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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f749079 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63616 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63616) diff --git a/old/63616-8.txt b/old/63616-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5c65508..0000000 --- a/old/63616-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,983 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hagerty's Enzymes, by A. L. Haley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Hagerty's Enzymes - -Author: A. L. Haley - -Release Date: November 3, 2020 [EBook #63616] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HAGERTY'S ENZYMES *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - HAGERTY'S ENZYMES - - By A. L. HALEY - - _There's a place for every man and a man for - every place, but on robot-harried Mars the - situation was just a little different._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1955. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Harper Breen sank down gingerly into the new Relaxo-Lounge. He placed -twitching hands on the arm-rests and laid his head back stiffly. He -closed his fluttering eyelids and clamped his mouth to keep the corner -from jumping. - -"Just lie back, Harp," droned his sister soothingly. "Just give in and -let go of everything." - -Harper tried to let go of everything. He gave in to the chair. And -gently the chair went to work. It rocked rhythmically, it vibrated -tenderly. With velvety cushions it massaged his back and arms and legs. - -For all of five minutes Harper stood it. Then with a frenzied lunge -he escaped the embrace of the Relaxo-Lounge and fled to a gloriously -stationary sofa. - -"Harp!" His sister, Bella, was ready to weep with exasperation. "Dr. -Franz said it would be just the thing for you! Why won't you give it a -trial?" - -Harper glared at the preposterous chair. "Franz!" he snarled. "That -prize fathead! I've paid him a fortune in fees. I haven't slept for -weeks. I can't eat anything but soup. My nerves are jangling like -a four-alarm fire. And what does he prescribe? A blasted jiggling -baby carriage! Why, I ought to send him the bill for it!" Completely -outraged, he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. - -"Now, Harp, you know you've never obeyed his orders. He told you -last year that you'd have to ease up. Why do you have to try to run -the whole world? It's the strain of all your business worries that's -causing your trouble. He told you to take a long vacation or you'd -crack up. Don't blame him for your own stubbornness." - -Harper snorted. His large nose developed the sound magnificently. -"Vacation!" he snorted. "Batting a silly ball around or dragging a hook -after a stupid fish! Fine activities for an intelligent middle-aged -man! And let me correct you. It isn't business worries that are driving -me to a crack-up. It's the strain of trying to get some sensible, -reasonable coöperation from the nincompoops I have to hire! It's the -idiocy of the human race that's got me whipped! It's the--" - -"Hey, Harp, old man!" His brother-in-law, turning the pages of the -new colorama magazine, INTERPLANETARY, had paused at a double-spread. -"Didn't you have a finger in those Martian equatorial wells they sunk -twenty years ago?" - -Harper's hands twitched violently. "Don't mention that fiasco!" he -rasped. "That deal nearly cost me my shirt! Water, hell! Those wells -spewed up the craziest conglomeration of liquids ever tapped!" - - * * * * * - -Scribney, whose large, phlegmatic person and calm professorial brain -were the complete antithesis of Harper's picked-crow physique and -scheming financier's wits, looked severely over his glasses. Harp's -nervous tribulations were beginning to bore him, as well as interfere -with the harmony of his home. - -"You're away behind the times, Harp," he declared. "Don't you know -that those have proved to be the most astoundingly curative springs -ever discovered anywhere? Don't you know that a syndicate has built -the largest extra-terrestial hotel of the solar system there and that -people are flocking to it to get cured of whatever ails 'em? Old man, -you missed a bet!" - -Leaping from the sofa, Harper rudely snatched the magazine from -Scribney's hands. He glared at the spread which depicted a star-shaped -structure of bottle-green glass resting jewel-like on the rufous rock -of Mars. The main portion of the building consisted of a circular -skyscraper with a glass-domed roof. Between its star-shaped annexes, -other domes covered landscaped gardens and noxious pools which in the -drawing looked lovely and enticing. - -"Why, I remember now!" exclaimed Bella. "That's where the Durants went -two years ago! He was about dead and she looked like a hag. They came -back in wonderful shape. Don't you remember, Scrib?" - -Dutifully Scribney remembered and commented on the change the Martian -springs had effected in the Durants. "It's the very thing for you, -Harp," he advised. "You'd get a good rest on the way out. This gas -they use in the rockets nowadays is as good as a rest-cure; it sort of -floats you along the time-track in a pleasant daze, they tell me. And -you can finish the cure at the hotel while looking it over. And not -only that." Confidentially he leaned toward his insignificant looking -brother-in-law. "The chemists over at Dade McCann have just isolated an -enzyme from one species of Martian fungus that breaks down crude oil -into its components without the need for chemical processing. There's a -fortune waiting for the man who corners that fungus market and learns -to process the stuff!" - -Scribney had gauged his victim's mental processes accurately. The -magazine sagged in Harp's hands, and his sharp eyes became shrewd and -calculating. He even forgot to twitch. "Maybe you're right, Scrib," he -acknowledged. "Combine a rest-cure with business, eh?" - -Raising the magazine, he began reading the advertisement. And that -was when he saw the line about the robots. "--the only hotel staffed -entirely with robot servants--" - -"Robots!" he shrilled. "You mean they've developed the things to that -point? Why hasn't somebody told me? I'll have Jackson's hide! I'll -disfranchise him! I'll--" - -"Harp!" exploded Bella. "Stop it! Maybe Jackson doesn't know a thing -about it, whatever it is! If it's something at the Emerald Star Hotel, -why don't you just go and find out for yourself instead of throwing a -tantrum? That's the only sensible way!" - -"You're right, Bella," agreed Harper incisively. "I'll go and find out -for myself. Immediately!" Scooping up his hat, he left at his usual -lope. - -"Well!" remarked his sister. "All I can say is that they'd better turn -that happy-gas on extra strong for Harp's trip out!" - - * * * * * - -The trip out did Harper a world of good. Under the influence of the -soporific gas that permeated the rocket, he really relaxed for the -first time in years, sinking with the other passengers into a hazy -lethargy with little sense of passing time and almost no memory of the -interval. - -It seemed hardly more than a handful of hours until they were strapping -themselves into deceleration hammocks for the landing. And then Harper -was waking with lassitude still heavy in