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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..193fe25 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65013 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65013) diff --git a/old/65013-0.txt b/old/65013-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 68caf7a..0000000 --- a/old/65013-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1664 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of One for the Robot--Two for the Same, by Rog -Phillips - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: One for the Robot--Two for the Same - -Author: Rog Phillips - -Release Date: April 07, 2021 [eBook #65013] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE FOR THE ROBOT--TWO FOR THE -SAME *** - - - - - ONE FOR THE ROBOT--TWO FOR THE SAME - - By ROG PHILLIPS - - The ingredients were simple: one man for - one robot. But the results were something else! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy - October 1950 - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -I took an instinctive disliking to him from the very first. I don't -know exactly what caused it. His appearance? He wore a well tailored -gray plaid suit draped on what I would have sworn to be nothing but -a skeleton. Blue-veined skin fitted over the exposed parts, such as -his long slender hands, folded together on his lap, the stretch of -bare leg below the cuffs of his perfectly pressed trousers and above -his carelessly drooped sox, his turkey-like neck with its large -Adam's apple threatened at any moment to wobble up and down while a -gobble-gobble-gobble burst forth. - -His face? It made me think of a broken handled cup inverted on a -saucer, the edge of the saucer being his jaw line. If you were to wrap -the cup and saucer in tightly stretched dull white plastic or rubber -sheeting and paint eyes in the proper places you would have it down pat. - -Maybe it was the eyes that made me dislike him. They were faded blue, -but not the kind you would call characterless. It would be more -accurate to call them emotionless. Not emotionless in a cold way, but -in a dead way. - -On either side of his head were cartilages shaped like ears, and over -the top of his head faded and lifeless grey hair parted with artificial -neatness. - -Those were my impressions, though the hair was real enough, and I might -have seen him through different eyes if I had been in a better mood. - -He wore his suit like it didn't belong to him, or if it did he very -seldom had one on. I looked closely at him, sitting near me on the park -bench half turned toward where I was slouched, trying to imagine what -type of clothes would be natural to him; all I could conjure up was a -white frock and rubber gloves and a white face mask. - -He had asked me, "Are you employed?", and I had swallowed an impulse -to snap at him long enough to size him up. - -So now I had sized him up. I didn't like anything about him. But a -civil answer to his question might lead to the price of a badly needed -meal. I forced a polite grin. - -"Not at the moment," I said. - -"I surmised as much," he said quickly, smirking. His voice had the -quality of a high school chemistry teacher talking to an audience of -sulphuric acid carboys. - -I turned away, looking out across the expanse of lawn and trees and -flower beds of the park to where the double decker busses bobbed along -like water bugs above the carpet of cars flowing along the inner drive. -The impatient honking of tired motorists on their way home after their -day's work mingled with the contented quacking of ducks on the pond at -my back. - -"Would you like to earn some money?" - -"Huh?" I said, jerking my attention back to him. - -His smile was the kind a professor would give to a pupil who had just -awakened from a sound sleep. - -"I said, would you like to earn some money?" - -"Uh, uh," I said. "I'm hungry. I'd mow your lawn on an empty stomach -and get maybe fifty cents. That's one hamburger and two cups of coffee. -I'd still be hungry." - -Instead of answering, he reached one of his blue-veined hands inside -his coat and drew out a new looking black leather billfold. I watched -him while he pulled out a thick sheaf of currency. - -He carefully counted out ten twenty dollar bills, dropping them one by -one in a neat pile on the park bench. He stuck the rest back in his -billfold and took out a white glossy card, dropping it on the pile of -bills. - -Then, smirking, he stood up and turned his back on me, slowly walking -down the path that wound up onto a bridge over the duck pond, without -looking back. - -I waited until he was out of sight, then picked up the card and read -the name printed on it in raised green lettering: Dr. Leopold Moriss. - - * * * * * - -I had a hamburger and two cups of coffee in a place where they'd never -seen me before. It would have been too hard to explain a twenty dollar -bill. Afterward I rented a room and soaked some of the accumulated dirt -out of my pores. - -Next morning I bought a new suit and the things that go with it. By -noon I was wearing a hundred of that two hundred dollars. Most of the -rest was in my pocket. - -Everything was fine, except that Dr. Leopold Moriss' smirking bloodless -lips and dead eyes, framed by his skin-covered jaw kept dancing before -me, taunting me, daring me to use that money without eventually showing -up to earn it. - -I began to dislike him even more intensely. Instead of having lunch I -went into a cocktail lounge and had a few Bourbons straight. When their -warmth began to soak in Dr. Leopold's smirking face faded. - -It came back, though, and with it came his classroom voice. - -"_I don't know who you are_," it taunted. "_If you never show up I -can't find you, can't do anything about it._" Its tones were laughing, -knowing, goading. I drank. The face faded, the voice became inaudible. - -Three days later, and God knows how many quarts, I took that drink -every alcoholic dreads--the one you can't keep down. - -I awoke a long time later and opened my eyes. Something vaguely -like the desk clerk was hovering over me. A loud voice was pounding -unmercifully against my tortured ears. - -"Come on, get up and get out of here, you filthy bum," it was shouting. -"We've got no rooms for the likes of you in this hotel." - -I shook my head to clear away the fog over my eyes. The indignant face -of a maid was staring at me. - -"You ought to be ashamed," she said shrilly, "vomiting on the rug! -Where do you think you are, in the park?" - -"Get a wet towel and bring him to," the desk clerk ordered.... - -I reached the precarious footing of the sidewalk with a feeling that I -had been rushed too much, and with the afternoon sun ejecting fiery red -shafts of searing pain into my brain through my punctured eye-balls. - -People were staring at me as they passed. In an attempt to appear -casual I stuck my hands in my pockets. The fingers of my right hand -encountered something stiff, with sharp corners. - -Swaying to maintain my balance, and casually whistling snatches of some -nameless tune, I pulled the thing out and held it up where I could -focus my eyes on it. It was Dr. Leopold Moriss' card. - -I managed an uncertain about face and thumbed my nose at the entrance -to the hotel; only it was my ear, and my thumb bumped it so painfully -that the pleasure I had anticipated at my insult was destroyed. - -When my consciousness settled into enough stability to be aware of -outside impressions once more, I was in a taxi, bumping along a -cobblestone street. There were no springs on the cab, and the back of -the driver's head sneered at me and dared me to open the door and jump -to my death. - -I wondered where I was being taken. Then my eyes caught the white -rectangle still held in my fingers. The doctor's card. So I was on my -way at last. - -On my way? I was there! The taxi had swerved abruptly to the curb and -stopped. I slid forward off the seat. When the driver came around and -opened the door I managed to get up on my knees. That was all. - -He opened the door and stood there patiently. I studied the sidewalk -and tried to figure out how to make it from the position I was in. I -gave up, and appealed to him with my eyes. - -"Here we go," he said good naturedly, lifting me out and balancing me -carefully on my feet. "The fare is a buck eighty-five." - -"Help me up the steps," I said, stalling. I was trying to remember if I -had any money left. I had a strong suspicion I hadn't. - -His hands held me up and pushed me across the walk and up the steps -while I fumbled in a fruitless search of my pockets. - -At the top of the steps my fingers encountered the cool smoothness -of a piece of paper in my coat pocket. I pulled it out and held it up -to the driver. He steadied me against the frame of the door. Then he -counted out change, closing my fingers over the money. - -The sound of the taxi pulling away from the curb let me know I was on -my own. It was a diminishing yellow spot far down the street. - -The door frame was white set in brick. The door was stained oak. I -reached out to lift the knocker and saw I had a fist full of money. I -reached out with the other hand. It had the card in it. I hooked the -little finger under the knocker and lifted it, letting it fall. It -emitted a feeble tap. - -After a while I saw the door moving inward. Pausing in my futile -stabbing for my pockets, I lifted my eyes slowly, beginning with the -shapely hips encased in spotlessly clean watermelon red, past the slim -waist with its black belt, pausing at the firm lift of the breast, -jumping to the smooth neck, and finally coming to the face with its -smooth contours, red lips, blue eyes lit with questioning curiosity, -and iridescent waves of spun brown hair. - -Not daring to talk, I mutely held out the card. - - * * * * * - -Her graceful curves of eyebrows lifted just a trifle as she looked at -the card. Then her eyes surveyed me again, quickly. - -"Won't you please come in?" she asked, stepping backward invitingly. - -I went past her with an attempt at dignity. The door closed behind -me. Her feet tapped pertly on the foyer floor as she went past me and -opened another door. - -"Wait in here Mr. Stevens," she said, her voice rich in velvet -overtones. "I'll tell my father you're here." - -I ducked my head at her in acquiescence and went past her into the -room, a luxurious library. - -The door closed softly as I dropped into the soft enfoldment of a -pillow-lined barrel chair. Abruptly I sat up, staring at the blank face -of the closed door, my eyes large and round. - -She had called me by name! - -I was still staring at the door when it jerked open. Dr. Leopold Moriss -strode in closing it after him, his steps and motions jerky and swift. - -"Well, well, well," he said. "So you came after all." - -"How did your daughter know my name?" I asked. - -His shoulders arched back in a gesture of amusement. - -"She should know," he said. "I've done nothing but talk about January -Stevens this and January Stevens that for the past two months." - -"Two months?" I echoed dumbly. - -"The detective agency I put on the job of finding you did an almost -impossible job," he went on, in high good humor. "They followed you -from the time you moved out of your bachelor apartment three years -ago, to Los Angeles, Seattle, through Kansas, and right back here to -Chicago again. When they found you they came and got me, and pointed -you out to me in the park." - -"I don't get it," I said, bewildered. "That kind of a search would -cost plenty. After paying that kind of dough I can understand your -willingness to throw two hundred after it in a--childish gesture. But -why? Since you know me, you must know I was kicked out of the Bentley -Research Laboratories because I refused to account for five thousand -dollars of research funds." - -"I know more than that," Dr. Leopold Moriss said, crisp sureness in his -tones. - -"What do you mean?" I asked woodenly. - -"Let's just say for the present, January," he said, "that I know why -you refused to account for those funds." - -"Let's just say goodbye," I said, staggering to my feet. I started for -the door. - -"Sit down, you drunken bum," he said. - -"Why you--" I snarled, turning toward him sober with rage, my fingers -constricting. - -He sat there, grinning at me, undisturbed by my threatening posture. As -if to flaunt his unconcern in my face he took out a long cigar and lit -it nonchalantly. - -I stared into his lifeless eyes through the screen of freshly -generated blue smoke and sat down slowly. - -He looked back at me, his face expressionless behind the cigar. My rage -subsided gradually. - -"That's better," he said finally. From that moment I hated him. - -Then the door opened. The girl in the watermelon red dress entered, -wheeling a tray crowded with white sandwiches, green pickles and -steaming black coffee. - -I scowled at the dream from heaven pushing the service cart, a friendly -smile on her red lips, feeling a sense of defeat, of being crowded into -a corner. - -"No thanks," I said harshly. "My stomach couldn't hold even the coffee -right now." I jerked my eyes away from hers, past Dr. Leopold Moriss, -to the curtains on the windows. - -"Get him a big glass of half tomato juice half grapefruit juice," the -doctor said. "He can hold that down. It'll make him feel better." - -I continued to hold my eyes on the curtains, but I knew that I was -licked. Whipped. Beaten into submission. When I heard the pert -footsteps return and felt the cold roundness of the glass against my -hand, I turned and looked up into her smiling, sympathetic eyes. - -"Thanks," I said gruffly. - - * * * * * - -The cold liquid stayed down, soothing the raw walls of my stomach. I -half closed my eyes, experiencing the first pleasant body sensation -since the warm glow of that first drink three or four days before. - -I watched shapely legs below the swishing dress as they went across -the room to a desk. When they returned I looked up to see a cigarette -between fingernails the same shade of red as the dress. I followed the -slender fingers to the slim wrist, up the graceful, slightly tanned arm -to the short sleeve, and from there my eyes jumped to her smiling red -lips. - -"I'm Paula, January," she said. - -"Oh yes, January," Dr. Moriss' voice broke in. "This is my daughter, -Paula. Her mother died many years ago. There's just the two of us, -besides the handyman." - -I took the cigarette from her fingers without taking my eyes away from -her face. She snapped a lighter and lit it the same way. I inhaled -deeply, letting the smoke out