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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59558 ***
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+                           YOUR SERVANT, SIR
+
+                             BY SOL BOREN
+
+                  _We all know that every android has
+                its little idiosyncrasies. But what can
+               a civilized human being do about it when
+                his perfect servant drives him crazy?_
+
+           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
+              Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1956.
+         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+The chubby woman glared at the android and dropped her suitcase on the
+floor. She turned to her husband and said in an angry, unsteady voice,
+"I'm leaving." Her double chin trembled. "I can't stand the sight of
+that thing another second."
+
+Raymond Golden gripped his empty glass with both hands, leaned forward
+tensely in the chair, and tried to find the right words.
+
+"Paula," he began helplessly. "Please wait. I'll get it fixed, or sell
+it, or trade it in. I'll do something."
+
+Mrs. Golden pointed a shaky, pudgy finger. "I'll never come back as
+long as _that_ is here."
+
+She bent to pick up her suitcase. The android approached silently and
+stared at her posterior.
+
+"Madam," the android said, "you are getting quite fat."
+
+Paula's back snapped upward. Her face was red and there were dark
+shadows under her eyes. "I can't stand it!" she shrieked. "I can't! I
+can't!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The words pierced Raymond's skull, exploded and splattered within. He
+winced under the barrage. Paula ignored the automatic door button, and
+flung the plastic slab open with her hand.
+
+The android followed her with its cold stare and spoke in its perfect
+voice. "Madam, that dress is atrocious. I would suggest that you change
+at once to your gray, princess silk, which will, at least, create the
+impression of slenderness."
+
+Paula screamed hysterically and ran out of the apartment. The android
+moved swiftly to the door and called after her, "Farewell, Madam. Watch
+your weight. Take care."
+
+It pushed the button on the wall and the door swung shut.
+
+The dreaded ultimatum had at last been carried out, and Raymond felt
+helpless, numbed. Indecision settled upon him like a leaden cloak and
+pulled him back against the foam-air-rest, where his head wobbled
+uncomfortably. He closed his burning, blood-shot eyes, and found no
+peace. He rubbed them with his free hand, and opened his vision to the
+staring android.
+
+Without any conscious thought, his arm extended in a slow, habitual
+motion. The android responded automatically, plucked the empty glass
+out of his hand, and said, "You drink too much, sir."
+
+Raymond nodded irritably. "I know. You've reiterated that profound
+spiritual message with monotonous irregularity."
+
+"But you do, you know."
+
+Raymond shouted angrily, "Shut up!"
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+The android was a tall, handsome model. Its voice was deep, resonant
+and faintly British. It glided over to the built-in bar and performed
+rapid, indiscernible manipulations involving ice cubes, whiskey and
+soda.
+
+The android returned swiftly with the drink and served it with a
+sweeping flourish. Raymond took the glass and gestured impatiently.
+"Cigar."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+The android withdrew a long, brown cigar from the humidor on the small,
+floating ebony end-table, placed the clipped end in Raymond's mouth,
+and lit it with the tip of its forefinger, which suddenly glowed red.
+
+It watched as Raymond puffed up several billowing, little gray clouds.
+The smoke drifted towards the android, and it said: "Disgusting habit."
+
+Raymond raised his glass, sipped the cold liquid, and remarked
+bitterly, "What a pity you can't enjoy your own poisonous concoctions."
+
+The android stepped back and stared fixedly at the man. "You are a sot,
+sir."
+
+Raymond exploded. "What!"
+
+"S-o-t, sot. An alcoholic. A drunkard. One who imbibes intoxicating
+liquors."
+
+Raymond jumped out of the chair and threw his glass and cigar on the
+carpet violently. The cigar sizzled in the midst of the foaming liquid.
+He glared at the android. "You go to hell!"
+
+"As I have repeatedly attempted to impress upon your happy, pickled
+brain, sir," the android said, "It is impossible for me to go there."
+
+"That isn't exactly what I meant."