his veins. He struggled out of -the hammock, made his way to the airlock, and found himself whisked by -pneumatic tube directly into the lobby of the Emerald Star Hotel. - -Appreciatively he gazed around at the half-acre of moss-gray carpeting, -green-tinted by the light sifting through the walls of Martian -copper-glass, and at the vistas of beautiful domed gardens framed by a -dozen arches. But most of all, the robots won his delighted approval. - -He could see at once that they had been developed to an amazingly high -state of perfection. How, he wondered again, had this been done without -his knowledge? Was Scrib right? Was he slipping? Gnawing at the doubt, -he watched the robots moving efficiently about, pushing patients in -wheelchairs, carrying trays, guiding newcomers, performing janitorial -duties tirelessly, promptly, and best of all, silently. - -Harper was enthralled. He'd staff his offices with them. Hang the -expense! There'd be no more of that obnoxious personal friction and -proneness to error that was always deviling the most carefully trained -office staffs! He'd investigate and find out the exact potentialities -of these robots while here, and then go home and introduce them into -the field of business. He'd show them whether he was slipping! Briskly -he went over to the desk. - -He was immediately confronted with a sample of that human obstinacy -that was slowly driving him mad. Machines, he sighed to himself. -Wonderful silent machines! For a woman was arguing stridently with the -desk clerk who, poor man, was a high strung fellow human instead of a -robot. Harper watched him shrinking and turning pale lavender in the -stress of the argument. - -"A nurse!" shouted the woman. "I want a nurse! A real woman! For what -you charge, you should be able to give me a television star if I want -one! I won't have another of those damnable robots in my room, do you -hear?" - -No one within the confines of the huge lobby could have helped hearing. -The clerk flinched visibly. "Now, Mrs. Jacobsen," he soothed. "You know -the hotel is staffed entirely with robots. They're much more expensive, -really, than human employees, but so much more efficient, you know. -Admit it, they give excellent service, don't they, now?" Toothily he -smiled at the enraged woman. - -"That's just it!" Mrs. Jacobsen glared. "The service is _too_ good. -I might just as well have a set of push buttons in the room. I want -someone to _hear_ what I say! I want to be able to change my mind once -in awhile!" - -Harper snorted. "Wants someone she can devil," he diagnosed. "Someone -she can get a kick out of ordering around." With vast contempt he -stepped to the desk beside her and peremptorily rapped for the clerk. - -"One moment, sir," begged that harassed individual. "Just one moment, -please." He turned back to the woman. - -But she had turned her glare on Harper. "You could at least be civil -enough to wait your turn!" - -Harper smirked. "My good woman, I'm not a robot. Robots, of course, -are always civil. But you should know by now that civility isn't a -normal human trait." Leaving her temporarily quashed, he beckoned -authoritatively to the clerk. - -"I've just arrived and want to get settled. I'm here merely for a -rest-cure, no treatments. You can assign my quarters before continuing -your--ah--discussion with the lady." - -The clerk sputtered. Mrs. Jacobsen sputtered. But not for nothing was -Harper one of the leading business executives of the earth. Harper's -implacable stare won his point. Wiping beads of moisture from his -forehead, the clerk fumbled for a card, typed it out, and was about to -deposit it in the punch box when a fist hit the desk a resounding blow -and another voice, male, roared out at Harper's elbow. - -"This is a helluva joint!" roared the voice. "Man could rot away to the -knees while he's waitin' for accommodations. Service!" Again his fist -banged the counter. - -The clerk jumped. He dropped Harper's card and had to stoop for it. -Absently holding it, he straightened up to face Mrs. Jacobsen and the -irate newcomer. Hastily he pushed a tagged key at Harper. - -"Here you are, Mr. Breen. I'm sure you'll find it comfortable." With a -pallid smile he pressed a button and consigned Harper to the care of a -silent and efficient robot. - - * * * * * - -The room was more than comfortable. It was beautiful. Its bank of clear -windows set in the green glass wall framed startling rubicund views of -the Martian hinterland where, Harper affectionately thought, fungi were -busy producing enzymes that were going to be worth millions for him and -his associates. There remained only the small detail of discovering how -to extract them economically and to process them on this more than arid -and almost airless planet. Details for his bright young laboratory men; -mere details.... - -Leaving his luggage to be unpacked by the robot attendant, he went up -to the domed roof restaurant. Lunching boldly on broiled halibut with -consomme, salad and a bland custard, he stared out at the dark blue -sky of Mars, with Deimos hanging in the east in three-quarter phase -while Phobos raced up from the west like a meteor behind schedule. -Leaning back in his cushioned chair, he even more boldly lit a slim -cigar--his first in months--and inhaled happily. For once old Scribney -had certainly been right, he reflected. Yes sir, Scrib had rung the -bell, and he wasn't the man to forget it. With a wonderful sense of -well-being he returned to his room and prepared to relax. - -Harper opened his eyes. Two robots were bending over him. He saw that -they were dressed in white, like hospital attendants. But he had no -further opportunity to examine them. With brisk, well-co-ordinated -movements they wheeled a stretcher along-side his couch, stuck a hypo -into his arm, bundled him onto the stretcher and started wheeling him -out. - -Harper's tongue finally functioned. "What's all this?" he demanded. -"There's nothing wrong with me. Let me go!" - -He struggled to rise, but a metal hand pushed him firmly on the chest. -Inexorably it pushed him flat. - -"You've got the wrong room!" yelled Harp. "Let me go!" But the hypo -began to take effect. His yells became weaker and drowsier. Hazily, as -he drifted off, he thought of Mrs. Jacobsen. Maybe she had something, -at that. - - * * * * * - -There was a tentative knock on the door. "Come in," called Harper -bleakly. As soon as the door opened he regretted his invitation, for -the opening framed the large untidy man who had noisily pounded on the -desk demanding service while he, Harp, was being registered. - -"Say, pardner," he said hoarsely, "you haven't seen any of them robots -around here, have you?" - -Harper scowled. "Oh, haven't I?" he grated. "Robots! Do you know what -they did to me." Indignation lit fires in his pale eyes. "Came in here -while I was lying down peacefully digesting the first meal I've enjoyed -in months, dragged me off to the surgery, and pumped it all out! The -only meal I've enjoyed in months!" Blackly he sank his chin onto his -fist and contemplated the outrage. - -"Why didn't you stop 'em?" reasonably asked the visitor. - -"Stop a robot?" Harper glared pityingly. "How? You can't reason with -the blasted things. And as for using force--it's man against metal. You -try