one. Books, Ben boy. Books! People are spending alltheir time sitting in on Tri-deo, not reading. People should read more,Ben. Gives them that healthy tired feeling. Now we have the product. Wehave senior Robo-writers with more circuits than ever before. Allpossible information, every conceivable plot. Maybe a saturation guilttype campaign to start--but it's up to you, Ben. I don't care how you doit, but move books."
"Books, eh? Well, now." Ben was interested. "Funny thing, sir, but thatties in with something I was thinking about just last night."
"You have an angle? Good boy!"
"Yes, sir. Well, it is a wild thought maybe, but last summer when I wason vacation I met a man up at that new camp and--well, I know it soundssilly, but he was writing a book."
"Nonsense!"
"Just what I thought, sir. But I read some of it and, I don't know, ithad a sort of a feel about it. Something new, sir, it might catch on."
"All right, all right. That's enough. You're a salesman. You've soldme."
"On the book?" Ben was surprised.
"Quit pulling an old man's leg, Ben. I'm sold on your needing avacation. I'll fill out your vacation pass right now." The Old Man,still a vigorous, vital figure, turned and walked back to his Desk-sec."Yes sir," said the secretarial voice, "got it. Vacation clearance forTilman, Ben, any resort."
"And family," said Ben.
"And family. Very good, sir."
The Old Man made his sign on the pass and said heavily, "All right then,Ben. That's it. Maybe if you go back up to that place for a few days andsee that psycho who was writing a book again, perhaps you'll realize howimpractical it is."
"But sir! I'm serious about that book. It really did have--" he brokeoff.
The Old Man was sitting there, face blank, withdrawn. Ben could feel hewasn't even listening. That damned hearing aid of his. The Old Man hadcut it off. Suddenly, unreasoningly, Ben was furious. He stood by thehuge desk and he reached across toward the hearing aid on the Old Man'schest to turn up the volume. The Old Man looked up and saw Ben's handstretching out.
A sudden look of fear came into his china blue, clear eyes but he madeno move. He sat frozen in his chair.
Ben hesitated a second. "What--?" But he didn't have to ask. He knew.
And he also knew what he was going to do.
"No!" said the Old Man. "No, Ben. I've only been trying to help; tryingto serve your best interests the best way I know. Ben, you mustn't--"
But Ben moved forward.
* * * * *
He took the plastic box on the Old Man's chest and firmly cut theswitch.
The Old Man, the Robot Old Man, went lifeless and slumped back in hischair as Ben stretched to cut off the Desk-sec. Then he picked up hisvacation clearance.
"Robots can't sell, eh?" he said to the dead machine behind the desk."Well, you couldn't sell me that time, could you, Old Man?"
Clumsily, rustily, Ben whistled a cheerful little off-key tune tohimself. Hell, they could do anything at all--except sell.
"You can't fool some of the people all of the time," he remarked overhis shoulder to the still, silent figure of the Old Man as he left theoffice, "it was a man said that." He closed the door softly behind him.
Betty would be waiting.
Betty was waiting. Her head ached as she bounced Bennie, the child ofBen, of herself and of an unknown egg cell from an anonymous ovary, onher knees. Betty 3-RC-VIII, secret, wife-style model, the highestdevelopment of the art of Robotics had known instantly when Ben cut theOld Man's switch. She had half expected it. But it made her headacheworse.
"But damn my programming!" She spoke abruptly, aloud, nervouslyfingering the locket around her neck. "Damn it and shift circuit. He'sright! He is my husband and he is right and I'm glad. I'm glad we'regoing to the camp and I'm going to help him stay."
After all, why shouldn't a man want to do things just as much as arobot? He had energy, circuits, feelings too. She knew he did.
For herself, she loved her Ben and Bennie. But still just that wasn'tenough occupation. She was glad they were going to the new isolationcompound for non-psychotic but unstable, hyper-active, sociallydangerous individual humans. At the camp there would be things to do.
At the camp they would be happy.
All at once the headache that had been bothering her so these pastmonths was gone. She felt fine and she smiled at little Bennie."Bennie-boy," she said, kissing his smooth, untroubled baby forehead."Daddy's coming." Bennie laughed and started to reach for the locketaround Mommy's neck. But just then the door opened and he jumped down torun and meet his daddy.
END
The Real Hard Sell Page 4