[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

symptomatic.  You know, we may owe the Fuzzies a debt of gratitude, if what s
happened to us will make us start acting like a business concern instead of a
bunch of kids in fairyland. All right; go ahead. Finding out how the Fuzzy got
in here is still of top importance, but clean house generally while you re at
it and see that it stays cleaned up.
Then he called Juan Jimenez at Science Center. Jimenez had gotten a new suit
since yesterday, less casual, more executive. His public face had been done
over too, to emphasize efficiency rather than agreeableness.
 Good morning, Victor. He stumbled a little over the first name, which was a
prerogative of a division chief but to which he was not yet accustomed.
 Good morning, Juan. I know you haven t forgotten we re lunching together,
but I wondered if you could make it a little early. There are a couple of
things we want to go over first. In twenty minutes?
 Easily; sooner than that if you wish.
 As soon as you can make it. Just come in the back way.
Then he made another screen call. This was an outside call, for which he had
to look up the combination. When the screen cleared, a thin-faced, elderly man
with white hair looked out of it. He wore a gray work smock, the breast
pockets full of small tools and calibrating instruments. His name was Henry
Stenson, and he might have been called an instrument maker, just as Benvenuto
Cellini might have been called a jeweler.
 Why, Mr. Grego, he greeted, in pleased surprise, or reasonable facsimile.
 I haven t heard from you for some time.
 No. Not since that gadget you planted in my globe stopped broadcasting.
Incidentally, the globe s about thirty seconds slow, and both moons are
impossibly out of synchronization. We had to stop it to take out that thing
you built into it, and none of my people has your fine touch.
Stenson grimaced slightly.  I suppose you know for whom I did that?
 Well, I m not certain whether you re Navy Intelligence, like our former
employee, Ruth Ortheris, or Colonial Office Investigative Bureau; but that s
minor. Whoever, they re to be congratulated on an excellent operative. You
know, I could get quite nasty about that; planting radio-transmitted
microphones in people s offices is a felony. I don t intend doing anything,
but I definitely want no more of it. You can understand my attitude.
 Well, naturally, Mr. Grego. You know, he added,  I thought that thing was
detection proof.
 Instrumentally, yes. My people were awed when they saw the detection baffles
on that thing. Have you patented them? If you have, we owe you some money,
because we re copying them. But nothing is proof against physical search, and
we practically tore my office apart as soon as it became evident that anything
said in it was known almost immediately on Xerxes Base.
Stenson nodded gravely.  You didn t call me just to tell me you d caught me
out? I knew that as soon as the radio went dead.
 No. I want you to put the globe back in synchronization, as soon as
Page 38
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
possible. And there s another thing. You helped the people on Xerxes design
those ultrasonic hearing aids, didn t you? Well, could you attack the problem
from the other side, Mr. Stenson? I mean, design a little self-powered
hand-phone, small enough for a Fuzzy to carry, that would transform the
Fuzzy s voice to audible frequencies?
Stenson was silent for all of five seconds.  Yes, of course, Mr. Grego. If
anything, it should be simpler. Of course, teaching the Fuzzy to carry and use
it would be a problem, but not in my line of work.
 Well, try and get an experimental model done as soon as possible. I have a
Fuzzy available to try it. And if there s anything patentable about it, get it
protected. Talk to Leslie Coombes. This may be of commercial value to both of
us.
 You think there ll be a demand? Stenson asked.  How much do you think a
Fuzzy would pay for one?
 I think the Native Affairs Commission would pay ten to fifteen sols apiece
for them, and I m sure our electronics plant could turn them out to sell
profitably for that.
Somebody had entered the office; in one of the strategically placed mirrors,
he saw that it was Juan Jimenez keeping out of the field of the screen-pickup.
He nodded to him and went on talking to Stenson, who would be around the next
morning to look at the globe. When they finished the conversation and blanked
screens, he motioned Jimenez to his deskside chair.
 How much of that did you hear? he asked.
 Well, I heard that white-haired old Iscariot say he d be around tomorrow to
fix the globe...
 Henry Stenson is no Iscariot, Juan. He is a Terran Federation secret agent,
and the Federation is to be congratulated on his loyalty and ability. Now that
I know just what he is, and now that he knows I know it, we can do business on
a friendly basis of mutual respect and distrust. He s going to work up a
gadget by which the Fuzzies can speak audibly to us.
 Now, about Fuzzies, he continued.  We re sure that your two helpers,
Herckerd and Novaes, brought this Fuzzy of mine here to Mallorysport. You say
they didn t have him when they came back with you?
 Absolutely not, Mr. Grego.
 Would you veridicate that?
Jimenez didn t want to, that was plain. But he did want to work for the
Company, especially now that he had just been promoted to chief of Scientific
Study and Research. He was as close to the top of the Company House hierarchy
as he could get, and he wanted to stay there.
 Yes, of course. I d hoped, though, that my word would be good enough...
 Nobody s word s going to be good enough. I m going to veridicate what I know
about it, myself; so s Ernst Mallin. There will be quite a few veridicated
statements taken in the next few days. Now, I want you to meet this Fuzzy. See
if you know him, or if he knows you.
They went out to the private lift and up to the penthouse. In the living
Page 39
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
room, Sandra Glenn was lounging in his favorite chair, listening to something
from a record player with an earphone, and smoking. As they entered, she shut
off the player and closed her eyes.  Sojosso-aki; you give me, she said.
 Aki-jossoso; I give you. So-noho-aki dokko; you tell me how many.
They tiptoed past her and out onto the terrace. Ernst Mallin was sitting on a
low hassock, with his hearing aid on; Diamond was squatting in front of him,
tying knots in a length of twine. An audiovisual recorder was set up to cover
both of them. Diamond sprang to his feet and ran to meet them, crying out:
 Pappy Vic! Heeta! and holding up the cord to show the knots he had been
learning to tie. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]