Battlefield Earth Page #2

. . .the species is called "dog. "

-Dog.|-Yes.

Obviously the superior race,|having the man-animal chauffeur.

Well, dogs did prove to be|more cooperative than the man-animals.

They weren't as useful|when it came to manual labor.

I am honored by your visit,|Your Excellency.

Thank you, Planetship.

You'll be pleased. I approved|additional labor resources.

They'll be here|by the end of quarter cycle.

Thank you, Your Excellency.

Now, let's see.

Your long overdue transfer.

You must be looking forward to getting|off this disgusting excuse of a planet.

I just want to do whatever serves|the corporation best, sir.

Very admirable.|And I must say, you've done. . .

. . .a first-rate job here|as interim security chief.

Hear, hear! Hear, hear!

I do what I can.

So we've decided to keep you|for another tour of service.

There must be some mistake.

Home Office does not make mistakes.

Of course not.|But have you looked at my file?

It explicitly says that this|is a temporary assignment.

Are you not aware that I graduated|top of my class?

Quite an accomplishment.

I don't mean to second-guess|the Home Office. . .

. . .but surely I could be|of better service--

Home Office is well aware of your|academic achievements and talents.

That's why we've decided not to keep|you here for another five cycles.

It's a joke.

Thank you, sir.

I don't know if I|could've kept my sanity. . .

. . .to be here another five cycles.

We've decided to keep you here|for another 50 cycles!

With endless options for renewal!

Those options, of course. . .

. . .being at Home Office's discretion.

Not yours.

The senator. . .

. . .has a lot of friends.

Would you please tell the senator. . .

. . .if I'd had even an inkling that|that was his daughter--

Watch your tongue.

The senator's exact words to me were,|and I'm quoting:

"If that blasted Terl tries|to talk his way out of it. . .

. . .have him vaporized on the spot. "

But cheer up.|There's one bright side to this.

One day you're going to die,|and when you end up in hell. . .

. . .at least it'll be a step up|from this place.

You haven't left for Psychlo.

Your powers of observation|are simply startling.

Give me three pans to go.

I don't know what|you're so down about.

You still get to be head of security.

Which, from what I can tell,|is a pretty cushy job.

Well, I can assure you. . .

. . .that I was not groomed since birth|to have some cushy job. . .

. . .that even a moron like you|could perform.

While you were still learning|how to spell your name. . .

. . .I was being trained|to conquer galaxies!

To do anything less. . .

. . .is a disgrace|to my entire family line.

That'll be six credits.

Put it on my tab.

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