it!" He ground his teeth together in futile rage. "And to think I -had the insane notion that robots were the last word! Why, I was ready -to staff my offices with the things!" - -The big man placed his large hands on his own capacious stomach and -groaned. "I'm sure sorry it was you and not me, pardner. I could use -some of that treatment right now. Musta been that steak and onions I -ate after all that tundra dope I've been livin' on." - -"Tundra?" A faint spark of alertness lightened Harper's dull rage. "You -mean you work out here on the tundra?" - -"That's right. How'd you think I got in such a helluva shape? I'm -superintendent of one of the fungus plants. I'm Jake Ellis of Hagerty's -Enzymes. There's good money in it, but man, what a job! No air worth -mentionin'. Temperature always freezin' or below. Pressure suits. Huts. -Factory. Processed food. Nothin' else. Just nothin'. That's where they -could use some robots. It sure ain't no job for a real live man. And in -fact, there ain't many men left there. If old man Hagerty only knew it, -he's about out of business." - -Harper sat up as if he'd been needled. He opened his mouth to speak. -But just then the door opened briskly and two robots entered. With a -horrified stare, Harper clutched his maltreated stomach. He saw a third -robot enter, wheeling a chair. - -"A wheel chair!" squeaked the victim. "I tell you, there's nothing -wrong with me! Take it away! I'm only here for a rest-cure! Believe me! -Take it away!" - -The robots ignored him. For the first time in his spectacular and -ruthless career Harper was up against creatures that he could neither -bribe, persuade nor browbeat, inveigle nor ignore. It shattered his -ebbing self-confidence. He began waving his hands helplessly. - -The robots not only ignored Harper. They paid no attention at all to -Jake Ellis, who was plucking at their metallic arms pleading, "Take -me, boys. I need the treatment bad, whatever it is. I need all the -treatment I can get. Take me! I'm just a wreck, fellers--" - -Stolidly they picked Harper up, plunked him into the chair, strapped -him down and marched out with him. - -Dejectedly Ellis returned to his own room. Again he lifted the receiver -of the room phone; but as usual a robot voice answered sweetly, -mechanically, and meaninglessly. He hung up and went miserably to bed. - - * * * * * - -There was something nagging at Harper's mind. Something he should do. -Something that concerned robots. But he was too exhausted to think it -out. - -For five days now his pet robots had put him through an ordeal that -made him flinch every time he thought about it. Which wasn't often, -since he was almost past thinking. They plunked him into stinking -mud-baths and held him there until he was well-done to the bone, he -was sure. They soaked him in foul, steaming irradiated waters until he -gagged. They brought him weird concoctions to eat and drink and then -stood over him until he consumed them. They purged and massaged and -exercised him. - -Whenever they let him alone, he simply collapsed into bed and slept. -There was nothing else to do anyway. They'd taken his clothes; and the -phone, after an announcement that he would have no more service for two -weeks, gave him nothing but a busy signal. - -"Persecution, that's what it is!" he moaned desperately. And he turned -his back to the mirror, which showed him that he was beginning to look -flesh-colored instead of the parchment yellow to which he had become -accustomed. He closed his mind to the fact that he was sleeping for -hours on end like the proverbial baby, and that he was getting such an -appetite that he could almost relish even that detestable mush they -sent him for breakfast. He was determined to be furious. As soon as he -could wake up enough to be. - -He hadn't been awake long this time before Jake Ellis was there again, -still moaning about his lack of treatments. "Nothin' yet," he gloomily -informed Harp. "They haven't been near me. I just can't understand it. -After I signed up for the works and paid 'em in advance! And I can't -find any way out of this section. The other two rooms are empty and the -elevator hasn't got any button. The robots just have to come and get a -man or he's stuck." - -"Stuck!" snarled Harp. "I'm never stuck! And I'm damned if I'll wait -any longer to break out of this--this jail! Listen, Jake. I've been -thinking. Or trying to, with what's left of me. You came in just when -that assinine clerk was registering me. I'll bet that clerk got rattled -and gave me the wrong key. I'll bet you're supposed to have this room -and I'm getting your treatments. Why don't we switch rooms and see what -happens?" - -"Say, maybe you're right!" Jake's eyes gleamed at last with hope. "I'll -get my clothes." - -Harp's eyebrows rose. "You mean they left you your clothes?" - -"Why, sure. You mean they took yours?" - -Harp nodded. An idea began to formulate. "Leave your things, will you? -I'm desperate! I'm going to see the manager of this madhouse if I have -to go down dressed in a sheet. Your clothes would be better than that." - -Jake, looking over Harper's skimpy frame, grunted doubtfully. "Maybe -you could tie 'em on so they wouldn't slip. And roll up the cuffs. It's -okay with me, but just don't lose something when you're down there in -that fancy lobby." - -Harper looked at his watch. "Time to go. Relax, old man. The robots -will be along any minute now. If you're the only man in the room, I'm -sure they'll take you. They aren't equipped to figure it out. And don't -worry about me. I'll anchor your duds all right." - -Harper had guessed right. Gleefully from the doorway of his new room -he watched the robots wheel away his equally delighted neighbor for -his first treatment. Then he closed the door and began to don Jake's -clothing. - -The result was unique. He looked like a small boy in his father's -clothes, except for the remarkably aged and gnome-like head sticking -up on a skinny neck from a collar three sizes too big. And he was -shoeless. He was completely unable to navigate in Jake's number -twelves. But Harper was a determined man. He didn't even flinch from -his image in the mirror. Firmly he stepped over to Jake's telephone. -"This is room 618," he said authoritatively. "Send up the elevator for -me. I want to go down to the lobby." - -He'd guessed right again. "It will be right up, sir," responded the -robot operator. Hopefully he stepped out into the hall and shuffled to -the elevator. - - * * * * * - -Only the robots were immune to Harper Breen's progress across the huge -suave lobby. - -He was a blot on its rich beauty, a grotesque enigma that rooted the -other visitors into paralyzed staring groups. Stepping out of the -elevator, he had laid a course for the desk which loomed like an island -in a moss-gray lake, and now he strode manfully toward it, ignoring the -oversize trousers slapping around his stocking feet. Only the robots -shared his self control. - -The clerk was the first to recover from the collective stupor. -Frantically he pushed the button that would summon the robot guard. -With a gasp of relief he saw the two massive manlike machines moving -inexorably forward. He pointed to Harper. "Get that patient!" he -ordered. "Take him to the--to the mud-baths!" - -"No you don't!" yelled