"Yes. Think of the fun they'll have, all those lovely slobs who get
their basic subsistence and their dignity and their honor as a free
gift from the State. The kids, especially. They'll _love_ it. It's so
fine it can be hidden inside an ordinary thread--or woven into the
hair--or...." He spread his hands. "A million places."
Fergus was gaping. Tarnhorst was concentrating on Morgan's words.
"And there's no possible way to leave fingerprints on anything that
fine," Morgan continued. "You just hook it around a couple of nails or
screws, across an open doorway or an alleyway--and wait."
"We wouldn't let it get into the people's hands," Tarnhorst said.
"You couldn't stop it," Morgan said flatly. "Manufacture the stuff and
eventually one of the workers in the plant will figure out a way to
steal some of it."
"Guards--" Fergus said faintly.
"_Pfui._ But even you had a perfect guard system, I think I can
guarantee that some of it would get into the hands of the--common
people. Unless you want to cut off all imports from the Belt."