slowly. - -"Glad to know you, Paula," I murmured. - -"I think you'd better leave us now, Paula," Dr. Moriss broke in in his -school teacher voice. "January Stevens and I have a lot to discuss." - -"We can talk later, if at all," I turned on him angrily. "Two or three -days from now, after my stomach will hold food down." - -"We'll talk now," he said with maddening calmness. "Three days from now -you'll have had time to think. You'll refuse to talk. Just like you let -yourself be branded a thief rather than talk before." - -I reached out and picked up a cup of coffee from the tray. With slow -deliberation I poured the black liquid into the empty glass that had -held my tomato and grapefruit juice. There was a large plate glass -mirror on the wall across the room. I threw the empty cup at it without -rising from my chair. The mirror shattered. - -Dr. Moriss looked back and forth from me to the broken mirror, like a -spectator at a tennis match, the same kind of interest portrayed on his -face. - -"Why did you do that?" Paula asked, her eyes flashing fire. - -"He did it because he likes you, Paula," the doctor's maddeningly -unperturbed voice said. "If he didn't like you he would have thrown it -at me." He puffed mockingly at his cigar, his eyes squinting through -the smoke. - -"You _are_ expensive to know, January," Paula purred. The sound of her -heels on the bare floor near the door jerked my eyes from Dr. Moriss' -face. - -"Don't leave," I said hastily. - -"Why?" Paula asked, turning, her hand still on the knob. - -"Because--" her father began. - -"Shut up!" I snapped. "I'll tell her myself. Because if you do I might -kill your father before I walk out of here." - -Dr. Moriss nodded agreement, puffing contentedly, his features mocking -me through the haze. - -"He's afraid, Paula," he said abruptly. "It's the same fear that made -him destroy his research and all the bills for materials and his notes, -and let them smirch his name." He lifted on his elbows and leaned -toward me. "The same fear that made you an alcoholic bum, January. But -I'm going to get under that fear and find out what you discovered." - -"You think so?" I sneered, my voice sounding reedy to my ears. - -"Yes," he said. "You see, I've got to. I know everything you -know--except what made you afraid." - -"You think so?" I repeated monotonously. - -"Yes," he matched my monotony. "Everything except that. I'll prove it -to you. I know how you built the synthetic brain. I know how you built -the robot body. I even know how you charged the brain. I even know that -that Boston Bull Terrier pet you had at your feet while they questioned -you, and which followed you out the door when you left, disgraced, _was -not a living creature_!" - -I lifted my hands and looked at them. They were trembling so much their -outlines were blurred. - -"Show him to his room," Dr. Leopold Moriss said suddenly. "Keep a -generous supply of grapefruit and tomato juice near him." - -"You heard what the man said." Paula soothed gently, tugging at the -shoulder of my coat. - -At the door I turned ponderously. Dr. Moriss was sitting there, his -eyes on me, puffing at his cigar. Dully I turned away, following Paula -into the hall. The door closed.... - - * * * * * - -The bed was soft. The kind you sink down into, surrounded by billowing -piles of shiny pink satin, fluffy orchid wool, white sheets, and an -atmosphere of apple blossoms, with your head resting on down softer and -warmer than your mother's breast. - -The pajamas were new and my size, obviously bought in anticipation of -my showing up. - -I stood teetering in the middle of the bedroom, looking at them, the -sound of water running into a tub coming from the adjoining bathroom. -Tears forced themselves into my eyes. Hot scalding tears. - -Paula stood less than three feet from me, an eager expression on her -face, like a Spaniel wiggling in expectation of voiced approval. - -I turned and staggered blindly toward the door. I wanted to get out. -I felt strangled. I couldn't breathe, couldn't possibly get another -breath of air until I got out of this house and felt my feet on God's -pavement again. I fumbled for the knob, groaning in frantic desperation -to escape. - -My fingers settled around the knob. I jerked the door open and started -out into the hall. - -The placid face of a man twice my size, radiating peace and good will, -blocked the doorway. I blinked at him blearily, backing away a step or -two. He blinked back like a simpleton trying to understand geometry. - -"Oh, January," Paula said behind me. "This is Carl Friedman, our -Jack-of-all-work." - -"Pleased to meet you, January," the giant said, sounding like an -uncouth character concentrating on not saying pleeze t'meetcha. - -My snarl was purely animal as I slammed the door on him and turned back -into the room. I stood there, swaying and holding my head for a minute. - -"All right," I gave up. "Get out. I'll take a nice warm bath and bury -myself in apple blossoms. Then you can bring me some grapefruit juice -and radiate at me like a harvest moon. Only get this straight. I hate -your old man. I hate him more every minute." - -"That's all right," Paula said, going to the door and opening it. "I -hate him too--sometimes." - -Carl backed away far enough for her to get out. She flashed me a -sympathetic smile. The door closed. I was alone. With the smell of -apple blossoms. And my hate. - -I took off my clothes and climbed into the tub. The temperature was -just right. I sighed in reluctant contentment, splashing around a -little to help the warmth soak in. - -"What made you afraid, January?" Dr. Moriss' voice came from the -doorway. - -I catapulted to my feet, water cascading off my body over the edge of -the tub onto the floor. Glaring at him I carefully stepped out of the -tub, my hands working in choking motions. - -He watched me with that air of detached interest he would have used in -observing the motions of a monkey in a zoo. I glared at him another -moment, then turned my back on him, drying myself with the thick -turkish towel. - -"What made you afraid, January?" It was patient repetition, insistent -and unemotional. A school teacher repeating a question to a stubborn -pupil. - -I ignored it. When I finished drying and turned to go out, he was gone. - -There was a pitcher of bright red liquid with ice cubes floating in -it on the table by the bed, and a glass of it already poured sitting -beside it. I splashed it down my throat with loud swallows, struggled -into the pajamas, and slid under the covers. It seemed only an instant -later-- - -"What made you afraid, January?" When I opened my eyes the hand shaking -my shoulder stopped. "What made you afraid, January?" - -I stared without answering. Finally I closed my eyes to blot out that -serene disinterested, hateful face. When I opened them again it was -gone. I cursed with the vocabulary of the scum from New York to San -Francisco. His psychological game was obvious, now. He hoped to wear me -down, drive me to the point where I would tell him what I would never -tell anyone, as the price of peace. He'd wake me again as soon as I -fell asleep. He'd wake me again and again and again. And again.... - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -"Go 'way," I murmured drowsily. - -"What made you afraid, January? What made you afraid?" - - * * * * * - -No one but an alcoholic could possibly know how I suffered. With -every cell in my body crying out in agony the only relief was the -unconsciousness of sleep. Sleep, that welcomed me only to toss me back -into the hell of consciousness and that mad, unemotionally reiterated -question. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -I grew to hate every syllable, every unvarying intonation and -inflection. I began to force myself to stay awake each time, scheming -ways to murder Dr. Leopold Moriss. - -I dreamed of him with his throat cut, going down, puffing unconcernedly -on his cigar while his throat spurted out his life's blood. I dreamed -of him falling to the sidewalk outside my window. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -I dreamed I was raining blow after blow on his battered head while -he sagged slowly to the floor, his face that of an unemotional, -disinterested automaton. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -I sucked in my breath. A moment later I heard the soft closing of the -door. I opened my eyes. The room was empty. - -Slipping cautiously out of bed I took the pitcher of tomato juice to -the bathroom and emptied it in the wash basin, then returned to bed -with it, placing it under my pillows in such a way that I could bring -it out and strike without warning. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -I opened my eyes abruptly. The face above me bent closer suddenly, -noting my new reaction. - -My hand was around the handle of the heavy glass pitcher. I drew in -a deep breath. With convulsive movement I struck, only to feel the -pitcher caught and pulled from my fingers. - -"I noticed it was gone," the doctor said calmly. "I'll get it filled -again for you." - -The door closed softly. I sobbed in angry frustration, in hopeless -protest. In murderous hate, for I knew that Dr. Leopold Moriss' every -move and every word were coldly calculated, directed toward one goal. -To break me down. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -My mind skidded through vast spaces to jar into its cradle of pain. I -opened my eyes. There was a glass of red fluid hovering in front of my -eyes, the doctor's fingers around it. I brought the back of my hand -against where it had been. It had bobbed up so that I missed. The -action half turned me on my face. - -I stayed that way. There was the careful sound of the glass being set -on the table, the sound of the door closing. With a deep sigh I turned -on my back again. - -There must be a way out. There had to be a way out. All I had to do was -think about it, if I could think through the torture of my body. One -thing I knew: I would never tell him what he wanted to know. Not to -escape a thousand years of torture. - -I sat up and drank the glass of tomato juice. The empty glass slipped -out of my fingers to the floor, landing with a dull thud on the rug. -Getting out of bed, I went into the bathroom and washed my face in cold -water. - -There had to be a way out. Maybe I could tell him a lie that would -satisfy him. But what lie would satisfy him? What, other than the -truth, could satisfy him? - -I looked in the bathroom mirror at my unshaven, tortured features, my -bloodshot eyes, my rats-nest of uncombed hair. And slowly I saw a smile -crease my lips, distorting my face. I knew a lie he would accept as the -truth--if I played it right. - -I had to play it right. Just as there was only one truth, there was -only one lie he would accept as the truth. If I failed to make him -accept it I was licked. - -How does an actor play his part? He lives it, believes it. I had to do -that. I must keep repeating the lie in my mind, believing it, repeating -it. Then I must _break down_ in the way my torturer expected me to. - -I snapped off the light in the bathroom and struggled back to bed. - - * * * * * - -When I awoke, blinding white sunlight was bursting into the room from -between half closed slats in the Venetian blinds, sending searing pain -through my dehydrated eyes into my aching brain. A window was half open -behind the blinds. A bird was singing just outside the window, its song -a shrill, jarring discordance to my tortured eardrums. - -I looked blankly around the room, feeling that something was missing. -The sight of the pitcher with its red liquid, and the glass beside it, -brought back memory. What was missing was Dr. Leopold Moriss standing -over me asking his eternal question. - -I cursed in a low mumble, hating him for even that. He had kept up his -torture until I figured out something, and had ended it before I could -put my plan into action. He was a dancing, taunting opponent who struck -painful blows with ease, and danced out of reach when I found a way to -fight back. - -"Shut up!" I shouted at the bird, and felt a small sense of triumph -when it obeyed. - -Getting out of bed, I went to the door and opened it cautiously. There -was no one outside. From somewhere in the house came the all too -familiar sound of Dr. Moriss' voice. It was interrupted by Paula's, -raised angrily. I left my door open, sneaking along the hall to the -head of the stairs, until I could make out what was being said. - -"... stop torturing him," Paula's voice came, angry and insistent. - -"It's the only way, Paula," the doctor's voice said, as unperturbed as -ever, even in the face of his daughter's obvious anger. "A fear that -silences a man, makes him remain silent while his employers brand him a -thief and blackball him from his profession, that drives him down the -road to alcoholism, can't be broken down with kindness nor anything -less than complete destruction of his ability to fight." - -"It isn't human!" Paula's voice shot back. "If you keep it up -I'll--I'll hate you as much as January does, even though you are my -father." - -"I won't have to keep it up much longer," her father replied, and for -the first time I heard a note of human emotion in his tones. "When he -breaks down and gets the load off his mind he'll get over the past few -years and be himself again. I think you're half falling for him. It -wouldn't be any good being married to an alcoholic who is incurable -because he's hiding the thing that made him an alcoholic to begin with." - -His next words shocked their way into my startled thoughts. - -"But my motive isn't that humanitarian and you know it," he said, -returning to his school-teacherish, lecturing voice. "I've repeated -January's experiments. Out in my laboratory I have the completed and -tested robot body exactly like my own, all ready for the transfer of my -mind. I could go out there right this minute, and come in again in less -than half an hour in that immortal mechanical body. But I don't dare to -_until I find out what made January afraid_." - -My turbulent thoughts settled into a state of wondering confusion. -If he had gone that far why didn't he know what had made me afraid? -Could it be--? Suddenly I knew! He hadn't discovered that _one last -refinement_. That was it! I felt like laughing. But my attention was -jerked back to the conversation below. - -"I don't care," Paula's voice said doggedly. "I don't care if you -never finish. It's inhuman anyway--to discard the body you were born -in and transfer the electronic pattern of your mind and consciousness -to a