Harper. "I want to see the manager!" Nimbly he -circled the guard and leaped behind the desk. He began to throw things -at the robots. Things like inkwells and typewriters and card indexes. -Especially, card indexes. - -"Stop it!" begged the clerk. "You'll wreck the system! We'll never get -it straight again! Stop it!" - -"Call them off!" snarled Harper. "Call them off or I'll ruin your -switchboard!" He put a shoulder against it and prepared to heave. - -With one last appalled glare at the madman, the clerk picked up an -electric finger and pointed it at the approaching robots. They became -oddly inanimate. - -"That's better!" Harper straightened up and meticulously smoothed the -collar of his flapping coat. "Now--the manager, please." - -"This--this way, sir." With shrinking steps the clerk led Harper across -the width of the lobby among the fascinated guests. He was beyond -speech. Opening the inconspicuous door, he waved Harper inside and -returned doggedly to his desk, where he began to pick up things and at -the same time phrase his resignation in his mind. - -Brushing aside the startled secretary in the outer cubicle, Harper -flapped and shuffled straight into the inner sanctum. The manager, who -was busy chewing a cigar to shreds behind his fortress of gun metal -desk, jerked hastily upright and glared at the intruder. "My good -man--" he began. - -"Don't 'my-good-man' me!" snapped Harper. He glared back at the -manager. Reaching as far across the expanse of desktop as he could -stretch, he shook his puny fist. "Do you know who I am? I'm Harper -S. Breen, of Breen and Helgart, Incorporated! And do you know why I -haven't even a card to prove it? Do you know why I have to make my way -downstairs in garb that makes a laughing stock of me? Do you know why? -Because that assinine clerk of yours put me in the wrong room and those -damnable robots of yours then proceeded to make a prisoner of me! Me, -Harper S. Breen! Why, I'll sue you until you'll be lucky if you have a -sheet of writing-paper left in this idiot's retreat!" - -Hayes, the manager, blanched. Then he began to mottle in an apoplectic -pattern. And suddenly with a gusty sigh, he collapsed into his chair. -With a shaking hand he mopped his forehead. "_My_ robots!" he muttered. -"As if I invented the damned things!" - -Despondently he looked at Harper. "Go ahead and sue, Mr. Breen. If you -don't, somebody else will. And if nobody sues, we'll go broke anyway, -at the rate our guest list is declining. I'm ready to hand in my -resignation." - -Again he sighed. "The trouble," he explained, "is that those fool -robots are completely logical, and people aren't. There's no way to mix -the two. It's dynamite. Maybe people can gradually learn to live with -robots, but they haven't yet. Only we had to find it out the hard way. -We--" he grimaced disgustedly--"had to pioneer in the use of robots. -And it cost us so much that we can't afford to reconvert to human help. -So--Operation Robot is about to bankrupt the syndicate." - -Listening, an amazing calm settled on Harper. Thoughtfully now he -hooked a chair to the desk with his stockinged foot, sat down and -reached for the cigar that Hayes automatically offered him. "Oh, I -don't know," he said mildly. - -Hayes leaned forward like a drowning man sighting a liferaft. "What -do you mean, you don't know? You're threatening to take our shirts, -aren't you?" - -Meticulously Harper clipped and lit his cigar. "It seems to me that -these robots might be useful in quite another capacity. I might even -make a deal with your syndicate to take them off your hands--at a -reasonable price, of course--and forget the outrages I've suffered at -your establishment." - -Hayes leaned toward him incredulous. "You mean you want these robots -after what you've seen and experienced?" - -Placidly Harper puffed a smoke ring. "Of course, you'd have to take -into consideration that it would be an experiment for me, too. And -there's the suit I'm clearly justified in instituting. However, I'm -willing to discuss the matter with your superiors." - -With hope burgeoning for the first time in weeks, Hayes lifted his -head. "My dear Mr. Breen, to get rid of these pestiferous robots, I'll -back you to the hilt! I'll notify the owners at once. At once, Mr. -Breen! And while we wait for them, allow me to put you up as a guest of -the hotel." Coming around to Harper, he effusively shook Harp's scrawny -hand, and then personally escorted him not merely to the door but -across the lobby to the elevator. - -Harper gazed out at the stunned audience. This was more like the -treatment he was accustomed to! Haughtily he squared his bony shoulders -inside the immense jacket and stepped into the elevator. He was ready -for the second step of his private Operation Robot. - - * * * * * - -Back on Earth it was a warm, misty spring day--the kind of day unknown -to the planet Mars. Bella and Scribney, superb in new spring outfits, -waited restlessly while the rocket cooled and the passengers recovered -from deceleration. - -"Look, Scrib!" Bella clutched Scribney's substantial arm. "It's finally -opening." - -They watched the airlock open and the platform wheel into place. They -watched the passengers descend, looking a trifle dazed. - -"There he is!" cried Bella. "Why, doesn't he look wonderful! Scrib, -it's amazing! Look at him! - -And indeed, Harper was stepping briskly downward, looking spry and fit -and years younger. He came across to them actually beaming. It was the -first pleasant expression they had seen on his face in years. - -"Well, you old dog!" exclaimed Scribney affectionately. "So you did it -again!" - -Harper smirked. "Yep, I turned a neat little deal. I bought out -Hagerty's Enzymes and staffed the plant with the hotel's robots. Got -both of 'em dirt cheap. Both concerns going bankrupt because they -didn't have sense enough to swap their workers. Feel I owe you a bit -for that tip about enzymes, Scrib, so I made out a block of stock to -you. All right?" - -"All right?" Scribney gulped. Why, the dried-up little turnip was human -after all. "All right! Yes, sir! But aren't you going to use some of -those robots for office help? Aren't they efficient and all that?" - -Harper's smile vanished. "Don't even mention such a thing!" he yelped. -"You don't know what you're saying! I lived with those things for -weeks. I wouldn't have one around! Keep 'em in the factory where they -belong!" - -He glimpsed the composed, wonderfully human face of his secretary, -waiting patiently in the background. "Oh there you are, Smythe." He -turned to his relatives. "Busy day ahead. See you later, folks--" - -"Same old Harp," observed Scribney. Then he thought of the block of -stock. "What say we celebrate our rise to a position in the syndicate, -honey?" - -"Wonderful!" She squeezed his arm, and smiling at each other, they left -the port. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hagerty's Enzymes, by A. L. 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Haley. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hagerty's Enzymes, by A. L. Haley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Hagerty's Enzymes - -Author: A. L. Haley - -Release Date: November 3, 2020 [EBook #63616] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HAGERTY'S ENZYMES *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>HAGERTY'S ENZYMES</h1> - -<h2>By A. L. HALEY</h2> - -<p><i>There's a place for every man and a man for<br /> -every place, but on robot-harried Mars the<br /> -situation was just a little different.