AREN’T HUMANS LUCKY?
extrapolation
using
relevant data be of any
help?"
Perlock drummed his
fingers on the desk-top,
scattering
pens
and
infuriatingly revealing
many tiny scratches from
the
robots’
feet.
The
twitch
worsened.
He
slowly picked up one of
the pens and, under the
pretence of examining it,
calmed himself. Alter a
long time, he said, "There
seems
to
be
little
difference between this
pen and the last BiK pen
we saw. There is a slight
haziness at one end that I
cannot explain but it
doesn’t seem to affect the
working."
The secretary gave the
robotic equivalent of a
cough. "Perhaps it is to do
with the interior, Sir."
"Very
astute,"
said
Perlock, lost in thought.
Then he glanced up and
looked around. He saw his
secretary perched on the
desk in front or him.
"Hum," he amended, "fairly
astute."
63
He inspected the pen
once more. There did not
seem to be any place to
unscrew it. He twisted
and pulled at the plastic
but nothing moved. So he
decided to break it open.
After all, he thought,
there are plenty more.
He snapped the pen in
half
and
instantly
everything went black,
sticky and nasty-tasting.
He felt he was drowning
in a sea of tacky, dirty
water. He also felt very
frightened.
Then
something began buzzing
near him and crawling
over his clothes and face.
He shuddered and raised
a hand to brush it off but,
before he could, he felt a
terrible burning on his
face and his hand went to
that. He screamed in
agony at the same time
and something flew into
his mouth and began
moving around. He spat it
out but not before it had
squirted
a
fiery
substance
down
his
throat. Then it was too
painful to scream. For a
second
everything