mass of non-living colloid dielectric perched inside the head of -a robot made of stainless steel bones, plastic muscles, and copper -nerves. You've got to stop torturing January." - -"I won't have to after a couple more hours," Dr. Moriss said. "I'm -going to wake him up and get him to drink some of that tomato juice -with a little seasoning in it designed to make him sicker than he is. -A few glasses of that and pounding my repeated question at him a few -more times should do it." - -I stole back to my room and grinned at the tomato juice. Did you ever -put a jigsaw together and get a flash of insight that made the pieces -fall into place suddenly, completing the puzzle almost by itself? That -pitcher of tomato juice was the last piece. Everything fit, including -that. - -I would be able to tell my lie, and make Dr. Leopold Moriss believe -it. Then--I would _help_ him. My wild laughter burst into my ears. By -an effort of will I shut it off and climbed back into bed, simulating -sleep, my ears tuned for the first sound of the doctor's coming. - - * * * * * - -The door opened. After a moment of suspense during which I kept my -breathing slow and deep it closed softly. Padded footsteps came across -the rug. - -"January!" The doctor's voice was impersonal and insistent. His hand -was gripped on my shoulder, shaking me. "Why were you afraid, January?" - -I kept my eyes closed for a moment, mumbling protests. Inside I was -laughing to myself, gloatingly. His voice was no longer torture. It was -the senseless repetition of a parrot. - -Suddenly it angered me. I opened my eyes, glaring, a corner of my mind -thrilling to the beautiful way my emotions were giving authenticity to -my acting. - -"Why are you afraid, January?" the doctor repeated, his calm face -hovering above me. - -I shoved his hand away, sneering at him, and sat up. The movement sent -stabs of pain through my head. I gripped my head in my hands, groaning. - -"Drink this," Dr. Moriss ordered. - -I looked up. He was holding the glass of tomato juice toward me, -the tomato juice containing something to make me sicker. I felt the -sneering smile distort the sensitive skin of my face as I reached out -deliberately and took the glass from him. I looked into his dead eyes -while I lifted it to my lips. Then I drank it. - -I set the empty glass down on the stand. - -"Get out!" I rasped. "Leave me alone." - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -Suddenly nausea gripped me. Blindly I struggled out of bed to the -bathroom. As I went I felt a bitter laughter welling up silently in my -mind. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -I was retching. That was genuine. I clamped my hands over my ears. That -was acting, because Dr. Leopold Moriss had lost his power to torture -me. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -With an animal snarl I straightened and turned on him, my eyes blinded -with tears produced by the retching, my chin wet with vomit. He caught -my flailing arms easily, folding them over my chest and pinning me -against the wall. - -"What made you afraid, January?" - -I began to cry. It was an act, but my condition made anything -resembling crying come out authentic. - -I felt his hands drop from my arms. Still blubbering as though -completely broken, I slid slowly to the tile floor, letting my head -drop. - -"All right, I'll tell you," I said weakly. A chill shudder shook my -body. I buried my face in my arms resting on my knees. - -"No, January!" It was Paula's voice. My head jerked upright. She was -standing in the doorway, the living image of anger. The doctor had -turned toward her, irritation showing on his face. "Dad," she said, her -eyes flashing blue fire at him, "if you don't stop I'll get the police." - -Alarm coursed through me. She was endangering my plan. I dropped my -head back in the cradle of my arms to hide my expression. - -"Paula!" the doctor was saying in exasperation. "Leave us--" - -"I was afraid," I cut in, making my voice sound utterly listless and -defeated, "of what I knew I would do unless I stopped my experiments -and destroyed them. - -"I had transferred the mind of a dog into a robot duplicate of its -own body. The dog was a pet. It didn't know it was no longer in its -own body, the body that had died when the mind pattern in the brain -was lifted out and transplanted into the colloidal dielectric brain. -It didn't know what had happened, so although it was often puzzled by -things, it didn't mind. - -"But I knew what the next step would be!" I lifted my head and stared -at the doctor, avoiding Paula's eyes. They were standing there, holding -their breath, waiting for my next words. I let my head drop into -concealment in my arms again. - -"The next step would be a robot body for myself," I said mechanically, -tonelessly. "I would build it and enter it. And I would never be able -to re-enter my normal body, because it would die in the transfer. -I would be immortal--but at an awful price. The price of normal -life, loving, being loved, and someday getting married and having -children--and a mother for those children. - -"And yet I knew that I would build that robot body and transfer my mind -to it--if I kept on. So I destroyed my work, my reputation, my ability -to earn the kind of money it would take to do what I didn't have the -will not to do, if I could." - -I looked up cautiously, my face lax, my eyes half veiled, to see how -they were taking what I was saying. Paula's face was a mask of pity -and sympathy. Her father's was one of fixed attention and belief. I -dropped my head again and muffled my voice. - -"Pepper--my dog--not comprehending what was wrong with him, grew -more and more bewildered. He got run over a month later. It couldn't -kill him, but it wrecked his robot frame. I smashed his colloid -brain and buried him to put his immortal mind out of its bewildering -confused--existence." - -"But--" It was Dr. Moriss' voice, full of growing, pleased conviction. -"Then there was nothing you discovered other than what I've already -discovered and tried?" - -"No," I lied. And he believed me. - - * * * * * - -The hours passed swiftly, with long gaps during which I slept, -unconscious of the conflict of hunger and alcohol starvation being -fought in every cell of my body. The sunlight through the lattice-work -of the Venetian blinds became a pleasant and welcome warmth. The song -of the persistent bird outside the window grew joyful, and something I -missed when it didn't come for a long time. - -Paula sat on the edge of the bed and washed my face and ran an electric -razor over it while I basked in the pleasant rays from her deep -blue eyes. She fed me tall glasses of tomato juice spiked only with -grapefruit juice, and with cool, clinking ice cubes that caressed my -fevered lips.... - -"You're looking much better this morning, January," she said, leaning -back and inspecting her handiwork with the shaver. "Feel up to trying a -scrambled egg fried in butter, with golden brown toast and nice crisp -bacon?" - -"And make the coffee black--and hot," I said. - -"Yes, sir," she said in mock subservience. - -She had her breakfast with me. The fluffy scrambled eggs and warm -toast began to nestle comfortably in my stomach, and Paula nestled -comfortably on the edge of the bed sipping her coffee, her hair radiant -flows of rich browns and mahoganies capturing and transmitting the -sunlight from the window. - -Her red lips parted to reveal gleaming white teeth when she laughed -intimately, happily, at my running humor. I relaxed, my mind at ease, -Dr. Leopold Moriss momentarily forgotten.... - -She displayed my suit proudly on its coat hanger, freshly cleaned -and pressed, the stack of four new shirts still in their cellophane -wrappers. I watched her retreat from the room with something inside me, -my heart perhaps, hurting. - -I stood in front of the bathroom mirror putting a knot in the tie. It -had been a long time since I'd had a choice of ties, ten of them. I -inspected it in the glass. Then the realization that it wasn't a new -tie rose to consciousness. It was Dr. Moriss'. - -I tore it off, ripping the collar of the shirt in my anger. I stood -there, panting with emotion. My purpose was back! Slowly, like the -flames of a charcoal fire fanned by a gust of wind, the fire of hate -in my eyes died down, leaving only the glowing coals, which would be -unnoticed behind the mask of a smile. - -I practiced that smile while I put on another shirt and knotted another -of Dr. Leopold Moriss' ties about my neck. I had played enough poker -in penny ante dives up and down the west coast during my wanderings to -perfect the lazy unrevealing poker smile. - -There was a knock. Paula's voice sounded. "Are you dressed?" - -"Come in!" I called. - -Her eyes literally bathed me with admiration. She let the door slam -behind her without hearing it. - -"That's right!" I said. "You've never seen me before when I looked like -a decent human being." - -"Oh, I have too," she retorted. - -"Do I look anything like you thought I would?" - -"That's just it," she said. "You look _exactly_ like I dr-- hoped you -would." Then, like she was snapping out of a dream, "Dad wants you -downstairs. That is, he said to tell you he would like you to drop -into the study if you want to, but also to tell you you don't have to. -You're free to come and go as you please. He said expressly to tell you -that." She stopped breathlessly, the dreamy stare coming back into her -eyes. - -"Why, sure," I said. "I guess I won't mind dropping into his study--too -much." I grinned. "Though I'd much rather ignore him and go out -someplace with you." - -"That's a date," she said softly, wrinkling her nose at me, "after you -see dad." - -We tripped lightly down the stairs hand in hand as if we had done it -hundreds of times before. - -"That the door?" I asked, looking at the one she had ushered me through -when I had first arrived. - -"Yes," she said. - -I gently disengaged her hand and tapped her cheek with my fingers. -Suddenly I took her chin between my fingers and tilted her face up. She -looked gravely into my eyes. I bent to kiss her. Her red lips curved to -meet mine.... - -"You stay out here," I said gruffly. - -I turned to the door. My hand touched it, hesitated, then twisted the -knob. On my face was the smile I had practiced. - - * * * * * - -Dr. Leopold Moriss was sitting as I had left him so long ago, -puffing contentedly on a long black cigar, his dead eyes staring -expressionlessly through the haze and streamers of blue smoke. I -stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Its click seemed to be the -spring that brought him to life. - -"Well, January," he said like a school teacher welcoming a child who -has been down with the mumps, "you're looking better." He nodded. -"Much better. I hope you feel better, too." He shot me a questioning -look. - -"Yes sir," I said. - -"Nothing like getting rid of something," he said. "Getting it off your -chest so you can forget it--but that isn't what I wanted to see you -about." He leaned forward suddenly. "Is that lipstick?" he asked. - -"No, tomato juice," I said dryly. He chuckled while I wiped it off. - -"I'd like you to go over my research with me," he said, reverting -abruptly to his school teacher voice. "You're the only living man who -knows anything about it other than me. You'd like that?" He looked -almost pleading. - -"All right," I said, shrugging indifferently. - -"Not exactly keen about it?" he said, chuckling again. "After what you -told me I don't blame you. But it'll be good therapy, and with Paula in -the background I don't believe you'll have any trouble resisting the -temptation to gain immortality in a non-living robot." - -"Maybe you're right," I said. - -"With me it's different," he went on enthusiastically, paying little -attention to my comment. "I'm getting on in years. My wife has been -gone long enough so that she's just a memory. Paula is grown up. -There's nothing to keep me from making the jump. Of course, I get a -rather peculiar feeling every time I think of actually taking this -step, and waking up to find my original body lying there on the other -table, dead. But it doesn't alter the milk to pour it into another -bottle. And from my experiments with dogs there doesn't seem to be -any sensation accompanying the process of transfer. As a matter of -fact, with one dog I teased him with a juicy bone up to the instant of -transfer. The first thing he did in the robot body was look around for -the bone. Rapid as the flicker of a film." - -"Yes, I know," I said dryly. "I found the same thing. No consciousness -of transfer or any other sensation. With the scanner-transferer it -takes place in less than a ten thousandth of a second. Every electrical -pattern of the brain complex is lifted out as an infinitesimal -segment and transplanted into the colloid dielectric complex without -alteration." - -"Like a television eye scans a scene, in a way," the doctor added. "But -let's go out to my laboratory. I'll show you _my body_." - -He laughed at the remark as he stood up and went to the door. - -My hands were trembling visibly. I hid them in my pockets, gripping -them into tight fists to stop their trembling. I followed him into the -hall, holding onto my appearance of calm detachment with every ounce of -my will. The doctor had not yet found out what had made me afraid. But -he would. He'd find out when I was ready for him to. - -"We're going out to the lab, Paula," Dr. Moriss was saying. - -"Oh," Paula said, disappointment in her tone. - -"Wait a minute, Dr. Moriss," I said. "Paula and I are going out for a -walk first." - -"That can wait a half hour," he said. "I just want to show you--my -body." He chuckled. - -"It can't wait," I said, "and even if it could I want a breath of fresh -air before going into that lab." - -"He's been sick for three days without being out," Paula said. "Stop -being so selfish, dad." - -"That's unkind, Paula," Dr. Moriss said, "but go ahead." He turned back -into his study. - - * * * * * - -We walked along sidewalks hand in hand, with kids playing catch and -hop-skip as hazards, and shapeless, harassed women struggling home -with overloaded shopping bags. - -We heard the dying wail of sirens and saw a crowd at a corner, and -joined it to watch the callous internes lift a screaming woman onto a -stretcher while she repeated, "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," over and -over, and a white faced teenage boy kept repeating to an unsympathetic -but silent police officer, "I didn't see her. I didn't see her. I -didn't see her." - -We had