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1955.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Harper Breen sank down gingerly into the new Relaxo-Lounge. He placed -twitching hands on the arm-rests and laid his head back stiffly. He -closed his fluttering eyelids and clamped his mouth to keep the corner -from jumping.</p> - -<p>"Just lie back, Harp," droned his sister soothingly. "Just give in and -let go of everything."</p> - -<p>Harper tried to let go of everything. He gave in to the chair. And -gently the chair went to work. It rocked rhythmically, it vibrated -tenderly. With velvety cushions it massaged his back and arms and legs.</p> - -<p>For all of five minutes Harper stood it. Then with a frenzied lunge -he escaped the embrace of the Relaxo-Lounge and fled to a gloriously -stationary sofa.</p> - -<p>"Harp!" His sister, Bella, was ready to weep with exasperation. "Dr. -Franz said it would be just the thing for you! Why won't you give it a -trial?"</p> - -<p>Harper glared at the preposterous chair. "Franz!" he snarled. "That -prize fathead! I've paid him a fortune in fees. I haven't slept for -weeks. I can't eat anything but soup. My nerves are jangling like -a four-alarm fire. And what does he prescribe? A blasted jiggling -baby carriage! Why, I ought to send him the bill for it!" Completely -outraged, he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Now, Harp, you know you've never obeyed his orders. He told you -last year that you'd have to ease up. Why do you have to try to run -the whole world? It's the strain of all your business worries that's -causing your trouble. He told you to take a long vacation or you'd -crack up. Don't blame him for your own stubbornness."</p> - -<p>Harper snorted. His large nose developed the sound magnificently. -"Vacation!" he snorted. "Batting a silly ball around or dragging a hook -after a stupid fish! Fine activities for an intelligent middle-aged -man! And let me correct you. It isn't business worries that are driving -me to a crack-up. It's the strain of trying to get some sensible, -reasonable coöperation from the nincompoops I have to hire! It's the -idiocy of the human race that's got me whipped! It's the—"</p> - -<p>"Hey, Harp, old man!" His brother-in-law, turning the pages of the -new colorama magazine, INTERPLANETARY, had paused at a double-spread. -"Didn't you have a finger in those Martian equatorial wells they sunk -twenty years ago?"</p> - -<p>Harper's hands twitched violently. "Don't mention that fiasco!" he -rasped. "That deal nearly cost me my shirt! Water, hell! Those wells -spewed up the craziest conglomeration of liquids ever tapped!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Scribney, whose large, phlegmatic person and calm professorial brain -were the complete antithesis of Harper's picked-crow physique and -scheming financier's wits, looked severely over his glasses. Harp's -nervous tribulations were beginning to bore him, as well as interfere -with the harmony of his home.</p> - -<p>"You're away behind the times, Harp," he declared. "Don't you know -that those have proved to be the most astoundingly curative springs -ever discovered anywhere? Don't you know that a syndicate has built -the largest extra-terrestial hotel of the solar system there and that -people are flocking to it to get cured of whatever ails 'em? Old man, -you missed a bet!"</p> - -<p>Leaping from the sofa, Harper rudely snatched the magazine from -Scribney's hands. He glared at the spread which depicted a star-shaped -structure of bottle-green glass resting jewel-like on the rufous rock -of Mars. The main portion of the building consisted of a circular -skyscraper with a glass-domed roof. Between its star-shaped annexes, -other domes covered landscaped gardens and noxious pools which in the -drawing looked lovely and enticing.</p> - -<p>"Why, I remember now!" exclaimed Bella. "That's where the Durants went -two years ago! He was about dead and she looked like a hag. They came -back in wonderful shape. Don't you remember, Scrib?"</p> - -<p>Dutifully Scribney remembered and commented on the change the Martian -springs had effected in the Durants. "It's the very thing for you, -Harp," he advised. "You'd get a good rest on the way out. This gas -they use in the rockets nowadays is as good as a rest-cure; it sort of -floats you along the time-track in a pleasant daze, they tell me. And -you can finish the cure at the hotel while looking it over. And not -only that." Confidentially he leaned toward his insignificant looking -brother-in-law. "The chemists over at Dade McCann have just isolated an -enzyme from one species of Martian fungus that breaks down crude oil -into its components without the need for chemical processing. There's a -fortune waiting for the man who corners that fungus market and learns -to process the stuff!"</p> - -<p>Scribney had gauged his victim's mental processes accurately. The -magazine sagged in Harp's hands, and his sharp eyes became shrewd and -calculating. He even forgot to twitch. "Maybe you're right, Scrib," he -acknowledged. "Combine a rest-cure with business, eh?"</p> - -<p>Raising the magazine, he began reading the advertisement. And that -was when he saw the line about the robots. "—the only hotel staffed -entirely with robot servants—"</p> - -<p>"Robots!" he shrilled. "You mean they've developed the things to that -point? Why hasn't somebody told me? I'll have Jackson's hide! I'll -disfranchise him! I'll—"</p> - -<p>"Harp!" exploded Bella. "Stop it! Maybe Jackson doesn't know a thing -about it, whatever it is! If it's something at the Emerald Star Hotel, -why don't you just go and find out for yourself instead of throwing a -tantrum? That's the only sensible way!"</p> - -<p>"You're right, Bella," agreed Harper incisively. "I'll go and find out -for myself. Immediately!" Scooping up his hat, he left at his usual -lope.</p> - -<p>"Well!" remarked his sister. "All I can say is that they'd better turn -that happy-gas on extra strong for Harp's trip out!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The trip out did Harper a world of good. Under the influence of the -soporific gas that permeated the rocket, he really relaxed for the -first time in years, sinking with the other passengers into a hazy -lethargy with little sense of passing time and almost no memory of the -interval.</p> - -<p>It seemed hardly more than a handful of hours until they were strapping -themselves into deceleration hammocks for the landing. And then Harper -was waking with lassitude still heavy in his veins. He struggled out of -the hammock, made his way to the airlock, and found himself whisked by -pneumatic tube directly into the lobby of the Emerald Star Hotel.</p> - -<p>Appreciatively he gazed around at the half-acre of moss-gray carpeting, -green-tinted by the light sifting through the walls of Martian -copper-glass, and at the vistas of beautiful domed gardens framed by a -dozen arches. But most of all, the robots won his delighted approval.