+
+"In that case, sir, I would suggest that hereafter you say what you
+mean."
+
+Raymond swore. He swayed uncertainly, and then dropped back into the
+chair. He reached out to the floating table for a fresh cigar, jammed
+it in his mouth, and chewed it nervously. He was a short, chubby man,
+with brown, thinning hair, a double chin, and lines around his mouth,
+where a friendly smile had recently met an untimely death.
+
+Raymond pulled his cigar out of his mouth and stared at the wet soggy
+end. He moved his head from side to side, turned his gaze on the
+android, and muttered through his teeth, "You and your impeccable
+androidal exterior have got to go."
+
+The decision immediately had a relaxing effect. Raymond's moist brow
+unwrinkled itself momentarily, and he almost smiled at the thought.
+
+"Allow me to point out, sir," the android said. "That you have, to
+date, invested approximately three thousand dollars in my interior and
+exterior, as well."
+
+Raymond nodded sadly. "Not to mention fifteen more easy, cardiovascular
+producing payments." He placed his hand over the spot, where, deep
+down, his heart was located. Satisfied that it was still there, he
+said, "I've got a lot of expensive money tied up in you, but if I have
+to choose between mechanical misery and matrimonial bliss, I'll settle
+for Paula's brand of inhuman torture."
+
+"That, sir, is extremely faulty, illogical, and irrational reasoning.
+Typical, however, of most humans."
+
+Raymond smiled grimly and stood up. "If you will watch closely, oh,
+loyal servant, you will note that I am about to do something not so
+typical of my assorted human friends."
+
+Walking unsteadily over to the bar, he reached into a small drawer, and
+withdrew a small plastic container labeled: SOBERUPPER.
+
+"In fact," Raymond said, as he removed two pills and tossed them into
+his mouth, "I must be out of my mind."
+
+He swallowed hard, blinked, and gasped. For a moment he leaned heavily
+on the bar. Then suddenly, clarity. The room was brighter. The drab
+grays resolved into blue and yellow pastel panelling along the walls.
+The carpeting was a rich deep blue. The polished floating ebony slab
+glittered in the room.
+
+"Come on, Android. We're heading for the big city."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The city, as they flew over it, was a blazing ocean of roof-top
+advertisements, designed to attract the attention of the overhead
+traffic.
+
+Raymond threw a switch and a private radar beacon blipped brightly
+on his jetcopter's screen. He touched a button and the controls
+automatically guided the craft towards a gigantic flashing sign, which
+proclaimed: GENERAL ANDROIDS.
+
+The jetcopter dropped onto the roof-top parking lot with a thud. The
+android and Raymond climbed out and took the nearest escalator down to
+the mezzanine. They entered the Sales Manager's office, where Raymond
+cornered Mr. Krutchamer, the Assistant Sales Manager, and quickly
+explained the difficulties with the android.
+
+Mr. Krutchamer was a small wiry man with a surprisingly deep,
+impressive voice. He shrugged his slight shoulders, after listening
+patiently, and said, "Doesn't sound like a mechanical manifestation to
+me, sir."
+
+"Mechanical or electronical," Raymond demanded perplexed, "what's the
+difference?"
+
+"Well, sir," Mr. Krutchamer began with a flashing white-toothed smile,
+"you've had your android for three months, and while our guarantee is
+for one year, it specifically spells out an unconditional warranty
+against mechanical defects."
+
+"No guarantee against any electronic defects?"
+
+The little man shook his head emphatically. "No, sir. All electrical
+parts are guaranteed, of course, for thirty days, but you've had the
+android for ninety days."
+
+Mr. Krutchamer's face was sad, his eyebrows crept down over his eyes,
+and his voice dropped to a confidential decibel level. "I'm sorry,
+sir, but your problem sounds more like a chronic psycho-electronic
+condition. I would recommend that you see a PRD."
+
+"What's that?" Raymond was annoyed. His face was flushed and he
+squinted at the little man.