coffee and hamburgers in a smelly, ten stool hole-in-the-wall -served by a jovial, potbellied cook-and-waiter who sweated olive oil -profusely over a dirty griddle, while his cracked jukebox blared out -music from cracked records--and looked at each other and laughed when -we couldn't talk above the noise. - -On impulse we climbed aboard a streetcar just as it was starting up, -and grinned at the conductor when he yelled above the noise, "Watch -it. Wanta get killed?" And sat very close together while the ancient -monument to a past civilization thundered on, on what promised to be -its last trip. - -And we got off and pretended we were lost. We went into pawnshops and -looked at second hand diamond rings, whose fires were dimmed by the -grimy sweat of the pawnbroker's fingers and the secret knowledge they -held within their secret carbon heart of broken romances and marriages, -and poverty that had led their former owners here to exchange a dream -that had shattered for a week's rent in a fourth rate hotel. - -We bought a newspaper from a blind man, and had a coke in a corner -drugstore while we read it and worried about the world situation, and -a gaunt thing with brown bags under her eyes told the patient druggist -all her symptoms in a whining monotone. - -We looked in windows at fur coats marked down from four hundred and -ninety-nine ninety-five. We bought a sack of popcorn in an automatic -vending machine that cheated on the amount, and fought over it until -it skidded out of our hands onto the sidewalk. We had our picture -taken together in a twenty-five cent booth, pretending to each other it -wasn't so we could sit with our heads together. - -When our feet grew reluctant we looked about us and discovered we were -back home, and wondered with real surprise how that had happened, and -how our feet had known without us knowing. - -I half turned to retreat, feeling a panic and a sense of having -left something undone or unsaid that should have been said. Paula -was looking at me, her eyes troubled, and suddenly I knew she felt -the same way, only there was a basic difference. She was holding -back her feelings about her father shuffling off his mortal body -for an imperishable one of non-living matter. And I? The thought -fled fearfully into my subconscious. There could be no turning back, -whatever the price. - -I took Paula's hand, patted the side of her face until her smile -brightened again. Hand in hand we slowly walked toward the house, our -eyes on the drawn curtains of the study window behind which waited a -man whom I had grown to hate even more than I loved his daughter. - - * * * * * - -The laboratory was a two story building in back of the house, reached -by a narrow sidewalk in the grudging space the builders had left -between the two. I paused at the door after the doctor had opened it -and gone in. Paula was still at the kitchen door where we had left her, -her eyes round with unvoiced protest and mute appeal. - -"Are you coming?" the doctor's voice protested my delay. - -"O.K.," I said, stepping inside and closing the door. - -Our feet rang hollowly on the wood floor as we crossed a conventional -chemical laboratory to steps leading upward. The doctor's face was -flushed with excitement and eagerness. His footsteps were light on -the stairs, light and swift. My own were heavy and slow behind him, -each hollow blow the beat of a devil drum in some voodoo jungle as my -thoughts rushed back over the lifetime I had crowded into the past -three years, to prepare me for what I would see. - -"There it is," the doctor said as I reached the last step and paused. - -I saw the trim panel of the transfer machine, the two leather -upholstered tables. But they were no more than background impressions -as my eyes fixed on the form lying full length on one of those two -tables. - -If Dr. Leopold Moriss had not been standing beside me I would have -sworn it was him--or his corpse. Unconsciously my feet carried me -forward and to one side where I could look down at that face of -carefully molded synthetic rubber, tinted the exact shade of the -doctor's living flesh, the open unblinking eyes with irises the same -pale blue. And blue-veined hands that seemed to have died just the -moment before. - -"Color photography," the doctor was explaining. "The sensitized -chemicals impregnated in the rubberoid, and the color image of my own -flesh imprinted in it from a projector." - -"As authentic as a counterfeit ten dollar bill," I wisecracked -tonelessly. "Even to the clothes and shoes!" - -"Exactly," Dr. Moriss said, laughing gleefully. "Take a look at the -insides of the transferer and see if it looks familiar to you. I built -it so the circuits are all exposed and easy to follow. Different -colored wires." - -I stepped around the duplicate of the doctor on the table, something -inside me crawling frantically, and unfastened the back of the cabinet, -exposing the circuit. Skills that had not dimmed and would never dim -took control of my sight and traced each element of the circuit, -comparing it with that which I myself had built--and destroyed.... - -The drops of solder that held wires in contact glistened dully--silver -blobs dotting orderly geometrical designs composed of blue, yellow, -green, orange, and too many other colors to count. Little cylinders -that were condensers and resistors and tubes and coils. - -My mind clicked off one detail after another. It was my circuit. I -might have built it myself. But I had destroyed everything except what -I carried in my mind. Dr. Leopold Moriss had repeated my discoveries -step by step. Reason had followed the path I had destroyed, just as -surely as the instinct of an insect makes it live the life pattern of -its ancestors down to the finest detail. - -"Does it check?" The doctor asked. - -I looked at one particular blob of solder connecting a blue coated wire -with a red one, and nodded. - -"Yes," I said carefully. - -"How about the hoods?" he asked. - -I quickly examined the hoods, heavy things on maneuverable frames. They -could almost have been cast from the same mold. - -"They're O.K.," I said. - -"Then I want to get it over with now," Dr. Moriss said. - -"What!" I exclaimed. - -"Yes. Now," he said. "The sooner the better. Paula isn't expecting me -to do it this way." - -I took a deep breath. My eyes studied the straps to be buckled around -the robot in such a way that it could only release itself when it -became activated by a calm intelligence, and the straps fastened into -the vacant table that could be buckled and unbuckled the same way, that -would keep the body from throwing itself around violently under the -wild play of neutral forces set loose as the mind was plucked from the -living brain. - -"All right," I said, my voice sounding queer and remote to me. "Lie -down and I'll strap you up." - -As he climbed onto the vacant table my eyes searched the room -frantically for something _to cut the connection between that blue and -that red wire_. - - * * * * * - -"I'm ready," the doctor said, relaxing on the table with no more -apparent concern than a man getting into a barber chair for a shave. - -I buckled the straps with fumbling fingers, my thoughts racing. There -was not a tool in sight anywhere. Nothing that could cut that wire. - -"We forgot to warm up the tubes!" Dr. Moriss exclaimed. - -"You aren't as calm as you pretend to be," I chided, hiding the thrill -of triumph that rose in me. "As soon as I finish buckling the straps on -you and your future receptacle I'll warm up the circuit." - -"Thanks, January," he said with relief. - -I finished with him and went to the robot, the robot so soon to be -activated with the doctor's intelligence. I buckled the straps about -its inert form exactly the way I had done with the living. - -"Why don't you turn the current on before doing that?" Dr. Moriss asked. - -I smiled at him slowly. "Plenty of time," I said. - -"What do you mean by that?" he asked. His eyes were suddenly sharp with -suspicion. - -"Oh, nothing," I said, shrugging. "A minute won't make a big -difference will it?" - -He studied me closely. My heart was beating against my ribs. - -"I've changed my mind," he said abruptly, his fingers fumbling with the -buckle that would release his arms. "I'll wait until later to do this." - -"No you don't!" I said, my calm deserting me. I leaped around the -tables. His fingers were trying desperately to open the buckle that -would free his arms. I slapped them away and stood over him. - -"This is for those hours of torture," I said, leering into his blank -eyes. My fist crashed against the side of his jaw just in front of the -ear. He sank back, limp and unconscious. - -It was better this way. I was glad it had happened. Now I could be -sure of what I did. I crossed the room to a bench and searched swiftly -through drawers of tools until I found a wire cutter. In a moment I -had clipped the blue coated wire where it was soldered to the red one. -Quickly, with sure movements, I fastened the cover back on the case, -threw the switch that sent electric current glowing through the cold -filaments of tubes, and returned the wire clipper to its drawer. And by -the time I had adjusted the two hoods into position over Dr. Leopold -Moriss' head and that of the waiting robot form, the meters on the -instrument panel showed that everything was ready for the final moment. -The moment I had been looking forward to, working toward; when I could -touch the switch that would begin the final act, completing my revenge. - -My breathing was the only sound in the room as I stood for a moment -surveying everything to be sure. I grinned into the doctor's closed -eyes. It was too bad now that he wasn't conscious so that I could watch -his fear and horror, so that he could know before I jabbed down on that -switch what he had tortured me to discover. - - * * * * * - -All the hate that had built up in my soul went into that final act. I -heard the faint click as the switch snapped over to contact. A horrible -scream welled from the throat of the unconscious man as I ran to the -stairs and stumbled down them. - -[Illustration: A wild laughter filled his eyes as he adjusted the -controls and turned to see the figures stiffen under the jolting -impact of the high electrical charge....] - -I waited in the chemical lab, knowing that Paula would be watching the -door of the building, and not wanting to face her until it was all -finished. I was waiting for the sound of footsteps over my head. Slow -steps that would cross and come down the stairs. - -And finally I heard them. I watched the stairs and saw first the legs -and then the rest of the man that was descending. It was the robot, -controlled by the mind of Dr. Leopold Moriss. There was no hostility -in its expression as its eyes settled on me. Rather, there was grave -respect. It stopped in front of me, its movements so natural and smooth -that no one could have guessed it was a non-living robot. I returned -its studied gaze in silence. Then it went on past me to the door. I -watched without moving as the door closed. - -"Dad!" It was Paula's voice. "Tell January to come in here. Lunch's -ready. Dad!" Her voice was full of sudden alarm. "Dad!" Then, -"January!" Her feet pounded on the back steps and the narrow sidewalk -outside. The knob rattled as she fumbled, then the door burst open and -she stood framed there, her eyes wide with fear and horror and a half -realization of what her mind was not conditioned to quite accept. - -She saw me, and with a sob of relief she was across the room and in my -arms. I held her head against the cradle of my neck, waiting. - -And then it came. - -Over our heads sounded a faint scuffle of a shoe, a hesitant footstep, -another, and then another, dragging, stumbling. - -Paula's trembling body stiffened at the first sound. She looked up at -me in numb unbelief, then wonder, seeing in my expression, my eyes, the -culmination of my revenge. She started to pull away, to run toward the -stairs. - -"No!" I said softly. "Wait. He deserved this." - -The defiance left her. She stood beside me while we both waited. - -Feet came into view. Legs. Hands sliding weakly along the wall for -support. A face bearing the shocked realization that another mind -existed in the world identical with itself. A realization of the -fallacy of believing that by destroying oneself at the instant of -creation of that other mind it would in some absolute way _become_ -oneself. - -As I looked at him standing there on the stairs the hate that I had -nurtured disappeared. In its place was pity and sympathy. - -I was up the stairs catching him before he could fall, lifting him, -surprised at his lightness. Paula, her lips trembling on a hesitant -worried smile, was opening doors ahead of me as I carried her father -into the house and laid him on his bed. - -And as Paula and I undressed him to treat the bruises caused by the -straps, in my mind rose a picture of the other Dr. Leopold Moriss, the -robot, hurrying along some street and, perhaps, already making plans to -search for--the _other_ January Stevens. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE FOR THE ROBOT--TWO FOR THE -SAME *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: One for the Robot--Two for the Same</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Rog Phillips</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 07, 2021 [eBook #65013]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE FOR THE ROBOT--TWO FOR THE SAME ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>ONE FOR THE ROBOT—TWO FOR THE SAME</h1> - -<h2>By ROG PHILLIPS</h2> - -<p>The ingredients were simple: one man for<br /> -one robot. But the results were something else!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy<br /> -October 1950<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>I took an instinctive disliking to him from the very first. I don't -know exactly what caused it. His appearance? He wore a well tailored -gray plaid suit draped on what I would have sworn to be nothing but -a skeleton. Blue-veined skin fitted over the exposed parts, such as -his long slender hands, folded together on his lap, the stretch of -bare leg below the cuffs of his perfectly pressed trousers and above -his carelessly drooped sox, his turkey-like neck with its large -Adam's apple threatened at any moment to wobble up and down while a -gobble-gobble-gobble burst forth.</p> - -<p>His face? It made me think of a broken handled cup inverted on a -saucer, the edge of the saucer being his jaw line. If you were to wrap -the cup and saucer in tightly stretched dull white plastic or rubber -sheeting and paint eyes in the proper places you would have it down pat.