Satisfaction Guaranteed
By JOY LEACHE
Illustrated by GAUGHAN
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine December 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Interstellar trouble-shooting is the
easiest work there is. All you need is
brains, energy—and a steno with nice legs!
Andrew Stephens was trying to think of two things at once, and itwasn't working out. An inspirational message (delivered by Crumbly,president of Planetary Promotions, Inc.) was mixing itself up in hismind with the probable difficulties of his first company assignment.
He hoped he was thinking, and not worrying. Crumbly said worry wasfatal in the promotion business. It was fervor, not fret, Crumbly said,that had made Planetary Promotions, Inc., what it was today. And itwas work, not worry, that would make it what it was destined to betomorrow.
Andy Stephens stared at the farthest corner of his office (about fourfeet from his nose) and sighed. He didn't have a slogan in his body,let alone on (or off) the top of his head.
His assignment was an easy one, Crumbly had assured him. PlanetaryPromotions always started new men off with easy ones. Only fair.
Andy squared his narrowish shoulders in as close an imitation ofCrumbly's desk-side manner as he could, and picked up the dope sheet.
It seemed there was a planet, Felix II, somewhere near the edge ofnowhere. It wanted to join the Galactic Federation.
A laudable desire, Andy thought, but strictly a political matter,having nothing to do with Planetary Promotions, or Andrew Stephens.
However, it also seemed that a planet had to demonstrate that it wouldbe contributing something to the Federation before it was allowed tojoin. In other words, Andy thought, you have to have something theywant, or they won't let you in.
A buzzer squawked out of the dun-colored box on his desk. Andy jumped,and flipped the lever.
"The bus to the port will be at the door in seven minutes," the grimvoice of the Lower Office Co-ordinator told him. "A stenographer willmeet you on the ship."
"Thank you, Miss Ellis," Andy said meekly. He stuffed the dope sheetinto his jacket and left the Main Office for Felix II.
"Excuse me," said a feminine voice. "Are you with Planetary Promotions?"
Andy looked up. A sandy-haired girl with a passable figure and nicelegs was looking down at him. "Yes," he said. "I'm Andy Stephens."
The girl looked relieved. "I'm Edith Featherpenny from the steno pool,"she said. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find you."
"Sit down," Andy invited.
He moved, and Miss Featherpenny moved. Between them, they unsettled alarge woman eating an orange. When the juice had been mopped up and thewoman apologized to, Miss Featherpenny squeezed in beside Andy.
"Is that the information on the case?" She indicated the dope sheetcrumpled under Andy's arm.
"Yes." Andy tried to pull it out. "Were you issued one?" He moved hiselbow and tried again.
The orange woman glared at him.
Miss Featherpenny shook her head. "Miss Ellis told me you'd tell meeverything I needed to know."
Andy felt obscurely flattered. "It doesn't look too promising," headmitted.
Miss Featherpenny glanced at the dope sheet and found a ray of hope."The Federation only requires that the Felician exports are nearly asvaluable as their imports," she pointed out. "'Nearly' is a