+
+"Doctor of Psychiatric Robotory."
+
+"This android doesn't need Psycho-therapy, damn it," Raymond said
+hotly. "Maybe some minor adjustment with a heavy monkey wrench. But
+that's all."
+
+"Perhaps." The little man turned on the smile. "The important thing
+in an android is that it function properly and efficiently. We are
+prepared in every way to keep your android in perfect operating
+condition, but we do not feel that it is at all necessary to concern
+ourselves with an android's alleged thoughts or vocal expressions.
+After all, it is only an android. A machine. A clever machine, but a
+machine."
+
+"This clever machine has driven my wife out of our home, and is edging
+me into a cybernetic psychoneurosis."
+
+Raymond walked stiffly out of the Sales Manager's office on to the
+balcony that overlooked the various androids that were on display in
+the showroom below and stared at the section designated MANSERVANT.
+There was an astonishing variety of tall, short, slim, fat, young,
+middle-aged, and old looking androids.
+
+Mr. Krutchamer approached him slowly. Raymond fought back his annoyance
+and asked in desperation, "What kind of deal can you give me on a trade
+in?"
+
+The Assistant Sales Manager smiled and said thoughtfully, "Let me
+see." He turned and examined the android. He looked it up and down,
+walked around in back of it, and looked it up and down some more. Then
+he circled it slowly three times, and concluded the ritual by making
+clucking noises with his teeth.
+
+Finally Mr. Krutchamer said, "Can't give you too much, you realize. It
+isn't equipped with radar, or any navagational instruments, or even the
+built-in computer. About as high as I can go would be one thousand."
+
+"One thousand!" exclaimed Raymond. "That would leave a balance of
+almost four thousand, plus the balance I've already got on this one."
+
+The android stared at Raymond and said, "I could have told you that
+before you came down here, sir."
+
+Raymond jumped, and snapped at the android, "Shut up!"
+
+Raymond was furious. He turned suddenly on Mr. Krutchamer.
+
+The Assistant Sales Manager ran into his office and closed the door
+behind him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Really, sir," the android said, "your method of operating this flying
+machine is truly offensive."
+
+Raymond jabbed the throttle and the jetcopter leaped forward. He sat
+tensely at the controls, beads of perspiration across his forehead.
+
+The android said, "I would suggest, sir, that you allow me to
+demonstrate the proper method of operating these controls."
+
+The jetcopter lurched suddenly in a sharp turning motion, and angled
+in rapidly for a reckless ground landing at WHEELER'S WONDERFUL USED
+ANDROID LOT.
+
+Mr. Wheeler personally met Raymond and the android as they disembarked.
+"Greetings," he said. "Looking for a good used android?"
+
+Raymond shook his head. "Got one I want to sell." He pointed and asked,
+"How much?"
+
+Wheeler examined the android rapidly and said, "Looks like a good
+clean model. Guess I could give you about five hundred cash."
+
+Raymond exclaimed, "What! That the best you can do?"
+
+Wheeler nodded and smiled. "That's Blue Book on this model. Take it or
+leave it. That's my top offer--cash."
+
+Raymond turned away. "Come, my faithful manservant," he said
+despondently. "Let us return to our dismal retreat, where I can get
+properly and thoroughly liquored up."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Raymond was tired and dejected. His face was lined and despair was
+in his eyes. He collapsed into his favorite chair and dispatched the
+android to the bar.
+
+Two highballs later an idea dashed itself to pieces in Raymond's
+brain. He jumped up, ran over to the Televisor, and placed a call to
+Allied-News-Facs. When the News-Facs android's plastic face appeared
+on the screen, Raymond said, "I want to place an ad in the For Sale or
+Swap section of the Four O'clock Edition."
+
+"Yes, sir. What do you desire to say?"