</p> - -<p>Maybe it was the eyes that made me dislike him. They were faded blue, -but not the kind you would call characterless. It would be more -accurate to call them emotionless. Not emotionless in a cold way, but -in a dead way.</p> - -<p>On either side of his head were cartilages shaped like ears, and over -the top of his head faded and lifeless grey hair parted with artificial -neatness.</p> - -<p>Those were my impressions, though the hair was real enough, and I might -have seen him through different eyes if I had been in a better mood.</p> - -<p>He wore his suit like it didn't belong to him, or if it did he very -seldom had one on. I looked closely at him, sitting near me on the park -bench half turned toward where I was slouched, trying to imagine what -type of clothes would be natural to him; all I could conjure up was a -white frock and rubber gloves and a white face mask.</p> - -<p>He had asked me, "Are you employed?", and I had swallowed an impulse -to snap at him long enough to size him up.</p> - -<p>So now I had sized him up. I didn't like anything about him. But a -civil answer to his question might lead to the price of a badly needed -meal. I forced a polite grin.</p> - -<p>"Not at the moment," I said.</p> - -<p>"I surmised as much," he said quickly, smirking. His voice had the -quality of a high school chemistry teacher talking to an audience of -sulphuric acid carboys.</p> - -<p>I turned away, looking out across the expanse of lawn and trees and -flower beds of the park to where the double decker busses bobbed along -like water bugs above the carpet of cars flowing along the inner drive. -The impatient honking of tired motorists on their way home after their -day's work mingled with the contented quacking of ducks on the pond at -my back.</p> - -<p>"Would you like to earn some money?"</p> - -<p>"Huh?" I said, jerking my attention back to him.</p> - -<p>His smile was the kind a professor would give to a pupil who had just -awakened from a sound sleep.</p> - -<p>"I said, would you like to earn some money?"</p> - -<p>"Uh, uh," I said. "I'm hungry. I'd mow your lawn on an empty stomach -and get maybe fifty cents. That's one hamburger and two cups of coffee. -I'd still be hungry."</p> - -<p>Instead of answering, he reached one of his blue-veined hands inside -his coat and drew out a new looking black leather billfold. I watched -him while he pulled out a thick sheaf of currency.</p> - -<p>He carefully counted out ten twenty dollar bills, dropping them one by -one in a neat pile on the park bench. He stuck the rest back in his -billfold and took out a white glossy card, dropping it on the pile of -bills.</p> - -<p>Then, smirking, he stood up and turned his back on me, slowly walking -down the path that wound up onto a bridge over the duck pond, without -looking back.</p> - -<p>I waited until he was out of sight, then picked up the card and read -the name printed on it in raised green lettering: Dr. Leopold Moriss.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had a hamburger and two cups of coffee in a place where they'd never -seen me before. It would have been too hard to explain a twenty dollar -bill. Afterward I rented a room and soaked some of the accumulated dirt -out of my pores.</p> - -<p>Next morning I bought a new suit and the things that go with it. By -noon I was wearing a hundred of that two hundred dollars. Most of the -rest was in my pocket.</p> - -<p>Everything was fine, except that Dr. Leopold Moriss' smirking bloodless -lips and dead eyes, framed by his skin-covered jaw kept dancing before -me, taunting me, daring me to use that money without eventually showing -up to earn it.</p> - -<p>I began to dislike him even more intensely. Instead of having lunch I -went into a cocktail lounge and had a few Bourbons straight. When their -warmth began to soak in Dr. Leopold's smirking face faded.</p> - -<p>It came back, though, and with it came his classroom voice.</p> - -<p>"<i>I don't know who you are</i>," it taunted. "<i>If you never show up I -can't find you, can't do anything about it.</i>" Its tones were laughing, -knowing, goading. I drank. The face faded, the voice became inaudible.</p> - -<p>Three days later, and God knows how many quarts, I took that drink -every alcoholic dreads—the one you can't keep down.</p> - -<p>I awoke a long time later and opened my eyes. Something vaguely -like the desk clerk was hovering over me. A loud voice was pounding -unmercifully against my tortured ears.</p> - -<p>"Come on, get up and get out of here, you filthy bum," it was shouting. -"We've got no rooms for the likes of you in this hotel."</p> - -<p>I shook my head to clear away the fog over my eyes. The indignant face -of a maid was staring at me.</p> - -<p>"You ought to be ashamed," she said shrilly, "vomiting on the rug! -Where do you think you are, in the park?"</p> - -<p>"Get a wet towel and bring him to," the desk clerk ordered....</p> - -<p>I reached the precarious footing of the sidewalk with a feeling that I -had been rushed too much, and with the afternoon sun ejecting fiery red -shafts of searing pain into my brain through my punctured eye-balls.</p> - -<p>People were staring at me as they passed. In an attempt to appear -casual I stuck my hands in my pockets. The fingers of my right hand -encountered something stiff, with sharp corners.</p> - -<p>Swaying to maintain my balance, and casually whistling snatches of some -nameless tune, I pulled the thing out and held it up where I could -focus my eyes on it. It was Dr. Leopold Moriss' card.</p> - -<p>I managed an uncertain about face and thumbed my nose at the entrance -to the hotel; only it was my ear, and my thumb bumped it so painfully -that the pleasure I had anticipated at my insult was destroyed.</p> - -<p>When my consciousness settled into enough stability to be aware of -outside impressions once more, I was in a taxi, bumping along a -cobblestone street. There were no springs on the cab, and the back of -the driver's head sneered at me and dared me to open the door and jump -to my death.</p> - -<p>I wondered where I was being taken. Then my eyes caught the white -rectangle still held in my fingers. The doctor's card. So I was on my -way at last.</p> - -<p>On my way? I was there! The taxi had swerved abruptly to the curb and -stopped. I slid forward off the seat. When the driver came around and -opened the door I managed to get up on my knees. That was all.</p> - -<p>He opened the door and stood there patiently. I studied the sidewalk -and tried to figure out how to make it from the position I was in. I -gave up, and appealed to him with my eyes.</p> - -<p>"Here we go," he said good naturedly, lifting me out and balancing me -carefully on my feet. "The fare is a buck eighty-five."</p> - -<p>"Help me up the steps," I said, stalling. I was trying to remember if I -had any money left. I had a strong suspicion I hadn't.</p> - -<p>His hands held me up and pushed me across the walk and up the steps -while I fumbled in a fruitless search of my pockets.</p> - -<p>At the top of the steps my fingers encountered the cool smoothness -of a piece of paper in my coat pocket. I pulled it out and held it up -to the driver. He steadied me against the frame of the door. Then he -counted out change, closing my fingers over the money.</p> - -<p>The sound of the taxi pulling away from the curb let me know I was on -my own. It was a diminishing yellow spot far down the street.</p> - -<p>The door frame was white set in brick. The door was stained oak. I -reached out to lift the knocker and saw I had a fist full of money. I -reached out with the other hand. It had the card in it. I hooked the -little finger under the knocker and lifted it, letting it fall. It -emitted a feeble tap.</p> - -<p>After a while I saw the door moving inward. Pausing in my futile -stabbing for my pockets, I lifted my eyes slowly, beginning with the -shapely hips encased in spotlessly clean watermelon red, past the slim -waist with its black belt, pausing at the firm lift of the breast, -jumping to the smooth neck, and finally coming to the face with its -smooth contours, red lips, blue eyes lit with questioning curiosity, -and iridescent waves of spun brown hair.</p> - -<p>Not daring to talk, I mutely held out the card.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Her graceful curves of eyebrows lifted just a trifle as she looked at -the card. Then her eyes surveyed me again, quickly.</p> - -<p>"Won't you please come in?" she asked, stepping backward invitingly.</p> - -<p>I went past her with an attempt at dignity. The door closed behind -me. Her feet tapped pertly on the foyer floor as she went past me and -opened another door.</p> - -<p>"Wait in here Mr. Stevens," she said, her voice rich in velvet -overtones. "I'll tell my father you're here."</p> - -<p>I ducked my head at her in acquiescence and went past her into the -room, a luxurious library.</p> - -<p>The door closed softly as I dropped into the soft enfoldment of a -pillow-lined barrel chair. Abruptly I sat up, staring at the blank face -of the closed door, my eyes large and round.</p> - -<p>She had called me by name!</p> - -<p>I was still staring at the door when it jerked open. Dr. Leopold Moriss -strode in closing it after him, his steps and motions jerky and swift.</p> - -<p>"Well, well, well," he said. "So you came after all."</p> - -<p>"How did your daughter know my name?" I asked.</p> - -<p>His shoulders arched back in a gesture of amusement.</p> - -<p>"She should know," he said. "I've done nothing but talk about January -Stevens this and January Stevens that for the past two months."</p> - -<p>"Two months?" I echoed dumbly.</p> - -<p>"The detective agency I put on the job of finding you did an almost -impossible job," he went on, in high good humor. "They followed you -from the time you moved out of your bachelor apartment three years -ago, to Los Angeles, Seattle, through Kansas, and right back here to -Chicago again. When they found you they came and got me, and pointed -you out to me in the park."</p> - -<p>"I don't get it," I said, bewildered. "That kind of a search would -cost plenty. After paying that kind of dough I can understand your -willingness to throw two hundred after it in a—childish gesture. But -why? Since you know me, you must know I was kicked out of the Bentley -Research Laboratories because I refused to account for five thousand -dollars of research funds."</p> - -<p>"I know more than that," Dr. Leopold Moriss said, crisp sureness in his -tones.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" I asked woodenly.</p> - -<p>"Let's just say for the present, January," he said, "that I know why -you refused to account for those funds."</p> - -<p>"Let's just say goodbye," I said, staggering to my feet. I started for -the door.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, you drunken bum," he said.</p> - -<p>"Why you—" I snarled, turning toward him sober with rage, my fingers -constricting.</p> - -<p>He sat there, grinning at me, undisturbed by my threatening posture. As -if to flaunt his unconcern in my face he took out a long cigar and lit -it nonchalantly.</p> - -<p>I stared into his lifeless eyes through the screen of freshly -generated blue smoke and sat down slowly.</p> - -<p>He looked back at me, his face expressionless behind the cigar. My rage -subsided gradually.</p> - -<p>"That's better," he said finally. From that moment I hated him.</p> - -<p>Then the door opened. The girl in the watermelon red dress entered, -wheeling a tray crowded with white sandwiches, green pickles and -steaming black coffee.</p> - -<p>I scowled at the dream from heaven pushing the service cart, a friendly -smile on her red lips, feeling a sense of defeat, of being crowded into -a corner.</p> - -<p>"No thanks," I said harshly. "My stomach couldn't hold even the coffee -right now." I jerked my eyes away from hers, past Dr. Leopold Moriss, -to the curtains on the windows.</p> - -<p>"Get him a big glass of half tomato juice half grapefruit juice," the -doctor said. "He can hold that down. It'll make him feel better."</p> - -<p>I continued to hold my eyes on the curtains, but I knew that I was -licked. Whipped. Beaten into submission. When I heard the pert -footsteps return and felt the cold roundness of the glass against my -hand, I turned and looked up into her smiling, sympathetic eyes.</p> - -<p>"Thanks," I said gruffly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The cold liquid stayed down, soothing the raw walls of my stomach. I -half closed my eyes, experiencing the first pleasant body sensation -since the warm glow of that first drink three or four days before.</p> - -<p>I watched shapely legs below the swishing dress as they went across -the room to a desk. When they returned I looked up to see a cigarette -between fingernails the same shade of red as the dress. I followed the -slender fingers to the slim wrist, up the graceful, slightly tanned arm -to the short sleeve, and from there my eyes jumped to her smiling red -lips.</p> - -<p>"I'm Paula, January," she said.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, January," Dr. Moriss' voice broke in. "This is my daughter, -Paula. Her mother died many years ago. There's just the two of us, -besides the handyman."</p> - -<p>I took the cigarette from her fingers without taking my eyes away from -her face. She snapped a lighter and lit it the same way. I inhaled -deeply, letting the smoke out slowly.</p> - -<p>"Glad to know you, Paula," I murmured.</p> - -<p>"I think you'd better leave us now, Paula," Dr. Moriss broke in in his -school teacher voice. "January Stevens and I have a lot to discuss."</p> - -<p>"We can talk later, if at all," I turned on him angrily. "Two or three -days from now, after my stomach will hold food down."</p> - -<p>"We'll talk now," he said with maddening calmness. "Three days from now -you'll have had time to think. You'll refuse to talk. Just like you let -yourself be branded a thief rather than talk before."</p> - -<p>I reached out and picked up a cup of coffee from the tray. With slow -deliberation I poured the black liquid into the empty glass that had -held my tomato and grapefruit juice. There was a large plate glass -mirror on the wall across the room. I threw the empty cup at it without -rising from my chair. The mirror shattered.</p> - -<p>Dr. Moriss looked back and forth from me to the broken mirror, like a -spectator at a tennis match, the same kind of interest portrayed on his -face.</p> - -<p>"Why did you do that?" Paula asked, her eyes flashing fire.