"Okay, now the only problem is, is the folks in the capsules are going to have a hell of a ride. There might be a lot of screaming in there, so we think the best thing is to give them something that knocks them out cold as soon as they get in the capsule."
"What would that be, an injection?"
"No, needles scare some people, and besides it takes too long. We were thinking more along the lines of a harmless knockout gas released into the capsule when you close the lid. So, anyway, as soon as each capsule gets to the right place, it closes a contact that turns on the gerbil field, and we can easily load two point five million a day, so we're in like Flynn."
The sound copter roared overhead, dropping a blizzard of bulletins. Linda Lavalle picked one up from the pavement. It said:
DON'T BE LEFT BEHIND!!!
Noted psychic, Dr. Wallace Bird, Ph.D. tells us that there MAY NOT BE ENOUGH ROOM! FOR EVERYONE! in the Cube. Those who get in first will be carried to the New Planet! Those who are LEIT BEHIND may PERISH!
Use this handy form to SIGN UP for the Cube Lottery
NOW!!! DON'T BE LEFT BEHIND!!!!
When she gave it to Stone, he said, "Yeah, well, that's the way they set it up. You don't have to worry about it for another seven or eight years, but you might as well sign anyway. You can always back out if you want to."
''I'll sign when you do."
"Okay."
That evening Sylvia said, "I talked to my shrink today about getting into the Cube?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Well, she says people are either sarcophiles or sarcophobes."
"She does, huh? What does that mean?"
"Either they want to get into those coffins, or else they'd do anything in the world to stay out of them."
"Oh. Okay, which are you?"
"I'm a sarcophobe. I want to be cremated."
"Well, if Ed's right, you will be."
"Thanks a lot. "
Stone spent a week in Washington, came back to New York for a few days, then was gone again. He was in Africa, Australia, Indonesia, shaking hands with presidents and prime ministers. The world economy was booming; fleets of passenger ships were under construction in yards from Seattle to Arkhangelsk.
After work Lavalle went directly to the penthouse and walked into the private apartment where Stone was waiting. He kissed her. "Hi, how was your day?"
"Not too bad. When did you get in?"
"About an hour ago. Sit down, have a drink." He picked up a sweating cold jug, poured the martini into a chilled glass, added olives, handed it to her.
She sipped it. "You're getting better. "
He was pouring rye into a glass, adding ginger ale. "Listen, there's somebody I want you to meet. I brought him down from Washington with me. He can't stay long, but I just want you to see him."
"Okay, where is he?"
"Wait a minute, I'll get him." He walked behind her.
She kicked off her shoes, leaned back and took another slow sip of the martini. After a moment she heard a sound and turned to look. Stone was standing there with a funny expression on his face. A few feet behind him, Stone was watching.
She yelped and stood up, spilling the glass.
"What do you think?" said Stone, the second one. The first one said nothing, but his smile broadened.
"Don't do that to me!" she said, with one hand on her heart. She had stepped on her shoe in getting up, and the drink had spilled on her skirt.
"Linda, this is Bob Eberhardt," the second Stone said.
The man put out his hand, and she took it. "Heard a lot about you," he said in a clear tenor.
"Thanks, I guess." Now that she looked closely, she could see the differences: Eberhardt's eyes were not quite the same color, his nose was a little broader, but the two men were dressed just alike, and the resemblance was amazing. They sat down and looked at her.
"See," Stone said, "I've got all these functions I've got to go to, and I can't be in two places at once, so they dreamed this up. I've got three guys made over to look like me. This is Medium Bob, and then there's Big Bob and Little Bob."
"I can't talk much," said Eberhardt, "because the voice isn't right yet. So I can't go on holo, or meet heads of state, or anything. But I can meet mayors, and go in parades, and just wave." He grinned. "It's fun."
Her heart was slowing down. "Pour me another drink, for God's sake. Do you think three is going to be enough?"
"For now, but we can recruit some more, right, Bob?"
"Right. I've got a cousin who'd like to give it a try."
"Rye and ginger, Bob?"
Eberhardt made a face. "No, I've got to run. Nice meeting you, Ms. Lavalle."
"You too. Good luck. "
When he was gone, she looked at Stone. "You son of a bitch," she said.
"Would you of known it wasn't me, if I hadn't been standing right there?"
"Maybe not. Are you feeling okay? You look rotten."
He took a long swallow of his highball. "I'm tired. Maybe these Bobs will take some of the pressure off.'' He shook his head. "I'm worried, though."
"What about?"
"I know somebody's working against me, and I don't know who. It could be Rottenstern, he's the German, but Schwartzmann means black man, and that could be anybody in about sixty countries. It could be Svartschev in Russia. Or it could even be Rong."
"Oh, come on."
"He's been acting funny lately. I think he's got some kind of a deal on the side."
"You really think everything that happens has something to do with the story in that magazine?"
"Not everything, but the main characters. You, me, and Frank, that's three, but there's one more, and I don't know who he is. I know he's out there."
"We're talking to Clint Goldberg in Lexington, Kentucky. Mr. Goldberg, you've told people you're not going to the new planet. Why not?"
"Well, son, I raise beef cattle for a living. Some people seem to think that's a bad thing to do, but my idea is, if they don't like what I do, they can go somewheres else where I'm not a-doing it. Now it may be so that we're all going to get in that box and wake up in some other universe with rolls of thousand-dollar bills in our pocket, although I somehow doubt it. But I know one thing for damn sure, you can't get a herd of beef cattle in them boxes."
"Some people are speculating that we'll find herds of cattle on the other planet when we get there. Or something like cattle."
"Yes, well, and some people speculate that they'll get pie in the sky when they die. I don't say nothing against that, but I believe I'll stay here and take my chances."
"Who's going to eat your beef cattle, Mr. Goldberg?"
"As long as people are living on this planet, they'll be some that eats beef."
"We're in Ames, Iowa, talking to Mrs. Dorene Volmer. Mrs. Volmer, you're planning to go to the new planet, is that right?"
"That is right, Dave. Our minister is going to lead the whole congregation into the Cube, I mean everybody except one person, Stephen Orr, and we're trying to talk him around. Because we'd like to be one hundred percent. And it would be so nice, when we get to the new planet, if we could look around and see that everybody else was there, too. Some families are being broken up by this, not in our congregation but other places. I think that's so sad."
"So you don't have any doubt that you've made the right decision?"
"Oh, no. It's going to be just wonderful, and I wish everybody could understand that. "