by Fritz Leiber
VI
Gusterson sucked in such a big gasp that he hiccuped. The rightshoulder of Fay's jacket and shirt had been cut away. Thrusting upthrough the neatly hemmed hole was a silvery gray hump with a one-eyedturret atop it and two multi-jointed metal arms ending in littleclaws.
It looked like the top half of a pseudo-science robot--a squat evilchild robot, Gusterson told himself, which had lost its legs in arailway accident--and it seemed to him that a red fleck was movingaround imperceptibly in the huge single eye.
"I'll take that memo now," Fay said coolly, reaching out his hand. Hecaught the rustling sheets as they slipped from Gusterson's fingers,evened them up very precisely by tapping them on his knee ... and thenhanded them over his shoulder to his tickler, which clicked its clawsaround either margin and then began rather swiftly to lift the topsheet past its single eye at a distance of about six inches.
"The first matter I want to take up with you, Gussy," Fay began,paying no attention whatsoever to the little scene on his shoulder,"--or warn you about, rather--is the imminent ticklerization ofschoolchildren, geriatrics, convicts and topsiders. At three zero zerotomorrow ticklers become mandatory for all adult shelterfolk. Themop-up operations won't be long in coming--in fact, these days we findthat the square root of the estimated time of a new development isgenerally the best time estimate. Gussy, I strongly advise you tostart wearing a tickler now. And Daisy and your moppets. If you heedmy advice, your kids will have the jump on your class. Transition andconditioning are easy, since Tickler itself sees to it."
Pooh-Bah leafed the first page to the back of the packet and beganlifting the second past his eye--a little more swiftly than the first.
"I've got a Mark 6 tickler all warmed up for you," Fay pressed, "_and_a shoulder cape. You won't feel one bit conspicuous." He noticed thedirection of Gusterson's gaze and remarked, "Fascinating mechanism,isn't it? Of course 28 pounds are a bit oppressive, but then you haveto remember it's only a way-station to free-floating Mark 7 or 8."
Pooh-Bah finished page two and began to race through page three.
"But I wanted _you_ to read it," Gusterson said bemusedly, staring.
"Pooh-Bah will do a better job than I could," Fay assured him. "Getthe gist without losing the chaff."
"But dammit, it's all about _him_," Gusterson said a little morestrongly. "He won't be objective about it."
"A better job," Fay reiterated, "_and_ more fully objective.Pooh-Bah's set for full precis. Stop worrying about it. He's adispassionate machine, not a fallible, emotionally disturbed humanmisled by the will-o'-the-wisp of consciousness. Second matter: MicroSystems is impressed by your contributions to Tickler and will recruityou as a senior consultant with a salary and thinking box as big as myown, family quarters to match. It's an unheard-of high start. Gussy, Ithink you'd be a fool--"
* * * * *
He broke off, held up a hand for silence, and his eyes got a listeninglook. Pooh-Bah had finished page six and was holding the packetmotionless. After about ten seconds Fay's face broke into a big fakesmile. He stood up, suppressing a wince, and held out his hand."Gussy," he said loudly, "I am happy to inform you that all your fearsabout Tickler are so much thistledown. My word on it. There's nothingto them at all. Pooh-Bah's precis, which he's just given to me, provesit."
"Look," Gusterson said solemnly, "there's one thing I want you to do.Purely to humor an old friend. But I want you to do it. _Read thatmemo yourself._"
"Certainly I will, Gussy," Fay continued in the same ebullient tones."I'll read it--" he twitched and his smile disappeared--"a littlelater."
"Sure," Gusterson said dully, holding his hand to his stomach. "Andnow if you don't mind, Fay, I'm goin' home. I feel just a bit sick.Maybe the ozone and the other additives in your shelter air are tooheady for me. It's been years since I tramped through a pine forest."
"But Gussy! You've hardly got here. You haven't even sat down. Haveanother martini. Have a seltzer pill. Have a whiff of oxy. Have a--"
"No, Fay, I'm going home right away. I'll think about the job offer._Remember to read that memo._"
"I will, Gussy, I certainly will. You know your way? The button takesyou through the wall. 'By, now."
He sat down abruptly and looked away. Gusterson pushed through theswinging door. He tensed himself for the step across onto theslowly-moving reverse ribbon. Then on a impulse he pushed ajar theswinging door and looked back inside.
Fay was sitting as he'd left him, apparently lost in listlessbrooding. On his shoulder Pooh-Bah was rapidly crossing and uncrossingits little metal arms, tearing the memo to smaller and smaller shreds.It let the scraps drift slowly toward the floor and oddly writhed itsthree-elbowed left arm ... and then Gusterson knew from whom, orrather from what, Fay had copied his new shrug.