</p> - -<p>"He did it because he likes you, Paula," the doctor's maddeningly -unperturbed voice said. "If he didn't like you he would have thrown it -at me." He puffed mockingly at his cigar, his eyes squinting through -the smoke.</p> - -<p>"You <i>are</i> expensive to know, January," Paula purred. The sound of her -heels on the bare floor near the door jerked my eyes from Dr. Moriss' -face.</p> - -<p>"Don't leave," I said hastily.</p> - -<p>"Why?" Paula asked, turning, her hand still on the knob.</p> - -<p>"Because—" her father began.</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" I snapped. "I'll tell her myself. Because if you do I might -kill your father before I walk out of here."</p> - -<p>Dr. Moriss nodded agreement, puffing contentedly, his features mocking -me through the haze.</p> - -<p>"He's afraid, Paula," he said abruptly. "It's the same fear that made -him destroy his research and all the bills for materials and his notes, -and let them smirch his name." He lifted on his elbows and leaned -toward me. "The same fear that made you an alcoholic bum, January. But -I'm going to get under that fear and find out what you discovered."</p> - -<p>"You think so?" I sneered, my voice sounding reedy to my ears.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said. "You see, I've got to. I know everything you -know—except what made you afraid."</p> - -<p>"You think so?" I repeated monotonously.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he matched my monotony. "Everything except that. I'll prove it -to you. I know how you built the synthetic brain. I know how you built -the robot body. I even know how you charged the brain. I even know that -that Boston Bull Terrier pet you had at your feet while they questioned -you, and which followed you out the door when you left, disgraced, <i>was -not a living creature</i>!"</p> - -<p>I lifted my hands and looked at them. They were trembling so much their -outlines were blurred.</p> - -<p>"Show him to his room," Dr. Leopold Moriss said suddenly. "Keep a -generous supply of grapefruit and tomato juice near him."</p> - -<p>"You heard what the man said." Paula soothed gently, tugging at the -shoulder of my coat.</p> - -<p>At the door I turned ponderously. Dr. Moriss was sitting there, his -eyes on me, puffing at his cigar. Dully I turned away, following Paula -into the hall. The door closed....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The bed was soft. The kind you sink down into, surrounded by billowing -piles of shiny pink satin, fluffy orchid wool, white sheets, and an -atmosphere of apple blossoms, with your head resting on down softer and -warmer than your mother's breast.</p> - -<p>The pajamas were new and my size, obviously bought in anticipation of -my showing up.</p> - -<p>I stood teetering in the middle of the bedroom, looking at them, the -sound of water running into a tub coming from the adjoining bathroom. -Tears forced themselves into my eyes. Hot scalding tears.</p> - -<p>Paula stood less than three feet from me, an eager expression on her -face, like a Spaniel wiggling in expectation of voiced approval.</p> - -<p>I turned and staggered blindly toward the door. I wanted to get out. -I felt strangled. I couldn't breathe, couldn't possibly get another -breath of air until I got out of this house and felt my feet on God's -pavement again. I fumbled for the knob, groaning in frantic desperation -to escape.</p> - -<p>My fingers settled around the knob. I jerked the door open and started -out into the hall.</p> - -<p>The placid face of a man twice my size, radiating peace and good will, -blocked the doorway. I blinked at him blearily, backing away a step or -two. He blinked back like a simpleton trying to understand geometry.</p> - -<p>"Oh, January," Paula said behind me. "This is Carl Friedman, our -Jack-of-all-work."</p> - -<p>"Pleased to meet you, January," the giant said, sounding like an -uncouth character concentrating on not saying pleeze t'meetcha.</p> - -<p>My snarl was purely animal as I slammed the door on him and turned back -into the room. I stood there, swaying and holding my head for a minute.</p> - -<p>"All right," I gave up. "Get out. I'll take a nice warm bath and bury -myself in apple blossoms. Then you can bring me some grapefruit juice -and radiate at me like a harvest moon. Only get this straight. I hate -your old man. I hate him more every minute."</p> - -<p>"That's all right," Paula said, going to the door and opening it. "I -hate him too—sometimes."</p> - -<p>Carl backed away far enough for her to get out. She flashed me a -sympathetic smile. The door closed. I was alone. With the smell of -apple blossoms. And my hate.</p> - -<p>I took off my clothes and climbed into the tub. The temperature was -just right. I sighed in reluctant contentment, splashing around a -little to help the warmth soak in.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?" Dr. Moriss' voice came from the -doorway.</p> - -<p>I catapulted to my feet, water cascading off my body over the edge of -the tub onto the floor. Glaring at him I carefully stepped out of the -tub, my hands working in choking motions.</p> - -<p>He watched me with that air of detached interest he would have used in -observing the motions of a monkey in a zoo. I glared at him another -moment, then turned my back on him, drying myself with the thick -turkish towel.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?" It was patient repetition, insistent -and unemotional. A school teacher repeating a question to a stubborn -pupil.</p> - -<p>I ignored it. When I finished drying and turned to go out, he was gone.</p> - -<p>There was a pitcher of bright red liquid with ice cubes floating in -it on the table by the bed, and a glass of it already poured sitting -beside it. I splashed it down my throat with loud swallows, struggled -into the pajamas, and slid under the covers. It seemed only an instant -later—</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?" When I opened my eyes the hand shaking -my shoulder stopped. "What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I stared without answering. Finally I closed my eyes to blot out that -serene disinterested, hateful face. When I opened them again it was -gone. I cursed with the vocabulary of the scum from New York to San -Francisco. His psychological game was obvious, now. He hoped to wear me -down, drive me to the point where I would tell him what I would never -tell anyone, as the price of peace. He'd wake me again as soon as I -fell asleep. He'd wake me again and again and again. And again....</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>"Go 'way," I murmured drowsily.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January? What made you afraid?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>No one but an alcoholic could possibly know how I suffered. With -every cell in my body crying out in agony the only relief was the -unconsciousness of sleep. Sleep, that welcomed me only to toss me back -into the hell of consciousness and that mad, unemotionally reiterated -question.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I grew to hate every syllable, every unvarying intonation and -inflection. I began to force myself to stay awake each time, scheming -ways to murder Dr. Leopold Moriss.</p> - -<p>I dreamed of him with his throat cut, going down, puffing unconcernedly -on his cigar while his throat spurted out his life's blood. I dreamed -of him falling to the sidewalk outside my window.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I dreamed I was raining blow after blow on his battered head while -he sagged slowly to the floor, his face that of an unemotional, -disinterested automaton.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I sucked in my breath. A moment later I heard the soft closing of the -door. I opened my eyes. The room was empty.</p> - -<p>Slipping cautiously out of bed I took the pitcher of tomato juice to -the bathroom and emptied it in the wash basin, then returned to bed -with it, placing it under my pillows in such a way that I could bring -it out and strike without warning.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I opened my eyes abruptly. The face above me bent closer suddenly, -noting my new reaction.</p> - -<p>My hand was around the handle of the heavy glass pitcher. I drew in -a deep breath. With convulsive movement I struck, only to feel the -pitcher caught and pulled from my fingers.</p> - -<p>"I noticed it was gone," the doctor said calmly. "I'll get it filled -again for you."</p> - -<p>The door closed softly. I sobbed in angry frustration, in hopeless -protest. In murderous hate, for I knew that Dr. Leopold Moriss' every -move and every word were coldly calculated, directed toward one goal. -To break me down.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>My mind skidded through vast spaces to jar into its cradle of pain. I -opened my eyes. There was a glass of red fluid hovering in front of my -eyes, the doctor's fingers around it. I brought the back of my hand -against where it had been. It had bobbed up so that I missed. The -action half turned me on my face.</p> - -<p>I stayed that way. There was the careful sound of the glass being set -on the table, the sound of the door closing. With a deep sigh I turned -on my back again.</p> - -<p>There must be a way out. There had to be a way out. All I had to do was -think about it, if I could think through the torture of my body. One -thing I knew: I would never tell him what he wanted to know. Not to -escape a thousand years of torture.</p> - -<p>I sat up and drank the glass of tomato juice. The empty glass slipped -out of my fingers to the floor, landing with a dull thud on the rug. -Getting out of bed, I went into the bathroom and washed my face in cold -water.</p> - -<p>There had to be a way out. Maybe I could tell him a lie that would -satisfy him. But what lie would satisfy him? What, other than the -truth, could satisfy him?</p> - -<p>I looked in the bathroom mirror at my unshaven, tortured features, my -bloodshot eyes, my rats-nest of uncombed hair. And slowly I saw a smile -crease my lips, distorting my face. I knew a lie he would accept as the -truth—if I played it right.</p> - -<p>I had to play it right. Just as there was only one truth, there was -only one lie he would accept as the truth. If I failed to make him -accept it I was licked.</p> - -<p>How does an actor play his part? He lives it, believes it. I had to do -that. I must keep repeating the lie in my mind, believing it, repeating -it. Then I must <i>break down</i> in the way my torturer expected me to.</p> - -<p>I snapped off the light in the bathroom and struggled back to bed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When I awoke, blinding white sunlight was bursting into the room from -between half closed slats in the Venetian blinds, sending searing pain -through my dehydrated eyes into my aching brain. A window was half open -behind the blinds. A bird was singing just outside the window, its song -a shrill, jarring discordance to my tortured eardrums.</p> - -<p>I looked blankly around the room, feeling that something was missing. -The sight of the pitcher with its red liquid, and the glass beside it, -brought back memory. What was missing was Dr. Leopold Moriss standing -over me asking his eternal question.</p> - -<p>I cursed in a low mumble, hating him for even that. He had kept up his -torture until I figured out something, and had ended it before I could -put my plan into action. He was a dancing, taunting opponent who struck -painful blows with ease, and danced out of reach when I found a way to -fight back.</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" I shouted at the bird, and felt a small sense of triumph -when it obeyed.</p> - -<p>Getting out of bed, I went to the door and opened it cautiously. There -was no one outside. From somewhere in the house came the all too -familiar sound of Dr. Moriss' voice. It was interrupted by Paula's, -raised angrily. I left my door open, sneaking along the hall to the -head of the stairs, until I could make out what was being said.</p> - -<p>"... stop torturing him," Paula's voice came, angry and insistent.</p> - -<p>"It's the only way, Paula," the doctor's voice said, as unperturbed as -ever, even in the face of his daughter's obvious anger. "A fear that -silences a man, makes him remain silent while his employers brand him a -thief and blackball him from his profession, that drives him down the -road to alcoholism, can't be broken down with kindness nor anything -less than complete destruction of his ability to fight."</p> - -<p>"It isn't human!" Paula's voice shot back. "If you keep it up -I'll—I'll hate you as much as January does, even though you are my -father."</p> - -<p>"I won't have to keep it up much longer," her father replied, and for -the first time I heard a note of human emotion in his tones. "When he -breaks down and gets the load off his mind he'll get over the past few -years and be himself again. I think you're half falling for him. It -wouldn't be any good being married to an alcoholic who is incurable -because he's hiding the thing that made him an alcoholic to begin with."</p> - -<p>His next words shocked their way into my startled thoughts.</p> - -<p>"But my motive isn't that humanitarian and you know it," he said, -returning to his school-teacherish, lecturing voice. "I've repeated -January's experiments. Out in my laboratory I have the completed and -tested robot body exactly like my own, all ready for the transfer of my -mind. I could go out there right this minute, and come in again in less -than half an hour in that immortal mechanical body. But I don't dare to -<i>until I find out what made January afraid</i>."</p> - -<p>My turbulent thoughts settled into a state of wondering confusion. -If he had gone that far why didn't he know what had made me afraid? -Could it be—? Suddenly I knew! He hadn't discovered that <i>one last -refinement</i>. That was it! I felt like laughing. But my attention was -jerked back to the conversation below.</p> - -<p>"I don't care," Paula's voice said doggedly. "I don't care if you -never finish. It's inhuman anyway—to discard the body you were born -in and transfer the electronic pattern of your mind and consciousness -to a mass of non-living colloid dielectric perched inside the head of -a robot made of stainless steel bones, plastic muscles, and copper -nerves. You've got to stop torturing January."