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of Barrows' subdivisions on the Moon."
We sipped our Dixie cups of bourbon morosely, all but the Lincoln; it had put its aside.
"Have you ever had any kangaroo tail soup?" Maury said.
We all looked at him, including the simulacrum.
"I have a can around here somewhere," Maury said. "We can heat it up on the hotplate; it's
terrific. I'll make it."
"Let me out," I said.
"No thanks," Pris said.
The simulacrum smiled its gentle, wan smile.
"I'll tell you how I happened to get it," Maury said. "I was in the supermarket, in Boise, waiting in
line. The checker was saying to some guy, 'No, we're not going to stock any kangaroo tail soup
anymore.' All of a sudden from the other side of the display--it was boxes of cereal or something--
this hollow voice issues: 'No more kangaroo tail soup? Ever?' And this guy comes hurrying around
with his cart to buy up the last cans. So I got a couple. Try it, it'll make you all feel better."
I said, "Notice how Barrows worked us down. He calls the simulacra automatons first and then
he calls them gimmicks and then he winds up calling them dolls."
"It's a technique," Pris said, "a sales technique. He's cutting the ground out from under us."
"Words," the simulacrum said, "are weapons."
"Can't you say anything to him?" I asked the simulacrum. "All you did was debate with him."
The simulacrum shook its head no.
"Of course it can't do anything," Pris said. "Because it argues fair, like we did in school. That's the
way they debated back in the middle of the last century. Barrows doesn't argue fair, and there's no
audience to catch him. Right, Mr. Lincoln?"
The simulacrum did not respond, but its smile seemed-- to me--to become even sadder, and its
face longer and more lined with care.
"Things are worse now than they used to be," Maury said. But, I thought, we still have to do
something. "He may have the Stanton under lock and key, for all we know. He may have it torn
down on a bench somewhere, and his engineers are making one of their own slightly redesigned so
as not to infringe on our patents." I turned to Maury. "Do we actually have patents?"
67
"Pending," Maury said. "You know how it works." He did not sound encouraging. "I don't doubt
he can steal what we have, now that he's seen our idea. It's the kind of thing that if you know it can
be done, you can do it yourself, given enough time."
"Okay," I said, "so it's like the internal combustion engine. But we've got a headstart; let's start
manufacturing them at the Rosen factory as soon as possible. Let's get ours on the market before
Barrows does."
They all looked at me wide-eyed.
"I think you've got something there," Maury said, chewing his thumb. "What else can we do
anyhow? You think your dad could get the assembly line going right away? Is he pretty fast on
converting over, like this?"
"Fast as a snake," I said.
Pris said derisively, "Don't put us on. Old Jerome? It'll be a year before he can make dies to
stamp the parts out with, and the wiring'!! have to be done in Japan--he'll have to fly to Japan to
arrange for that, and he'll want to take a boat, like before."
"Oh," I said, "you've thought about it, I see."
"Sure," Pris said sneeringly. "I actually considered it seriously."
"In any case," I said, "it's our only hope; we've got to get the goddam things on the retail market--
we've wasted enough time as it is."
"Agreed," Maury said. "What we'll do is, tomorrow we'll go to Boise and commission old Jerome
and your funny brother Chester to start work. Start making die stampers and flying to Japan--but
what'll we tell Barrows?"
That stumped us. Again we were all silent.
"We'll tell him," I announced, "that the Lincoln busted. That it broke down and we've withdrawn it
from market. And then he won't want the thing so he'll go back home to Seattle."
Maury, coming over beside me, said in a low voice, "You mean cut the switch on it. Shut it off."
I nodded.
"I hate to do that," Maury said. We both glanced at the Lincoln, which was regarding us with
melancholy eyes.
"He'll insist on seeing it for himself," Pris pointed out. "Let him back on it a couple of times, if he
wants to. Let him shake it like a gum machine; if we have to cut it off it won't do a thing."
"Okay," Maury agreed.
"Good," I said. "Then we've decided."
We shut off the Lincoln then and there. Maury, as soon as the deed was done, went downstairs
and out to his car and drove home, saying he was going to bed. Pris offered to drive me to my motel [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]