+
+Raymond frowned. "Just say this: Anyone desiring to take over the
+payments of one darling, efficient, well-mannered, handsome, unbearably
+conscientious android can purchase the equity extremely cheap at great
+sacrifice."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+"Yes, for now. If that doesn't work, I'll call you back." He gave his
+address and televisor number and switched off.
+
+Raymond turned to his android and said, "I've reconsidered. Maybe
+psycho-electronic-therapy can really help--one of us." He glanced at
+his watch. It was eleven a. m. "Let's go."
+
+The android followed obediently and said, "This is extremely
+monotonous."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The door read: DR. FREDRICK MILLHOP, PRD
+
+Inside, the waiting room was jammed with human beings and assorted
+electronic, two-legged contrivances. Surprise halted Raymond half-way
+through the doorway, and he studied the crowd in disbelief.
+
+A beautiful female voice pierced the noisy confusion of human and
+unhuman voices: "Do you have an appointment, or are you human?"
+
+Raymond stared at the Receptionist-Android, with its fixed smile on its
+sculptured feminine face, and replied unhappily, "I had no idea I would
+need one."
+
+The Receptionist-Android smiled steadily. "Is this an emergency, or a
+disaster, or are you sober?"
+
+"Could be," Raymond replied, bewildered. "Yes."
+
+"If you desire to wait, perhaps the Doctor might see you, see you, see
+you. But I don't see why, see why, see why."
+
+Mumbling a hasty assent, Raymond retreated into an unoccupied corner,
+where he and his android waited. The other men and women in the room
+were a grim, haggard looking group. As for the other androids, Raymond
+refused to look at them; and he closed his ears to all sound.
+
+Noon came and passed, and the afternoon dragged. Raymond lost his
+feeling of impatience, and stood in the corner trance-like. Finally at
+two-thirty a tiny green light flashed in the Receptionist-Android's
+metallic bosom.
+
+"The doctor will see you now or never."
+
+The large, spacious office, with its glowing walls, dimmed ceiling, and
+deep, soft carpeting was a silent, soothing relief. Raymond's android
+watched as the two men engaged in a mutually weary handshake.
+
+Dr. Millhop was a tall thin, sharp featured man. There were black moons
+under his eyes that lay heavily on long, guttered wrinkles. He leaned
+back in his chair, as Raymond explained the android's manifestations.
+
+The Doctor nodded his head in the manner of a man who had been
+listening to the same story all day, day after day.
+
+"Mr. Golden," Dr. Millhop said, "you must realize that every android
+has its own peculiar idiosyncrasies. Unfortunately, in some instances,
+there is absolutely nothing that can be done about it."
+
+Raymond gestured at his android, and asked hopefully, "What about this
+instance?"
+
+"I don't know," the Doctor replied frankly. "Before I can express an
+opinion, it will be necessary to run your android through exhaustive
+tests and have my technical staff examine its electronic circuits
+minutely. If it is a simple matter of rewiring, or, say, a faulty
+component, why, of course, we can straighten it out very easily.
+However, if it is a condition that is caused by Unknown Factors, then I
+can prescribe only one thing." He paused, spread his palms, and added
+sadly, "As so many of us seem to be attempting these days--_don't lose
+your temper_."
+
+"How long will it take to run your tests?"
+
+"We can send it into the lab immediately, run it through the analyzers,
+and have a report in one hour."
+
+Raymond reached into his coat pocket for a cigar, stuck it in his mouth
+and lighted it with an old-fashioned lighter. He puffed thoughtfully,
+took one glance at the android, and said, "Let's do it."
+
+The android's head swiveled sharply, staring first at Raymond and then
+at the Doctor. "Isn't anyone going to consult me?"
+
+Dr. Millhop's chair groaned, as he leaned forward suddenly. His voice
+was cold death in an angry whisper. "Shut up!"
+
+The Doctor viciously pressed a button. A large panel in the wall
+snapped open and two huge, square-shouldered, power-androids clanked
+into the room. The Doctor pointed. They lifted Raymond's protesting
+android, and carried it from the room.