</p> - -<p>"I won't have to after a couple more hours," Dr. Moriss said. "I'm -going to wake him up and get him to drink some of that tomato juice -with a little seasoning in it designed to make him sicker than he is. -A few glasses of that and pounding my repeated question at him a few -more times should do it."</p> - -<p>I stole back to my room and grinned at the tomato juice. Did you ever -put a jigsaw together and get a flash of insight that made the pieces -fall into place suddenly, completing the puzzle almost by itself? That -pitcher of tomato juice was the last piece. Everything fit, including -that.</p> - -<p>I would be able to tell my lie, and make Dr. Leopold Moriss believe -it. Then—I would <i>help</i> him. My wild laughter burst into my ears. By -an effort of will I shut it off and climbed back into bed, simulating -sleep, my ears tuned for the first sound of the doctor's coming.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The door opened. After a moment of suspense during which I kept my -breathing slow and deep it closed softly. Padded footsteps came across -the rug.</p> - -<p>"January!" The doctor's voice was impersonal and insistent. His hand -was gripped on my shoulder, shaking me. "Why were you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I kept my eyes closed for a moment, mumbling protests. Inside I was -laughing to myself, gloatingly. His voice was no longer torture. It was -the senseless repetition of a parrot.</p> - -<p>Suddenly it angered me. I opened my eyes, glaring, a corner of my mind -thrilling to the beautiful way my emotions were giving authenticity to -my acting.</p> - -<p>"Why are you afraid, January?" the doctor repeated, his calm face -hovering above me.</p> - -<p>I shoved his hand away, sneering at him, and sat up. The movement sent -stabs of pain through my head. I gripped my head in my hands, groaning.</p> - -<p>"Drink this," Dr. Moriss ordered.</p> - -<p>I looked up. He was holding the glass of tomato juice toward me, -the tomato juice containing something to make me sicker. I felt the -sneering smile distort the sensitive skin of my face as I reached out -deliberately and took the glass from him. I looked into his dead eyes -while I lifted it to my lips. Then I drank it.</p> - -<p>I set the empty glass down on the stand.</p> - -<p>"Get out!" I rasped. "Leave me alone."</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>Suddenly nausea gripped me. Blindly I struggled out of bed to the -bathroom. As I went I felt a bitter laughter welling up silently in my -mind.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I was retching. That was genuine. I clamped my hands over my ears. That -was acting, because Dr. Leopold Moriss had lost his power to torture -me.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>With an animal snarl I straightened and turned on him, my eyes blinded -with tears produced by the retching, my chin wet with vomit. He caught -my flailing arms easily, folding them over my chest and pinning me -against the wall.</p> - -<p>"What made you afraid, January?"</p> - -<p>I began to cry. It was an act, but my condition made anything -resembling crying come out authentic.</p> - -<p>I felt his hands drop from my arms. Still blubbering as though -completely broken, I slid slowly to the tile floor, letting my head -drop.</p> - -<p>"All right, I'll tell you," I said weakly. A chill shudder shook my -body. I buried my face in my arms resting on my knees.</p> - -<p>"No, January!" It was Paula's voice. My head jerked upright. She was -standing in the doorway, the living image of anger. The doctor had -turned toward her, irritation showing on his face. "Dad," she said, her -eyes flashing blue fire at him, "if you don't stop I'll get the police."</p> - -<p>Alarm coursed through me. She was endangering my plan. I dropped my -head back in the cradle of my arms to hide my expression.</p> - -<p>"Paula!" the doctor was saying in exasperation. "Leave us—"</p> - -<p>"I was afraid," I cut in, making my voice sound utterly listless and -defeated, "of what I knew I would do unless I stopped my experiments -and destroyed them.</p> - -<p>"I had transferred the mind of a dog into a robot duplicate of its -own body. The dog was a pet. It didn't know it was no longer in its -own body, the body that had died when the mind pattern in the brain -was lifted out and transplanted into the colloidal dielectric brain. -It didn't know what had happened, so although it was often puzzled by -things, it didn't mind.</p> - -<p>"But I knew what the next step would be!" I lifted my head and stared -at the doctor, avoiding Paula's eyes. They were standing there, holding -their breath, waiting for my next words. I let my head drop into -concealment in my arms again.</p> - -<p>"The next step would be a robot body for myself," I said mechanically, -tonelessly. "I would build it and enter it. And I would never be able -to re-enter my normal body, because it would die in the transfer. -I would be immortal—but at an awful price. The price of normal -life, loving, being loved, and someday getting married and having -children—and a mother for those children.</p> - -<p>"And yet I knew that I would build that robot body and transfer my mind -to it—if I kept on. So I destroyed my work, my reputation, my ability -to earn the kind of money it would take to do what I didn't have the -will not to do, if I could."</p> - -<p>I looked up cautiously, my face lax, my eyes half veiled, to see how -they were taking what I was saying. Paula's face was a mask of pity -and sympathy. Her father's was one of fixed attention and belief. I -dropped my head again and muffled my voice.</p> - -<p>"Pepper—my dog—not comprehending what was wrong with him, grew -more and more bewildered. He got run over a month later. It couldn't -kill him, but it wrecked his robot frame. I smashed his colloid -brain and buried him to put his immortal mind out of its bewildering -confused—existence."</p> - -<p>"But—" It was Dr. Moriss' voice, full of growing, pleased conviction. -"Then there was nothing you discovered other than what I've already -discovered and tried?"</p> - -<p>"No," I lied. And he believed me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The hours passed swiftly, with long gaps during which I slept, -unconscious of the conflict of hunger and alcohol starvation being -fought in every cell of my body. The sunlight through the lattice-work -of the Venetian blinds became a pleasant and welcome warmth. The song -of the persistent bird outside the window grew joyful, and something I -missed when it didn't come for a long time.</p> - -<p>Paula sat on the edge of the bed and washed my face and ran an electric -razor over it while I basked in the pleasant rays from her deep -blue eyes. She fed me tall glasses of tomato juice spiked only with -grapefruit juice, and with cool, clinking ice cubes that caressed my -fevered lips....</p> - -<p>"You're looking much better this morning, January," she said, leaning -back and inspecting her handiwork with the shaver. "Feel up to trying a -scrambled egg fried in butter, with golden brown toast and nice crisp -bacon?"</p> - -<p>"And make the coffee black—and hot," I said.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," she said in mock subservience.</p> - -<p>She had her breakfast with me. The fluffy scrambled eggs and warm -toast began to nestle comfortably in my stomach, and Paula nestled -comfortably on the edge of the bed sipping her coffee, her hair radiant -flows of rich browns and mahoganies capturing and transmitting the -sunlight from the window.</p> - -<p>Her red lips parted to reveal gleaming white teeth when she laughed -intimately, happily, at my running humor. I relaxed, my mind at ease, -Dr. Leopold Moriss momentarily forgotten....</p> - -<p>She displayed my suit proudly on its coat hanger, freshly cleaned -and pressed, the stack of four new shirts still in their cellophane -wrappers. I watched her retreat from the room with something inside me, -my heart perhaps, hurting.</p> - -<p>I stood in front of the bathroom mirror putting a knot in the tie. It -had been a long time since I'd had a choice of ties, ten of them. I -inspected it in the glass. Then the realization that it wasn't a new -tie rose to consciousness. It was Dr. Moriss'.</p> - -<p>I tore it off, ripping the collar of the shirt in my anger. I stood -there, panting with emotion. My purpose was back! Slowly, like the -flames of a charcoal fire fanned by a gust of wind, the fire of hate -in my eyes died down, leaving only the glowing coals, which would be -unnoticed behind the mask of a smile.</p> - -<p>I practiced that smile while I put on another shirt and knotted another -of Dr. Leopold Moriss' ties about my neck. I had played enough poker -in penny ante dives up and down the west coast during my wanderings to -perfect the lazy unrevealing poker smile.</p> - -<p>There was a knock. Paula's voice sounded. "Are you dressed?"</p> - -<p>"Come in!" I called.</p> - -<p>Her eyes literally bathed me with admiration. She let the door slam -behind her without hearing it.</p> - -<p>"That's right!" I said. "You've never seen me before when I looked like -a decent human being."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I have too," she retorted.</p> - -<p>"Do I look anything like you thought I would?"</p> - -<p>"That's just it," she said. "You look <i>exactly</i> like I dr— hoped you -would." Then, like she was snapping out of a dream, "Dad wants you -downstairs. That is, he said to tell you he would like you to drop -into the study if you want to, but also to tell you you don't have to. -You're free to come and go as you please. He said expressly to tell you -that." She stopped breathlessly, the dreamy stare coming back into her -eyes.</p> - -<p>"Why, sure," I said. "I guess I won't mind dropping into his study—too -much." I grinned. "Though I'd much rather ignore him and go out -someplace with you."</p> - -<p>"That's a date," she said softly, wrinkling her nose at me, "after you -see dad."</p> - -<p>We tripped lightly down the stairs hand in hand as if we had done it -hundreds of times before.</p> - -<p>"That the door?" I asked, looking at the one she had ushered me through -when I had first arrived.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said.</p> - -<p>I gently disengaged her hand and tapped her cheek with my fingers. -Suddenly I took her chin between my fingers and tilted her face up. She -looked gravely into my eyes. I bent to kiss her. Her red lips curved to -meet mine....</p> - -<p>"You stay out here," I said gruffly.</p> - -<p>I turned to the door. My hand touched it, hesitated, then twisted the -knob. On my face was the smile I had practiced.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Dr. Leopold Moriss was sitting as I had left him so long ago, -puffing contentedly on a long black cigar, his dead eyes staring -expressionlessly through the haze and streamers of blue smoke. I -stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Its click seemed to be the -spring that brought him to life.</p> - -<p>"Well, January," he said like a school teacher welcoming a child who -has been down with the mumps, "you're looking better." He nodded. -"Much better. I hope you feel better, too." He shot me a questioning -look.</p> - -<p>"Yes sir," I said.</p> - -<p>"Nothing like getting rid of something," he said. "Getting it off your -chest so you can forget it—but that isn't what I wanted to see you -about." He leaned forward suddenly. "Is that lipstick?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"No, tomato juice," I said dryly. He chuckled while I wiped it off.</p> - -<p>"I'd like you to go over my research with me," he said, reverting -abruptly to his school teacher voice. "You're the only living man who -knows anything about it other than me. You'd like that?" He looked -almost pleading.</p> - -<p>"All right," I said, shrugging indifferently.</p> - -<p>"Not exactly keen about it?" he said, chuckling again. "After what you -told me I don't blame you. But it'll be good therapy, and with Paula in -the background I don't believe you'll have any trouble resisting the -temptation to gain immortality in a non-living robot."</p> - -<p>"Maybe you're right," I said.</p> - -<p>"With me it's different," he went on enthusiastically, paying little -attention to my comment. "I'm getting on in years. My wife has been -gone long enough so that she's just a memory. Paula is grown up. -There's nothing to keep me from making the jump. Of course, I get a -rather peculiar feeling every time I think of actually taking this -step, and waking up to find my original body lying there on the other -table, dead. But it doesn't alter the milk to pour it into another -bottle. And from my experiments with dogs there doesn't seem to be -any sensation accompanying the process of transfer. As a matter of -fact, with one dog I teased him with a juicy bone up to the instant of -transfer. The first thing he did in the robot body was look around for -the bone. Rapid as the flicker of a film."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know," I said dryly. "I found the same thing. No consciousness -of transfer or any other sensation. With the scanner-transferer it -takes place in less than a ten thousandth of a second. Every electrical -pattern of the brain complex is lifted out as an infinitesimal -segment and transplanted into the colloid dielectric complex without -alteration."</p> - -<p>"Like a television eye scans a scene, in a way," the doctor added. "But -let's go out to my laboratory. I'll show you <i>my body</i>."</p> - -<p>He laughed at the remark as he stood up and went to the door.</p> - -<p>My hands were trembling visibly. I hid them in my pockets, gripping -them into tight fists to stop their trembling. I followed him into the -hall, holding onto my appearance of calm detachment with every ounce of -my will. The doctor had not yet found out what had made me afraid. But -he would. He'd find out when I was ready for him to.</p> - -<p>"We're going out to the lab, Paula," Dr. Moriss was saying.</p> - -<p>"Oh," Paula said, disappointment in her tone.</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute, Dr. Moriss," I said. "Paula and I are going out for a -walk first."</p> - -<p>"That can wait a half hour," he said. "I just want to show you—my -body." He chuckled.</p> - -<p>"It can't wait," I said, "and even if it could I want a breath of fresh -air before going into that lab."</p> - -<p>"He's been sick for three days without being out," Paula said. "Stop -being so selfish, dad."</p> - -<p>"That's unkind, Paula," Dr. Moriss said, "but go ahead." He turned back -into his study.