</p> - -<p>He could see at once that they had been developed to an amazingly high -state of perfection. How, he wondered again, had this been done without -his knowledge? Was Scrib right? Was he slipping? Gnawing at the doubt, -he watched the robots moving efficiently about, pushing patients in -wheelchairs, carrying trays, guiding newcomers, performing janitorial -duties tirelessly, promptly, and best of all, silently.</p> - -<p>Harper was enthralled. He'd staff his offices with them. Hang the -expense! There'd be no more of that obnoxious personal friction and -proneness to error that was always deviling the most carefully trained -office staffs! He'd investigate and find out the exact potentialities -of these robots while here, and then go home and introduce them into -the field of business. He'd show them whether he was slipping! Briskly -he went over to the desk.</p> - -<p>He was immediately confronted with a sample of that human obstinacy -that was slowly driving him mad. Machines, he sighed to himself. -Wonderful silent machines! For a woman was arguing stridently with the -desk clerk who, poor man, was a high strung fellow human instead of a -robot. Harper watched him shrinking and turning pale lavender in the -stress of the argument.</p> - -<p>"A nurse!" shouted the woman. "I want a nurse! A real woman! For what -you charge, you should be able to give me a television star if I want -one! I won't have another of those damnable robots in my room, do you -hear?"</p> - -<p>No one within the confines of the huge lobby could have helped hearing. -The clerk flinched visibly. "Now, Mrs. Jacobsen," he soothed. "You know -the hotel is staffed entirely with robots. They're much more expensive, -really, than human employees, but so much more efficient, you know. -Admit it, they give excellent service, don't they, now?" Toothily he -smiled at the enraged woman.</p> - -<p>"That's just it!" Mrs. Jacobsen glared. "The service is <i>too</i> good. -I might just as well have a set of push buttons in the room. I want -someone to <i>hear</i> what I say! I want to be able to change my mind once -in awhile!"</p> - -<p>Harper snorted. "Wants someone she can devil," he diagnosed. "Someone -she can get a kick out of ordering around." With vast contempt he -stepped to the desk beside her and peremptorily rapped for the clerk.</p> - -<p>"One moment, sir," begged that harassed individual. "Just one moment, -please." He turned back to the woman.</p> - -<p>But she had turned her glare on Harper. "You could at least be civil -enough to wait your turn!"</p> - -<p>Harper smirked. "My good woman, I'm not a robot. Robots, of course, -are always civil. But you should know by now that civility isn't a -normal human trait." Leaving her temporarily quashed, he beckoned -authoritatively to the clerk.</p> - -<p>"I've just arrived and want to get settled. I'm here merely for a -rest-cure, no treatments. You can assign my quarters before continuing -your—ah—discussion with the lady."</p> - -<p>The clerk sputtered. Mrs. Jacobsen sputtered. But not for nothing was -Harper one of the leading business executives of the earth. Harper's -implacable stare won his point. Wiping beads of moisture from his -forehead, the clerk fumbled for a card, typed it out, and was about to -deposit it in the punch box when a fist hit the desk a resounding blow -and another voice, male, roared out at Harper's elbow.</p> - -<p>"This is a helluva joint!" roared the voice. "Man could rot away to the -knees while he's waitin' for accommodations. Service!" Again his fist -banged the counter.</p> - -<p>The clerk jumped. He dropped Harper's card and had to stoop for it. -Absently holding it, he straightened up to face Mrs. Jacobsen and the -irate newcomer. Hastily he pushed a tagged key at Harper.</p> - -<p>"Here you are, Mr. Breen. I'm sure you'll find it comfortable." With a -pallid smile he pressed a button and consigned Harper to the care of a -silent and efficient robot.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The room was more than comfortable. It was beautiful. Its bank of clear -windows set in the green glass wall framed startling rubicund views of -the Martian hinterland where, Harper affectionately thought, fungi were -busy producing enzymes that were going to be worth millions for him and -his associates. There remained only the small detail of discovering how -to extract them economically and to process them on this more than arid -and almost airless planet. Details for his bright young laboratory men; -mere details....</p> - -<p>Leaving his luggage to be unpacked by the robot attendant, he went up -to the domed roof restaurant. Lunching boldly on broiled halibut with -consomme, salad and a bland custard, he stared out at the dark blue -sky of Mars, with Deimos hanging in the east in three-quarter phase -while Phobos raced up from the west like a meteor behind schedule. -Leaning back in his cushioned chair, he even more boldly lit a slim -cigar—his first in months—and inhaled happily. For once old Scribney -had certainly been right, he reflected. Yes sir, Scrib had rung the -bell, and he wasn't the man to forget it. With a wonderful sense of -well-being he returned to his room and prepared to relax.</p> - -<p>Harper opened his eyes. Two robots were bending over him. He saw that -they were dressed in white, like hospital attendants. But he had no -further opportunity to examine them. With brisk, well-co-ordinated -movements they wheeled a stretcher along-side his couch, stuck a hypo -into his arm, bundled him onto the stretcher and started wheeling him -out.</p> - -<p>Harper's tongue finally functioned. "What's all this?" he demanded. -"There's nothing wrong with me. Let me go!"</p> - -<p>He struggled to rise, but a metal hand pushed him firmly on the chest. -Inexorably it pushed him flat.</p> - -<p>"You've got the wrong room!" yelled Harp. "Let me go!" But the hypo -began to take effect. His yells became weaker and drowsier. Hazily, as -he drifted off, he thought of Mrs. Jacobsen. Maybe she had something, -at that.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was a tentative knock on the door. "Come in," called Harper -bleakly. As soon as the door opened he regretted his invitation, for -the opening framed the large untidy man who had noisily pounded on the -desk demanding service while he, Harp, was being registered.</p> - -<p>"Say, pardner," he said hoarsely, "you haven't seen any of them robots -around here, have you?"</p> - -<p>Harper scowled. "Oh, haven't I?" he grated. "Robots! Do you know what -they did to me." Indignation lit fires in his pale eyes. "Came in here -while I was lying down peacefully digesting the first meal I've enjoyed -in months, dragged me off to the surgery, and pumped it all out! The -only meal I've enjoyed in months!" Blackly he sank his chin onto his -fist and contemplated the outrage.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you stop 'em?" reasonably asked the visitor.</p> - -<p>"Stop a robot?" Harper glared pityingly. "How? You can't reason with -the blasted things. And as for using force—it's man against metal. You -try it!" He ground his teeth together in futile rage. "And to think I -had the insane notion that robots were the last word! Why, I was ready -to staff my offices with the things!"