"I dunno. I guess we hit critical mass. You recruit a few
people, they recruit a few people. It's a good way to make a couple
bucks, you get to play with boss crap, you get paid in cash, and you
have colorful co-workers." He shrugged again. "I guess they came from
wherever the trash came from. The city provides."
The homeless guy they were standing near squinted up at them. "If either
of you says something like, *Ah, these people were discarded by society,
but just as with the junk we rescue from landfills, we have seen the
worth of these poor folks and rescued them from the scrapheap of
society,* I'm gonna puke."
"The thought never crossed my mind," Alan said solemnly.
"Keep it up, Wes," Kurt said, patting the man on the shoulder. "See you
at the Greek's tonight?"
"Every night, so long as he keeps selling the cheapest beer in the
Market," Wes said, winking at Alan.
"It's cash in the door," Kurt said. "Buying components is a lot more
efficient than trying to find just the right parts." He gave Alan a
mildly reproachful look. Ever since they'd gone to strictly controlled
designs, Kurt had been heartbroken by the amount of really nice crap
that never made its way into an access point.
"This is pretty amazing," Alan said. "You're splitting the money with
them?"
"The profit -- anything leftover after buying packaging and paying
postage.
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