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We walked along sidewalks hand in hand, with kids playing catch and -hop-skip as hazards, and shapeless, harassed women struggling home -with overloaded shopping bags.</p> - -<p>We heard the dying wail of sirens and saw a crowd at a corner, and -joined it to watch the callous internes lift a screaming woman onto a -stretcher while she repeated, "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," over and -over, and a white faced teenage boy kept repeating to an unsympathetic -but silent police officer, "I didn't see her. I didn't see her. I -didn't see her."</p> - -<p>We had coffee and hamburgers in a smelly, ten stool hole-in-the-wall -served by a jovial, potbellied cook-and-waiter who sweated olive oil -profusely over a dirty griddle, while his cracked jukebox blared out -music from cracked records—and looked at each other and laughed when -we couldn't talk above the noise.</p> - -<p>On impulse we climbed aboard a streetcar just as it was starting up, -and grinned at the conductor when he yelled above the noise, "Watch -it. Wanta get killed?" And sat very close together while the ancient -monument to a past civilization thundered on, on what promised to be -its last trip.</p> - -<p>And we got off and pretended we were lost. We went into pawnshops and -looked at second hand diamond rings, whose fires were dimmed by the -grimy sweat of the pawnbroker's fingers and the secret knowledge they -held within their secret carbon heart of broken romances and marriages, -and poverty that had led their former owners here to exchange a dream -that had shattered for a week's rent in a fourth rate hotel.</p> - -<p>We bought a newspaper from a blind man, and had a coke in a corner -drugstore while we read it and worried about the world situation, and -a gaunt thing with brown bags under her eyes told the patient druggist -all her symptoms in a whining monotone.</p> - -<p>We looked in windows at fur coats marked down from four hundred and -ninety-nine ninety-five. We bought a sack of popcorn in an automatic -vending machine that cheated on the amount, and fought over it until -it skidded out of our hands onto the sidewalk. We had our picture -taken together in a twenty-five cent booth, pretending to each other it -wasn't so we could sit with our heads together.</p> - -<p>When our feet grew reluctant we looked about us and discovered we were -back home, and wondered with real surprise how that had happened, and -how our feet had known without us knowing.</p> - -<p>I half turned to retreat, feeling a panic and a sense of having -left something undone or unsaid that should have been said. Paula -was looking at me, her eyes troubled, and suddenly I knew she felt -the same way, only there was a basic difference. She was holding -back her feelings about her father shuffling off his mortal body -for an imperishable one of non-living matter. And I? The thought -fled fearfully into my subconscious. There could be no turning back, -whatever the price.</p> - -<p>I took Paula's hand, patted the side of her face until her smile -brightened again. Hand in hand we slowly walked toward the house, our -eyes on the drawn curtains of the study window behind which waited a -man whom I had grown to hate even more than I loved his daughter.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The laboratory was a two story building in back of the house, reached -by a narrow sidewalk in the grudging space the builders had left -between the two. I paused at the door after the doctor had opened it -and gone in. Paula was still at the kitchen door where we had left her, -her eyes round with unvoiced protest and mute appeal.</p> - -<p>"Are you coming?" the doctor's voice protested my delay.</p> - -<p>"O.K.," I said, stepping inside and closing the door.</p> - -<p>Our feet rang hollowly on the wood floor as we crossed a conventional -chemical laboratory to steps leading upward. The doctor's face was -flushed with excitement and eagerness. His footsteps were light on -the stairs, light and swift. My own were heavy and slow behind him, -each hollow blow the beat of a devil drum in some voodoo jungle as my -thoughts rushed back over the lifetime I had crowded into the past -three years, to prepare me for what I would see.</p> - -<p>"There it is," the doctor said as I reached the last step and paused.</p> - -<p>I saw the trim panel of the transfer machine, the two leather -upholstered tables. But they were no more than background impressions -as my eyes fixed on the form lying full length on one of those two -tables.</p> - -<p>If Dr. Leopold Moriss had not been standing beside me I would have -sworn it was him—or his corpse. Unconsciously my feet carried me -forward and to one side where I could look down at that face of -carefully molded synthetic rubber, tinted the exact shade of the -doctor's living flesh, the open unblinking eyes with irises the same -pale blue. And blue-veined hands that seemed to have died just the -moment before.</p> - -<p>"Color photography," the doctor was explaining. "The sensitized -chemicals impregnated in the rubberoid, and the color image of my own -flesh imprinted in it from a projector."</p> - -<p>"As authentic as a counterfeit ten dollar bill," I wisecracked -tonelessly. "Even to the clothes and shoes!"</p> - -<p>"Exactly," Dr. Moriss said, laughing gleefully. "Take a look at the -insides of the transferer and see if it looks familiar to you. I built -it so the circuits are all exposed and easy to follow. Different -colored wires."</p> - -<p>I stepped around the duplicate of the doctor on the table, something -inside me crawling frantically, and unfastened the back of the cabinet, -exposing the circuit. Skills that had not dimmed and would never dim -took control of my sight and traced each element of the circuit, -comparing it with that which I myself had built—and destroyed....</p> - -<p>The drops of solder that held wires in contact glistened dully—silver -blobs dotting orderly geometrical designs composed of blue, yellow, -green, orange, and too many other colors to count. Little cylinders -that were condensers and resistors and tubes and coils.</p> - -<p>My mind clicked off one detail after another. It was my circuit. I -might have built it myself. But I had destroyed everything except what -I carried in my mind. Dr. Leopold Moriss had repeated my discoveries -step by step. Reason had followed the path I had destroyed, just as -surely as the instinct of an insect makes it live the life pattern of -its ancestors down to the finest detail.</p> - -<p>"Does it check?" The doctor asked.</p> - -<p>I looked at one particular blob of solder connecting a blue coated wire -with a red one, and nodded.</p> - -<p>"Yes," I said carefully.</p> - -<p>"How about the hoods?" he asked.</p> - -<p>I quickly examined the hoods, heavy things on maneuverable frames. They -could almost have been cast from the same mold.</p> - -<p>"They're O.K.," I said.</p> - -<p>"Then I want to get it over with now," Dr. Moriss said.</p> - -<p>"What!" I exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Now," he said. "The sooner the better. Paula isn't expecting me -to do it this way."</p> - -<p>I took a deep breath. My eyes studied the straps to be buckled around -the robot in such a way that it could only release itself when it -became activated by a calm intelligence, and the straps fastened into -the vacant table that could be buckled and unbuckled the same way, that -would keep the body from throwing itself around violently under the -wild play of neutral forces set loose as the mind was plucked from the -living brain.</p> - -<p>"All right," I said, my voice sounding queer and remote to me. "Lie -down and I'll strap you up."</p> - -<p>As he climbed onto the vacant table my eyes searched the room -frantically for something <i>to cut the connection between that blue and -that red wire</i>.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I'm ready," the doctor said, relaxing on the table with no more -apparent concern than a man getting into a barber chair for a shave.</p> - -<p>I buckled the straps with fumbling fingers, my thoughts racing. There -was not a tool in sight anywhere. Nothing that could cut that wire.</p> - -<p>"We forgot to warm up the tubes!" Dr. Moriss exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"You aren't as calm as you pretend to be," I chided, hiding the thrill -of triumph that rose in me. "As soon as I finish buckling the straps on -you and your future receptacle I'll warm up the circuit."</p> - -<p>"Thanks, January," he said with relief.</p> - -<p>I finished with him and went to the robot, the robot so soon to be -activated with the doctor's intelligence. I buckled the straps about -its inert form exactly the way I had done with the living.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you turn the current on before doing that?" Dr. Moriss asked.</p> - -<p>I smiled at him slowly. "Plenty of time," I said.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean by that?" he asked. His eyes were suddenly sharp with -suspicion.</p> - -<p>"Oh, nothing," I said, shrugging. "A minute won't make a big -difference will it?"</p> - -<p>He studied me closely. My heart was beating against my ribs.</p> - -<p>"I've changed my mind," he said abruptly, his fingers fumbling with the -buckle that would release his arms. "I'll wait until later to do this."</p> - -<p>"No you don't!" I said, my calm deserting me. I leaped around the -tables. His fingers were trying desperately to open the buckle that -would free his arms. I slapped them away and stood over him.</p> - -<p>"This is for those hours of torture," I said, leering into his blank -eyes. My fist crashed against the side of his jaw just in front of the -ear. He sank back, limp and unconscious.</p> - -<p>It was better this way. I was glad it had happened. Now I could be -sure of what I did. I crossed the room to a bench and searched swiftly -through drawers of tools until I found a wire cutter. In a moment I -had clipped the blue coated wire where it was soldered to the red one. -Quickly, with sure movements, I fastened the cover back on the case, -threw the switch that sent electric current glowing through the cold -filaments of tubes, and returned the wire clipper to its drawer. And by -the time I had adjusted the two hoods into position over Dr. Leopold -Moriss' head and that of the waiting robot form, the meters on the -instrument panel showed that everything was ready for the final moment. -The moment I had been looking forward to, working toward; when I could -touch the switch that would begin the final act, completing my revenge.</p> - -<p>My breathing was the only sound in the room as I stood for a moment -surveying everything to be sure. I grinned into the doctor's closed -eyes. It was too bad now that he wasn't conscious so that I could watch -his fear and horror, so that he could know before I jabbed down on that -switch what he had tortured me to discover.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>All the hate that had built up in my soul went into that final act. I -heard the faint click as the switch snapped over to contact. A horrible -scream welled from the throat of the unconscious man as I ran to the -stairs and stumbled down them.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p> A wild laughter filled his eyes as he adjusted the controls and turned to see the figures stiffen under the jolting impact of the high electrical charge....</p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I waited in the chemical lab, knowing that Paula would be watching the -door of the building, and not wanting to face her until it was all -finished. I was waiting for the sound of footsteps over my head. Slow -steps that would cross and come down the stairs.</p> - -<p>And finally I heard them. I watched the stairs and saw first the legs -and then the rest of the man that was descending. It was the robot, -controlled by the mind of Dr. Leopold Moriss. There was no hostility -in its expression as its eyes settled on me. Rather, there was grave -respect. It stopped in front of me, its movements so natural and smooth -that no one could have guessed it was a non-living robot. I returned -its studied gaze in silence. Then it went on past me to the door. I -watched without moving as the door closed.</p> - -<p>"Dad!" It was Paula's voice. "Tell January to come in here. Lunch's -ready. Dad!" Her voice was full of sudden alarm. "Dad!" Then, -"January!" Her feet pounded on the back steps and the narrow sidewalk -outside. The knob rattled as she fumbled, then the door burst open and -she stood framed there, her eyes wide with fear and horror and a half -realization of what her mind was not conditioned to quite accept.</p> - -<p>She saw me, and with a sob of relief she was across the room and in my -arms. I held her head against the cradle of my neck, waiting.</p> - -<p>And then it came.</p> - -<p>Over our heads sounded a faint scuffle of a shoe, a hesitant footstep, -another, and then another, dragging, stumbling.</p> - -<p>Paula's trembling body stiffened at the first sound. She looked up at -me in numb unbelief, then wonder, seeing in my expression, my eyes, the -culmination of my revenge. She started to pull away, to run toward the -stairs.</p> - -<p>"No!" I said softly. "Wait. He deserved this."</p> - -<p>The defiance left her. She stood beside me while we both waited.</p> - -<p>Feet came into view. Legs. Hands sliding weakly along the wall for -support. A face bearing the shocked realization that another mind -existed in the world identical with itself. A realization of the -fallacy of believing that by destroying oneself at the instant of -creation of that other mind it would in some absolute way <i>become</i> -oneself.</p> - -<p>As I looked at him standing there on the stairs the hate that I had -nurtured disappeared. In its place was pity and sympathy.</p> - -<p>I was up the stairs catching him before he could fall, lifting him, -surprised at his lightness. Paula, her lips trembling on a hesitant -worried smile, was opening doors ahead of me as I carried her father -into the house and laid him on his bed.</p> - -<p>And as Paula and I undressed him to treat the bruises caused by the -straps, in my mind rose a picture of the other Dr. Leopold Moriss, the -robot, hurrying along some street and, perhaps, already making plans to -search for—the <i>other</i> January Stevens.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE FOR THE ROBOT--TWO FOR THE SAME ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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