After one drink, he decided he’d had enough for a while. He wasn’t a superman, though his capacity was slightly incredible. Just enough for objective clarity and subjective release—
“Is the studio always open at night?” he asked the waiter.
“Sure. Some of the stages, anyway. It’s a round-the-clock program.”
“The commissary’s full.”
“We get the airport crowd, too. ’Nother?”
Gallegher shook his head and went out. The card Brock had given him provided entree at a gate, and he went first of all to the big shot’s office. Brock wasn’t there, but loud voices emerged, shrilly feminine.
The secretary said, “Just a minute, please,” and used her interoffice visor. Presently—“Will you go in?”
Gallegher did. The office was a honey, functional and luxurious at the same time. Three-dimensional stills were in niches along the walls — Vox-View’s biggest stars. A small, excited, pretty brunette was sitting behind the desk, and a blonde angel was standing furiously on the other side of it. Gallegher recognized the angel as Silver O’Keefe.
He seized the opportunity. “Hiya, Miss O’Keefe. Will you autograph an ice cube for me? In a highball?”
Silver looked feline. “Sorry, darling, but I’m a working girl. And I’m busy right now.”
The brunette scratched a cigarette. “Let’s settle this later, Silver. Pop said to see this guy if he dropped in. It’s important.”
“It’ll be settled,” Silver said. “And soon.” She made an exit. Gallegher whistled thoughtfully at the closed door.
“You can’t have it,” the brunette said. “It’s under contract. And it wants to get out of the contract, so it can sign up with Sonatone. Rats desert a sinking ship. Silver’s been kicking her head off ever since she read the storm signals.”
“Yeah?”
“Sit down and smoke or something. I’m Patsy Brock; Pop runs this business, and I manage the controls whenever he blows his top. The old goat can’t stand trouble. He takes it as a personal affront.”
Gallegher found a chair. “So Silver’s trying to renege, eh? How many others?”
“Not many. Most of ’em are loyal. But, of course, if we bust up—” Patsy Brock shrugged. “They’ll either work for Sonatone for their cakes, or else do without.”
“Uh-huh. Well — I want to see your technicians. I want to look over the ideas they’ve worked out for enlarger screens.”
“Suit yourself,” Patsy said. “It’s not much use. You just can’t make a televisor enlarger without infringing on some Sonatone patent.”
She pushed a button, murmured something into a visor and presently two tall glasses appeared through a slot in the desk. “Mr. Gallegher?”
“Well, since it’s a Collins—”
“I could tell by your breath,” Patsy said enigmatically. “Pop told me he’d seen you. He seemed a bit upset, especially by your new robot. What is it like, anyway?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gallegher said, at a loss. “It’s got lots of abilities — new senses, I think — but I haven’t the slightest idea what it’s good for. Except admiring itself in a mirror.”
Patsy nodded. “I’d like to see it sometime. But about this Sonatone business. Do you think you can figure out an answer?”
“Possibly. Probably.”
“Not certainly?”
“Certainly, then. Of that there is no manner of doubt — no possible doubt whatever.”
“Because it’s important to me. The man who owns Sonatone is Elia Tone. A piratical skink. He blusters. He’s got a son named Jimmy. And Jimmy, believe it or not, has read Romeo and Juliet. ”
“Nice guy?”
“A louse. A big, brawny louse. He wants me to marry him.”
‘“Two families, both alike in—’”
“Spare me,” Pasty interrupted. “I always thought Romeo was a dope, anyway. And if I ever thought I was going aisling with Jimmy Tone, I’d buy a one-way ticket to the nut hatch. No, Mr. Gallegher, it’s not like that. No hibiscus blossoms. Jimmy has proposed to me — his idea of a proposal, by the way, is to get a half nelson on a girl and tell her how lucky she is.”
“Ah,” said Gallegher, diving into his Collins.
“This whole idea — the patent monopoly and the bootleg theaters — is Jimmy’s. I’m sure of that. His father’s in on it, too, of course, but Jimmy Tone is the bright little boy who started it.”
“Why?”
“Two birds with one stone. Sonatone will have a monopoly on the business, and Jimmy thinks he’ll get me. He’s a little mad. He can’t believe I’m in earnest in refusing him, and he expects me to break down and say yes after a while. Which I won’t, no matter what happens. But it’s a personal matter. I can’t let him put this trick over on us. I want that self-sufficient smirk wiped off his face.”
“You just don’t like him, eh?” Gallegher remarked. “I don’t blame you, if he’s like that. Well, I’ll do my damnedest. However, I’ll need an expense account.”
“How much?”
Gallegher named a sum. Patsy styloed a check for a far smaller amount. The scientist looked hurt.
“It’s no use,” Patsy said, grinning crookedly. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Gallegher. You’re completely irresponsible. If you had more than this, you’d figure you didn’t need any more, and you’d forget the whole matter. I’ll issue more checks to you when you need ’em — but I’ll want itemized expense accounts.”
“You wrong me,” Gallegher said, brightening. “I was figuring on taking you to a nightclub. Naturally I don’t want to take you to a dive. The big places cost money. Now if you’ll just write another check—”
Patsy laughed. “No.”
“Want to buy a robot?”
“Not that kind, anyway.”
“Then I’m washed up,” Gallegher sighed. “Well, what about—”
At this point the visor hummed. A blank, transparent face grew on the screen. Gears were clicking rapidly inside the round head. Patsy gave a small shriek and shrank back.
“Tell Gallegher Joe’s here, you lucky girl,” a squeakily voice announced. “You may treasure the sound and sight of me till your dying day. One touch of beauty in a world of drabness—”
Gallegher circled the desk and looked at the screen. “What the hell. How did you come to life?”
“I had a problem to solve.”
“How’d you know where to reach me?”
“I vastened you,” the robot said. “What?”
“I vastened you were at the Vox-View Studios, with Patsy Brock.”
“What’s vastened?” Gallegher wanted to know.
“It’s a sense I’ve got. You’ve nothing remotely like it, so I can’t describe it to you. It’s rather like a combination of sagrazi and prescience.”
“Sagrazi?”
“Oh, you don’t have sagrazi, either, do you. Well, don’t waste my time, I want to go back to the mirror.”
“Does he always talk like that?” Patsy put in.
“Nearly always. Sometimes it makes even less sense. O.K., Joe. Now what?”
“You’re not working for Brock any more,” the robot said. “You’re working for the Sonatone people.”
Gallegher breathed deeply. “Keep talking. You’re crazy, though.”
“I don’t like Kennicott. He annoys me. He’s too ugly. His vibrations grate on my sagrazi.”
“Never mind him,” Gallegher said, not wishing to discuss his diamond-buying activities before the girl. “Get back to—”
“But I knew Kennicott would keep coming back till he got his money. So when Elia and James Tone came to the laboratory, I got a check from them.”
Patsy’s hand gripped Gallegher’s biceps. “Steady! What’s going on here? The old double-cross?”
“No. Wait. Let me get to the bottom of this. Joe, damn your transparent hide, just what did you do? How could you get a check from the Tones?”