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Fan, issue 2, July 1945
Page 34
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34 Fornier looked at the check and apparently thought the same thing. He bowed. "Monsieur, it will be ready. And this one -- ah, it will be my masterpiece!" RIC guided his launch through the sparse traffic on the lowest speed lane. Occasionally he glanced at the luminous dial on the power-board. "Only seven-thirty, Herman," he said to the figure seated beside him. "We have half an hour yet." I wonder if Myra'll really be waiting? But of course she will . . . oh, I forgot, Herman, you probably don't understand what I'm talking about. Fornier said you only understood direct and explicit statements, directions. Ah well, it doesn't matter, just so you remember the instructions I gave you." Ric glanced up at the sky. "At least, we're lucky there's no moon tonight." It was a few minutes until eight when he set the little launch down on the Morison roof. He maneuvered it near a little group of potted palm trees, and stepped out. Herman stepped out too, and stood beside him. From a distance of only five feet an observer would have thought twins stood there. The robot had Ric's exact height and build. It wore Ric's clothes. Even the features of plastic material were remarkably similar. Already Ric had ascertained that his twin could manipulate the launch with ease. Not that there was anything to it. Merely dialing the course and looking the controls. For Ric had determined that he wasn't going to spend a week on a far-away Pacific island! He's seen a close-up of one once on the telerad, and it wasn't the paradise Myra imagined. Merely a long stretch of sun-swept sand, and a few scraggly trees, and not much else. He hated to do what he was going to do, but it was necessary. Let Myra spend a couple of days on her island, and she'd forget her romantic nonsense. And Herman would bring her safely back. Ric glanced at the lighted doorway leading off the roof. Someone was approaching. He drew Herman back into the shadows, and looked again toward the door. Yes, it was Myra. He hadn't been any too soon. Quickly Ric fumbled at the robot's side, and spoke two low words into the tiny microphone concealed there. He twisted the timing-dial to ten seconds, and then, with a fervent prayer on his lips, he let Herman go. He saw Herman stroll out toward Myra very naturally. Or was it naturally? Ric hoped so now, as he stood there in the shadows tensely watching. He saw Herman approach her, and then he heard his own two words, in his own voice, issue from the robot's mouth: "Come on." Ric had dared say no more than that. Did those words sound a little tinny, or did Ric just imagine it? He saw Myra hesitate, but just for a moment. Herman reached out and gently took her
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34 Fornier looked at the check and apparently thought the same thing. He bowed. "Monsieur, it will be ready. And this one -- ah, it will be my masterpiece!" RIC guided his launch through the sparse traffic on the lowest speed lane. Occasionally he glanced at the luminous dial on the power-board. "Only seven-thirty, Herman," he said to the figure seated beside him. "We have half an hour yet." I wonder if Myra'll really be waiting? But of course she will . . . oh, I forgot, Herman, you probably don't understand what I'm talking about. Fornier said you only understood direct and explicit statements, directions. Ah well, it doesn't matter, just so you remember the instructions I gave you." Ric glanced up at the sky. "At least, we're lucky there's no moon tonight." It was a few minutes until eight when he set the little launch down on the Morison roof. He maneuvered it near a little group of potted palm trees, and stepped out. Herman stepped out too, and stood beside him. From a distance of only five feet an observer would have thought twins stood there. The robot had Ric's exact height and build. It wore Ric's clothes. Even the features of plastic material were remarkably similar. Already Ric had ascertained that his twin could manipulate the launch with ease. Not that there was anything to it. Merely dialing the course and looking the controls. For Ric had determined that he wasn't going to spend a week on a far-away Pacific island! He's seen a close-up of one once on the telerad, and it wasn't the paradise Myra imagined. Merely a long stretch of sun-swept sand, and a few scraggly trees, and not much else. He hated to do what he was going to do, but it was necessary. Let Myra spend a couple of days on her island, and she'd forget her romantic nonsense. And Herman would bring her safely back. Ric glanced at the lighted doorway leading off the roof. Someone was approaching. He drew Herman back into the shadows, and looked again toward the door. Yes, it was Myra. He hadn't been any too soon. Quickly Ric fumbled at the robot's side, and spoke two low words into the tiny microphone concealed there. He twisted the timing-dial to ten seconds, and then, with a fervent prayer on his lips, he let Herman go. He saw Herman stroll out toward Myra very naturally. Or was it naturally? Ric hoped so now, as he stood there in the shadows tensely watching. He saw Herman approach her, and then he heard his own two words, in his own voice, issue from the robot's mouth: "Come on." Ric had dared say no more than that. Did those words sound a little tinny, or did Ric just imagine it? He saw Myra hesitate, but just for a moment. Herman reached out and gently took her
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