AREN’T HUMANS LUCKY?
"Damn robot. I can't move
my legs."
"That's not surprising.
They're
covered
in
plastex. We repaired your
face in a day but your
legs will take longer."
"What's the matter with
them?"
asked
Perlock,
stealing himself for the
worst.
"They're fractured."
"Fractured! I want to
speak to my secretary.
Get me a fone.“
“Please,” said the nurse,
sweetly.
Perlock gave a splutter.
"You're only a robot."
"And you can't move.
Bye now." The robot
began to leave the room,
"Please," The word came
out
reluctantly..
The
nurse continued on her
way out. Perlock gulped.
"Please," he said, quite
loudly.
The nurse turned. "Yes,
Sir," she said, and left to
return soon with an
ancient fone.
65
Perlock
said,
"Thank
you," to prevent further
trouble and dialed his
personal code.
"Good morning, caller,"
he heard his secretary
say,
“l'm
afraid
Mr
Perlock is late for work.”
"I'm not late for work
you idiot, I'm in hospital."
"You may well be in
hospital, Sir, but Mr
Perlock is late for work.
Do you wish to leave a
message?"
"Damn you, I am Lurton
Periock. Are you tone
deaf?"
“No, I am not tone deaf,
Sir, and you sound very
unlike Mr Perlock. Are
you
perhaps
another
gentleman with the same
name?"
Perlock switched off the
fone. His voice did sound
a bit peculiar as far as he
could tell, he had to admit.
His throat still hurt a bit.
"Nurse," he shouted.
“Yes, Sir," said the nurse
cheerfully as she rolled