</p> - -<p>The big man placed his large hands on his own capacious stomach and -groaned. "I'm sure sorry it was you and not me, pardner. I could use -some of that treatment right now. Musta been that steak and onions I -ate after all that tundra dope I've been livin' on."</p> - -<p>"Tundra?" A faint spark of alertness lightened Harper's dull rage. "You -mean you work out here on the tundra?"</p> - -<p>"That's right. How'd you think I got in such a helluva shape? I'm -superintendent of one of the fungus plants. I'm Jake Ellis of Hagerty's -Enzymes. There's good money in it, but man, what a job! No air worth -mentionin'. Temperature always freezin' or below. Pressure suits. Huts. -Factory. Processed food. Nothin' else. Just nothin'. That's where they -could use some robots. It sure ain't no job for a real live man. And in -fact, there ain't many men left there. If old man Hagerty only knew it, -he's about out of business."</p> - -<p>Harper sat up as if he'd been needled. He opened his mouth to speak. -But just then the door opened briskly and two robots entered. With a -horrified stare, Harper clutched his maltreated stomach. He saw a third -robot enter, wheeling a chair.</p> - -<p>"A wheel chair!" squeaked the victim. "I tell you, there's nothing -wrong with me! Take it away! I'm only here for a rest-cure! Believe me! -Take it away!"</p> - -<p>The robots ignored him. For the first time in his spectacular and -ruthless career Harper was up against creatures that he could neither -bribe, persuade nor browbeat, inveigle nor ignore. It shattered his -ebbing self-confidence. He began waving his hands helplessly.</p> - -<p>The robots not only ignored Harper. They paid no attention at all to -Jake Ellis, who was plucking at their metallic arms pleading, "Take -me, boys. I need the treatment bad, whatever it is. I need all the -treatment I can get. Take me! I'm just a wreck, fellers—"</p> - -<p>Stolidly they picked Harper up, plunked him into the chair, strapped -him down and marched out with him.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Dejectedly Ellis returned to his own room. Again he lifted the receiver -of the room phone; but as usual a robot voice answered sweetly, -mechanically, and meaninglessly. He hung up and went miserably to bed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was something nagging at Harper's mind. Something he should do. -Something that concerned robots. But he was too exhausted to think it -out.</p> - -<p>For five days now his pet robots had put him through an ordeal that -made him flinch every time he thought about it. Which wasn't often, -since he was almost past thinking. They plunked him into stinking -mud-baths and held him there until he was well-done to the bone, he -was sure. They soaked him in foul, steaming irradiated waters until he -gagged. They brought him weird concoctions to eat and drink and then -stood over him until he consumed them. They purged and massaged and -exercised him.</p> - -<p>Whenever they let him alone, he simply collapsed into bed and slept. -There was nothing else to do anyway. They'd taken his clothes; and the -phone, after an announcement that he would have no more service for two -weeks, gave him nothing but a busy signal.</p> - -<p>"Persecution, that's what it is!" he moaned desperately. And he turned -his back to the mirror, which showed him that he was beginning to look -flesh-colored instead of the parchment yellow to which he had become -accustomed. He closed his mind to the fact that he was sleeping for -hours on end like the proverbial baby, and that he was getting such an -appetite that he could almost relish even that detestable mush they -sent him for breakfast. He was determined to be furious. As soon as he -could wake up enough to be.</p> - -<p>He hadn't been awake long this time before Jake Ellis was there again, -still moaning about his lack of treatments. "Nothin' yet," he gloomily -informed Harp. "They haven't been near me. I just can't understand it. -After I signed up for the works and paid 'em in advance! And I can't -find any way out of this section. The other two rooms are empty and the -elevator hasn't got any button. The robots just have to come and get a -man or he's stuck."</p> - -<p>"Stuck!" snarled Harp. "I'm never stuck! And I'm damned if I'll wait -any longer to break out of this—this jail! Listen, Jake. I've been -thinking. Or trying to, with what's left of me. You came in just when -that assinine clerk was registering me. I'll bet that clerk got rattled -and gave me the wrong key. I'll bet you're supposed to have this room -and I'm getting your treatments. Why don't we switch rooms and see what -happens?"</p> - -<p>"Say, maybe you're right!" Jake's eyes gleamed at last with hope. "I'll -get my clothes."</p> - -<p>Harp's eyebrows rose. "You mean they left you your clothes?"</p> - -<p>"Why, sure. You mean they took yours?"</p> - -<p>Harp nodded. An idea began to formulate. "Leave your things, will you? -I'm desperate! I'm going to see the manager of this madhouse if I have -to go down dressed in a sheet. Your clothes would be better than that."</p> - -<p>Jake, looking over Harper's skimpy frame, grunted doubtfully. "Maybe -you could tie 'em on so they wouldn't slip. And roll up the cuffs. It's -okay with me, but just don't lose something when you're down there in -that fancy lobby."</p> - -<p>Harper looked at his watch. "Time to go. Relax, old man. The robots -will be along any minute now. If you're the only man in the room, I'm -sure they'll take you. They aren't equipped to figure it out. And don't -worry about me. I'll anchor your duds all right."</p> - -<p>Harper had guessed right. Gleefully from the doorway of his new room -he watched the robots wheel away his equally delighted neighbor for -his first treatment. Then he closed the door and began to don Jake's -clothing.</p> - -<p>The result was unique. He looked like a small boy in his father's -clothes, except for the remarkably aged and gnome-like head sticking -up on a skinny neck from a collar three sizes too big. And he was -shoeless. He was completely unable to navigate in Jake's number -twelves. But Harper was a determined man. He didn't even flinch from -his image in the mirror. Firmly he stepped over to Jake's telephone. -"This is room 618," he said authoritatively. "Send up the elevator for -me. I want to go down to the lobby."</p> - -<p>He'd guessed right again. "It will be right up, sir," responded the -robot operator. Hopefully he stepped out into the hall and shuffled to -the elevator.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Only the robots were immune to Harper Breen's progress across the huge -suave lobby.</p> - -<p>He was a blot on its rich beauty, a grotesque enigma that rooted the -other visitors into paralyzed staring groups. Stepping out of the -elevator, he had laid a course for the desk which loomed like an island -in a moss-gray lake, and now he strode manfully toward it, ignoring the -oversize trousers slapping around his stocking feet. Only the robots -shared his self control.</p> - -<p>The clerk was the first to recover from the collective stupor. -Frantically he pushed the button that would summon the robot guard. -With a gasp of relief he saw the two massive manlike machines moving -inexorably forward. He pointed to Harper. "Get that patient!" he -ordered. "Take him to the—to the mud-baths!"