What the machines couldn't guess was that Edgar's second extramarital affair, the deep one, was with a widow named Marion Frascati, that it was still going on, and that Marion's deceased husband had been Lou Frascati, a second-coater first class, Edgar's best friend. To their own profound shock, Edgar and Marion had found themselves in each other's arms a scant month after good old Lou's death. And again, and again, and again - and they'd tried to bring it to an end, honest-to-God they had. But it was like a bright, fat cherry on the gray mush of their lives. And they thought, wistfully, weakly, that maybe it wouldn't really matter as long as no one was hurt -the kids; sweet, loyal Wanda. And that Lou wouldn't have wanted anything more, now that he had another variety of bliss, than that good old Edgar and good old Marion make the most of life while they had the use of their flesh.
But they hadn't believed it. And the kids noticed something screwy was going on, and Wanda'd cried a couple of times lately and refused to tell him why, and probably Lou, wherever he was. . . . Anyway, Edgar was going to go on seeing Marion, but he was going to tell Wanda, God bless her and God help her - tell her, and - Who was banging on the Hagstrohm door but the goddam Shah of Bratpuhr, for chrissakes.
"Come in, come in," said Edgar, and he added under his breath, "your majesty, your highness, emperor of the universe and all the ships at sea, you nosy son-of-a-bitch."
When Halyard had phoned him about the visit, Hagstrohm had made a point of not being impressed by the Shah's title, or by Halyard's rank. It was rare that he got the opportunity to show what he thought of rank - that a man was a man for all that. He was going to behave perfectly naturally, just as he would if the callers had been fellow Reeks and Wrecks. Wanda had taken a different view, and had started frantically to clean the place from top to bottom, and to make lemonade and send Edgar, Jr., out for little cookies, but big Edgar had put a stop to all that. He put the kids out, and that was the only cleaning up that was to be done.
The door opened, and in came the Shah, followed by Khashdrahr, Halyard, and Doctor Ned Dodge, the manager of Proteus Park.
"Aha!" said the Shah, gingerly touching the enameled steel wall of the living room. "Mmmmm."
Edgar held out his hand, and the parade brushed past it, heedless. "Well, kiss mine," he muttered.
"Eh?" said Doctor Dodge.
"You heard me."
"You're not in a saloon now, Hagstrohm," whispered Dodge. "Watch yourself; this is international relations."
"All right if I go to a saloon?"
"What's eating you, anyway?"
"The guy walks into my house and won't even shake my hand."
"It's not the custom in his country."
"Is it in yours?"
Dodge turned his back and grinned hospitably at the Shah. "Two bedrooms, living room with dining alcove, bath, and kitchen," he said. "This is the M-17 house. Radiant heating in the floor. The furniture was designed after an exhaustive national survey of furniture likes and dislikes. The house, the furniture, and the lot are sold as a package. Simplified planning and production all the way round."
"Lakki-ti, Takaru?" piped the Shah, looking at Edgar closely for the first time.
"What's he say?"
"He wants to know if you like it here," said Khashdrahr.
"Sure - I guess. It's all right. I suppose. Yeah."
"It's nice," said Wanda.
"Now, if you'll follow me into the kitchen," said Doctor Dodge, leaving Wanda and Edgar behind, "you'll see the radar range. Cooks by high frequency, and cooks the inside of whatever's being cooked as fast as the outside. Cooks anything in a matter of seconds, with perfect control. Make bread without a crust, if you want to."
"What is the matter with crust on bread?" asked Khashdrahr politely.
"And this is the ultrasonic dishwasher and clothes-washer," said Dodge. "High-frequency sound passing through the water strips dirt and grease off anything in a matter of seconds. Dip in, take out, bingo!"
"And then what does the woman do?" asked Khashdrahr.
"Then she puts the clothes or dishes in this drier, which dries them out in a matter of seconds, and - here's a nifty trick, I think - gives the clothes a spanking-clean outdoors odor, like they were dried in the sun, see, with this little ozone lamp in here."
"And then what?" asked Khashdrahr.
"She feeds the clothes through this ironer, which can do what was an hour's ironing before the war in three minutes. Bing!"
"And then what does she do?" asked Khashdrahr.
"And then she's done."
"And then what?"
Doctor Dodge reddened perceptibly. "Is this a joke?"
"No," said Khashdrahr. "The Shah would like to know what it is that the woman Takaru -"
"What's a Takaru?" said Wanda suspiciously.
"Citizen," said Halyard.
"Yes," said Khashdrahr, smiling at her oddly, "citizen. The Shah would like to know why she has to do everything so quickly - this in a matter of seconds, that in a matter of seconds. What is it she is in such a hurry to get at? What is it she has to do, that she mustn't waste any time on these things?"
"Live!" said Doctor Dodge expansively. "Live! Get a little fun out of life." He laughed, and clapped Khashdrahr on the back, as though to jar him into feeling some of the jollity in this average American man's home.
The effect on Khashdrahr and the Shah was a poor one. "I see," said the interpreter coldly. He turned to Wanda. "And how is it you live and get so much fun out of life?"
Wanda blushed and looked down at the floor, and worried the carpet edge with her toe. "Oh, television," she murmured. "Watch that a lot, don't we, Ed? And I spend a lot of time with the kids, little Delores and young Edgar, Jr. You know. Things."
"Where are the children now?" asked Khashdrahr.
"Over at the neighbors' place, the Glocks, watching television, I expect."
"Would you like to see the ultrasonic washer work?" said Doctor Dodge. "Right before your eyes, bing! Takes off egg, lipstick, bloodstains -"
"The transducer's shot again," said Edgar, "so the washer's out of commission. Wanda's been doing the washing in a tub for a month now, waiting for a new transducer."
"Oh, I don't mind," said Wanda. "Really, I like doin' 'em that way. It's kind of a relief. A body needs a change. I don't mind. Gives me something to do."
Halyard ended the silence that followed her statement with a brisk suggestion that they leave these good people alone and have a look at the central recreation pavilion down the street.
"If we hurry," said Doctor Dodge, "we'll probably catch the leathercraft class still in session."
The Shah patted the radar stove, the laundry console, and peered for a moment at the television screen, which showed five persons seated around a conference table, arguing earnestly. "Brahouna!" he chuckled.
Khashdrahr nodded. "Brahouna! Live!"
As the party left, Halyard was explaining that the house and contents and car were all paid for by regular deductions from Edgar's R&RC pay check, along with premiums on his combination health, life, and old age security insurance, and that the furnishings and equipment were replaced from time to time with newer models as Edgar - or the payroll machines, rather - completed payments on the old ones. "He has a complete security package," said Halyard. "His standard of living is constantly rising, and he and the country at large are protected from the old economic ups and downs by the orderly, predictable consumer habits the payroll machines give him. Used to be he'd buy on impulse, illogically, and industry would go nutty trying to figure out what he was going to buy next. Why, I remember when I was a little boy, we had a crazy neighbor who blew all his money on an electric organ, while he still had an old-fashioned icebox and kerosene stove in his kitchen!"