+
+Back in the waiting room, Raymond drummed his fingers nervously on the
+receptionist's desk. He finished his cigar, started another one and
+finished that one. Precisely one hour later the little light flashed on
+the Receptionist-Android's dashboard chest.
+
+"The Doctor will see you again and again and again."
+
+As Raymond re-entered the office, the Doctor was examining a folder.
+
+"Mr. Golden," Dr. Millhop said in a tired voice without looking up,
+"there is absolutely nothing that can be done, short of electronic
+lobotomy."
+
+Raymond asked, "What is electronic lobotomy?"
+
+"That is tantamount to an entirely new memory bank. Even then we cannot
+guarantee that some other idiosyncrasy will not develop. Frankly, I do
+not recommend it to you. It is an expensive process, and lobotomys are
+mainly performed in the larger industrial robotic devices, where an
+extremely expensive piece of equipment is involved."
+
+The chubby man rubbed his jaw. "I've got to salvage my investment
+somehow. How much will it cost?"
+
+"Three thousand dollars."
+
+Raymond shrugged sadly, turned and walked out of the room.
+
+The Receptionist-Android looked up at him and said impersonally, "You
+will receive the Doctor's enormous bill by Telefacs."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As Raymond entered his apartment, disillusioned and exhausted, the Four
+O'clock News-Facs, containing his want-ad, was sputtering out of the
+receiver.
+
+When the News-Facs had ceased its chattering, he scanned the paper,
+grunted a resentful satisfaction, and slumped into his favorite chair.
+
+He sat and fidgeted, and waited and waited, until darkness fell. But
+there was no response to his ad.
+
+Finally he said to the android, "Looks as if you and I were meant for
+each other forever and ever."
+
+"Certainly, sir," replied the android. "You need a stable, intelligent
+advisor and mentor to save you from your frequent, horrifying errors
+of human judgment. For instance, I could have told you in advance that
+electronic butcher could not so much as cure headaches in a buzzsaw.
+In short, sir, you will never find a finer, more loyal, more capable
+android than myself. Put yourself entirely in my hands. I will even do
+your thinking for you."
+
+Raymond shook his head wearily, and remarked, "I am both excruciatingly
+sad and divinely happy at that information."
+
+"I am mystified at your sadness, sir, though gratified at any little
+happiness I might bring into your drab, miserable existence."
+
+Raymond said mildly, almost too mildly, "Shut up."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+With an effort the chubby man got to his feet, walked to the bar and
+poured himself a long drink.
+
+The following morning Raymond, finding his body host to a horrible
+hangover, staggered into the living room, and fumbled behind the bar
+for a small plastic container, which was labeled: HANGOVER-OVER.
+
+He removed two blue pills and tossed them into his mouth.
+
+When Raymond was half-way through his second cup of coffee, he suddenly
+jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers. "I've got it. What a
+tremendous, frightening idea. But it might work."
+
+He raced over to the Televisor and put in another call to
+Allied-News-Facs.
+
+A half hour later the ad was coming out of the News-Facs machine in an
+excited staccato that matched Raymond's quickening pulse.
+
+As soon as the ad was printed, he ripped it out of the receiver:
+
+            WILL TRADE MY CRAZY MIXED-UP ANDROID FOR YOURS.
+
+Raymond grinned happily for the first time in days. "Ingenious."
+
+The android said, "A complete, hopeless waste of human endeavor, sir.
+However, it is quite typical of your impulsive and somewhat obnoxious
+personality."
+
+Raymond laughed. "Say anything you like, my vanishing servant. You are
+not long for _my_ little world."
+
+Thirty minutes later the automatic door-announcer sang out: "Visitor!"
+
+Raymond set the door control on automatic. A tall, thin, haggard
+looking man entered and offered his moist hand in a feeble grip. "My
+name is Groober." He pointed weakly at the glistening android behind
+him. "This is George."