</p> - -<p>"No you don't!" yelled Harper. "I want to see the manager!" Nimbly he -circled the guard and leaped behind the desk. He began to throw things -at the robots. Things like inkwells and typewriters and card indexes. -Especially, card indexes.</p> - -<p>"Stop it!" begged the clerk. "You'll wreck the system! We'll never get -it straight again! Stop it!"</p> - -<p>"Call them off!" snarled Harper. "Call them off or I'll ruin your -switchboard!" He put a shoulder against it and prepared to heave.</p> - -<p>With one last appalled glare at the madman, the clerk picked up an -electric finger and pointed it at the approaching robots. They became -oddly inanimate.</p> - -<p>"That's better!" Harper straightened up and meticulously smoothed the -collar of his flapping coat. "Now—the manager, please."</p> - -<p>"This—this way, sir." With shrinking steps the clerk led Harper across -the width of the lobby among the fascinated guests. He was beyond -speech. Opening the inconspicuous door, he waved Harper inside and -returned doggedly to his desk, where he began to pick up things and at -the same time phrase his resignation in his mind.</p> - -<p>Brushing aside the startled secretary in the outer cubicle, Harper -flapped and shuffled straight into the inner sanctum. The manager, who -was busy chewing a cigar to shreds behind his fortress of gun metal -desk, jerked hastily upright and glared at the intruder. "My good -man—" he began.</p> - -<p>"Don't 'my-good-man' me!" snapped Harper. He glared back at the -manager. Reaching as far across the expanse of desktop as he could -stretch, he shook his puny fist. "Do you know who I am? I'm Harper -S. Breen, of Breen and Helgart, Incorporated! And do you know why I -haven't even a card to prove it? Do you know why I have to make my way -downstairs in garb that makes a laughing stock of me? Do you know why? -Because that assinine clerk of yours put me in the wrong room and those -damnable robots of yours then proceeded to make a prisoner of me! Me, -Harper S. Breen! Why, I'll sue you until you'll be lucky if you have a -sheet of writing-paper left in this idiot's retreat!"</p> - -<p>Hayes, the manager, blanched. Then he began to mottle in an apoplectic -pattern. And suddenly with a gusty sigh, he collapsed into his chair. -With a shaking hand he mopped his forehead. "<i>My</i> robots!" he muttered. -"As if I invented the damned things!"</p> - -<p>Despondently he looked at Harper. "Go ahead and sue, Mr. Breen. If you -don't, somebody else will. And if nobody sues, we'll go broke anyway, -at the rate our guest list is declining. I'm ready to hand in my -resignation."</p> - -<p>Again he sighed. "The trouble," he explained, "is that those fool -robots are completely logical, and people aren't. There's no way to mix -the two. It's dynamite. Maybe people can gradually learn to live with -robots, but they haven't yet. Only we had to find it out the hard way. -We—" he grimaced disgustedly—"had to pioneer in the use of robots. -And it cost us so much that we can't afford to reconvert to human help. -So—Operation Robot is about to bankrupt the syndicate."</p> - -<p>Listening, an amazing calm settled on Harper. Thoughtfully now he -hooked a chair to the desk with his stockinged foot, sat down and -reached for the cigar that Hayes automatically offered him. "Oh, I -don't know," he said mildly.</p> - -<p>Hayes leaned forward like a drowning man sighting a liferaft. "What -do you mean, you don't know? You're threatening to take our shirts, -aren't you?"</p> - -<p>Meticulously Harper clipped and lit his cigar. "It seems to me that -these robots might be useful in quite another capacity. I might even -make a deal with your syndicate to take them off your hands—at a -reasonable price, of course—and forget the outrages I've suffered at -your establishment."</p> - -<p>Hayes leaned toward him incredulous. "You mean you want these robots -after what you've seen and experienced?"</p> - -<p>Placidly Harper puffed a smoke ring. "Of course, you'd have to take -into consideration that it would be an experiment for me, too. And -there's the suit I'm clearly justified in instituting. However, I'm -willing to discuss the matter with your superiors."</p> - -<p>With hope burgeoning for the first time in weeks, Hayes lifted his -head. "My dear Mr. Breen, to get rid of these pestiferous robots, I'll -back you to the hilt! I'll notify the owners at once. At once, Mr. -Breen! And while we wait for them, allow me to put you up as a guest of -the hotel." Coming around to Harper, he effusively shook Harp's scrawny -hand, and then personally escorted him not merely to the door but -across the lobby to the elevator.</p> - -<p>Harper gazed out at the stunned audience. This was more like the -treatment he was accustomed to! Haughtily he squared his bony shoulders -inside the immense jacket and stepped into the elevator. He was ready -for the second step of his private Operation Robot.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Back on Earth it was a warm, misty spring day—the kind of day unknown -to the planet Mars. Bella and Scribney, superb in new spring outfits, -waited restlessly while the rocket cooled and the passengers recovered -from deceleration.</p> - -<p>"Look, Scrib!" Bella clutched Scribney's substantial arm. "It's finally -opening."</p> - -<p>They watched the airlock open and the platform wheel into place. They -watched the passengers descend, looking a trifle dazed.</p> - -<p>"There he is!" cried Bella. "Why, doesn't he look wonderful! Scrib, -it's amazing! Look at him!</p> - -<p>And indeed, Harper was stepping briskly downward, looking spry and fit -and years younger. He came across to them actually beaming. It was the -first pleasant expression they had seen on his face in years.</p> - -<p>"Well, you old dog!" exclaimed Scribney affectionately. "So you did it -again!"</p> - -<p>Harper smirked. "Yep, I turned a neat little deal. I bought out -Hagerty's Enzymes and staffed the plant with the hotel's robots. Got -both of 'em dirt cheap. Both concerns going bankrupt because they -didn't have sense enough to swap their workers. Feel I owe you a bit -for that tip about enzymes, Scrib, so I made out a block of stock to -you. All right?"</p> - -<p>"All right?" Scribney gulped. Why, the dried-up little turnip was human -after all. "All right! Yes, sir! But aren't you going to use some of -those robots for office help? Aren't they efficient and all that?"</p> - -<p>Harper's smile vanished. "Don't even mention such a thing!" he yelped. -"You don't know what you're saying! I lived with those things for -weeks. I wouldn't have one around! Keep 'em in the factory where they -belong!"</p> - -<p>He glimpsed the composed, wonderfully human face of his secretary, -waiting patiently in the background. "Oh there you are, Smythe." He -turned to his relatives. "Busy day ahead. See you later, folks—"</p> - -<p>"Same old Harp," observed Scribney. Then he thought of the block of -stock. "What say we celebrate our rise to a position in the syndicate, -honey?"</p> - -<p>"Wonderful!" She squeezed his arm, and smiling at each other, they left -the port.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hagerty's Enzymes, by A. L. 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