to his phone and called Monroe-Alpha. “Cliff? In your office, I see. Stay there.” He clicked off without offering explanation.
“Good morning, Felix,” Monroe-Alpha said with his usual formality as he ushered him in. “You seemed perturbed. Anything wrong?”
“Not exactly. I want you to do me a favor. Say—what’s gotten into you?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“Yesterday you looked like a six-day corpse. Today you sparkle, you glow. There’s a song on your lips and a hey, nonny, nonny. How come?”
“I didn’t know that it showed in my face, but it is true that I am feeling somewhat elated.”
“Why? Did the money machine declare another dividend?”
“Didn’t you see the news this morning?”
“As a matter of fact, no. Why?”
“They opened the Adirondack Stasis!”
“Well?”
“It had a man in it, a live man.”
Hamilton’s eyebrows crawled up. “That’s interesting, if true. But do you mean to tell me that the discovery of this human fossil is the cause of your childlike glee?”
“But don’t you see it, Felix? Don’t you feel the significance of it? He’s an actual representative out of the golden days when the race was young—back when life was simple and good, before we messed up with a lot of meaningless complications. Think what he can tell us!”
“Maybe. What year is he from?”
“Uh…1926, on the old scale.”
“1926…let’s see… I’m no historian but I didn’t know that that period was such glowing Utopia. I had a notion it was pretty primitive.”
“That’s just what I mean—simple and beautiful. I’m not a historian either, but I met a chap last night who told me a lot about it. He’s made quite a study of it.” He launched into an enthusiastic description of Frisby Gerald’s concept of life in the early XXth century.
Hamilton waited for him to run out of breath, then said, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know, but it seems to me your gears don’t mesh.”
“Why?”
“Well, I don’t think this present day is everything it might be, but I will say I think it is probably the best set-up the human race has ever managed. No, Cliff, this ‘Back-to-the-Good-Old-Days’ stuff is the bunk. We get more for less, with less trouble, nowadays, than ever before in history.”
“Well, of course,” Monroe-Alpha answered tartly, “if you have to have an automaton to rock you to sleep at night—”
“Save it. I can sleep on a pile of rock, if necessary, but I think it foolish to go out of your way to seek discomforts.”
Monroe-Alpha did not answer. Hamilton saw that his words had rankled and added, “That was strictly a personal opinion. Maybe you’re right. Let’s forget it.”
“What was the favor you wanted?”
“Oh, yes! Cliff, you know Mordan?”
“The district moderator?”
“The same. I want you to call him up and make a date for him to meet me—I mean, to meet you.”
“Why should I want to see him?”
“You don’t. I’ll keep the date.”
“Why all the fancy business?”
“Cliff, don’t ask me questions. Do it for me.”
Monroe-Alpha still hesitated. “You ask me to do this blind. Is it…everything it should be?”
“Cliff!”
Monroe-Alpha flushed. “Sorry, Felix. I know it’s all right if you want it. How shall I get him to agree?”
“Make it insistent enough and he’ll be there.”
“Where, by the way?”
“At my—no, that won’t do. Let me use your flat.”
“Certainly. What time?”
“Noon.”
Mordan came into the flat looking slightly puzzled. He looked still more puzzled and surprised when he saw Hamilton. “Felix! What brings you here?”
“To see you, uh, Claude.”
“So? Where is our host?”
“He won’t be here. Claude, I arranged this. I had to see you and I couldn’t do it openly.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because,” Hamilton said, “there is a spy in your office.”
Mordan simply waited.
“Before we go into that,” Hamilton went on, “I want to ask you one
“Good morning, Felix,” Monroe-Alpha said with his usual formality as he ushered him in. “You seemed perturbed. Anything wrong?”
“Not exactly. I want you to do me a favor. Say—what’s gotten into you?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“Yesterday you looked like a six-day corpse. Today you sparkle, you glow. There’s a song on your lips and a hey, nonny, nonny. How come?”
“I didn’t know that it showed in my face, but it is true that I am feeling somewhat elated.”
“Why? Did the money machine declare another dividend?”
“Didn’t you see the news this morning?”
“As a matter of fact, no. Why?”
“They opened the Adirondack Stasis!”
“Well?”
“It had a man in it, a live man.”
Hamilton’s eyebrows crawled up. “That’s interesting, if true. But do you mean to tell me that the discovery of this human fossil is the cause of your childlike glee?”
“But don’t you see it, Felix? Don’t you feel the significance of it? He’s an actual representative out of the golden days when the race was young—back when life was simple and good, before we messed up with a lot of meaningless complications. Think what he can tell us!”
“Maybe. What year is he from?”
“Uh…1926, on the old scale.”
“1926…let’s see… I’m no historian but I didn’t know that that period was such glowing Utopia. I had a notion it was pretty primitive.”
“That’s just what I mean—simple and beautiful. I’m not a historian either, but I met a chap last night who told me a lot about it. He’s made quite a study of it.” He launched into an enthusiastic description of Frisby Gerald’s concept of life in the early XXth century.
Hamilton waited for him to run out of breath, then said, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know, but it seems to me your gears don’t mesh.”
“Why?”
“Well, I don’t think this present day is everything it might be, but I will say I think it is probably the best set-up the human race has ever managed. No, Cliff, this ‘Back-to-the-Good-Old-Days’ stuff is the bunk. We get more for less, with less trouble, nowadays, than ever before in history.”
“Well, of course,” Monroe-Alpha answered tartly, “if you have to have an automaton to rock you to sleep at night—”
“Save it. I can sleep on a pile of rock, if necessary, but I think it foolish to go out of your way to seek discomforts.”
Monroe-Alpha did not answer. Hamilton saw that his words had rankled and added, “That was strictly a personal opinion. Maybe you’re right. Let’s forget it.”
“What was the favor you wanted?”
“Oh, yes! Cliff, you know Mordan?”
“The district moderator?”
“The same. I want you to call him up and make a date for him to meet me—I mean, to meet you.”
“Why should I want to see him?”
“You don’t. I’ll keep the date.”
“Why all the fancy business?”
“Cliff, don’t ask me questions. Do it for me.”
Monroe-Alpha still hesitated. “You ask me to do this blind. Is it…everything it should be?”
“Cliff!”
Monroe-Alpha flushed. “Sorry, Felix. I know it’s all right if you want it. How shall I get him to agree?”
“Make it insistent enough and he’ll be there.”
“Where, by the way?”
“At my—no, that won’t do. Let me use your flat.”
“Certainly. What time?”
“Noon.”
Mordan came into the flat looking slightly puzzled. He looked still more puzzled and surprised when he saw Hamilton. “Felix! What brings you here?”
“To see you, uh, Claude.”
“So? Where is our host?”
“He won’t be here. Claude, I arranged this. I had to see you and I couldn’t do it openly.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because,” Hamilton said, “there is a spy in your office.”
Mordan simply waited.
“Before we go into that,” Hamilton went on, “I want to ask you one
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