused, Gedso backed up through the door. The orderly was a mental chameleon. When he dropped Gedso out of the passenger truck before the isolated little hut reserved for Extra-Territorial Scienticorpos men in case they might come to inspect, the orderly did not offer to help Gedso with his trunk or even go so far as to hope that Gedso was comfortable. The orderly who, after the fashion of orderlies, had had an ear glued to the wall of Drummond's office, hurried away to spread, after the fashion of orderlies, his commander's opinion of the latest addition to the staff of the Crystal Mines. That this was true was indicated by the attitude of the third-rank combat engineer who slouched up to the hut two hours later and found Gedso lying on the hard bunk eating an apple. All his life, Blufore, the third-rank engineer, had heard tales of the technicians of the E-f.S., but only twice before today had he seen a technician first class in the flesh and not until today had he spoken to one of the “miracle men.” Glorified in song and story, in spacecast and rumour, E-I.S. technicians, “trouble shooters of our far-flung lifelines,” CORniclooo SS (SO)