+
+Raymond stared hopefully at George and said, "Our android was once
+fondly known as Francois, but we've since been unable to think of it as
+anything but _It_."
+
+Mr. Groober sat down with a sigh, and said in a hoarse voice, "This
+idiotic robotic device has a chemurgical complex."
+
+George, the android, stared at Raymond. "Sir, you have an extremely
+high fat content."
+
+Raymond briefly described his android to Mr. Groober, and the latter
+shook his head sadly. "Looks as if they've got a lot in common."
+
+Raymond nodded sympathetically.
+
+The door-announcer sang out again: "Visitor!"
+
+A little old lady entered. "I am Mrs. Quimby," she announced in a
+squeaky voice. "And _this_ is Daisy."
+
+Daisy followed her in, walking on its hands. Raymond stared curiously
+at Daisy and remarked, "That's a new twist."
+
+Mrs. Quimby said with bitterness, "That ain't all Daisy does."
+
+Daisy suddenly collapsed to the floor, leaped to its feet, and began
+jumping up and down. Its feet hit the floor with a crash; it's head hit
+the ceiling with a thud; up and down, up and down.
+
+Raymond asked, "How do you stop it? My ceiling can't take much more of
+that."
+
+Mrs. Quimby said, "Don't know. Depends on the ceiling."
+
+"Visitor!" The door-announcer cried again in its one-word recorded glee.
+
+A large android walked in ahead of a short, perspiring man. The android
+announced, "I am Ulysses, the greatest android ever produced. This poor
+creature is my old, worn out owner. I am here to find a new, strong,
+vigorous owner. Which one of you is interested?"
+
+The door-announcer sang out again and again. In two hours the little
+apartment was jammed with human beings and inhuman androids. The
+interviewing process no longer involved Raymond alone. It became an
+interwoven, complex affair.
+
+The confused, excited melee continued on through the night. It lasted
+all through the following day and night, and on into the day after,
+when the last guest left with his militaristic android counting cadence
+in a loud grating voice.
+
+Raymond mixed a strong drink and collapsed into his chair, muttering to
+himself, "How utterly, utterly hopeless. There wasn't a single android
+that didn't have some glaring incurable idiosyncrasy that could drive
+Paula and me completely out of our minds as easily as our present
+mechanized helpmate." He appealed to the cracked ceiling. "What am I
+going to do?"
+
+His android said, "You look like a tired, fat old man."
+
+"Shut up."
+
+The android stared at Raymond and asked, "What fiendish, diabolical,
+sure-fire scheme have you devised in that tiny, inadequate human brain
+of yours now, sir?"
+
+Raymond leered at the android. Perspiration was breaking out all over
+his body. His lower lip began to tremble and his cheek twitched.
+
+Raymond tapped his forehead. "When science fails," he said in a hoarse
+whisper, "there it but one method left for a poor, ignorant savage with
+a primitive brain."
+
+Moving forward swiftly, Raymond bent over, and seized the floating
+ebony end-table in both hands.
+
+"Come here, oh, modest, unassuming, subservient one. I want to bend
+your ear."
+
+Raymond lunged forward and swung. The android dodged awkwardly, and the
+table top glanced off the side of its head.
+
+For a long moment the android remained quiet and motionless. Finally it
+said, "Did you ring, sir?"
+
+The ebony slab slipped from Raymond's hands. He squinted at the android
+from under drooping, red-rimmed eyelids.
+
+The android's head remained perfectly still. Its eyes did not follow
+him.
+
+Raymond stepped over to the bar, made tinkling noises with the bottles,
+and waited tensely.
+
+Silence. Pure silence.
+
+The stillness of the room was suddenly warm and friendly. Astonishment
+swept over Raymond in a dizzy wave. He asked in an excited whisper,
+"Who are you?"
+
+The android turned towards him and bowed humbly. "Your servant, sir."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Your Servant, Sir, by Sol Boren
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59558 ***