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voice.
 Certainly. How else can I conquer you? If you keep killing each other off, what ll be left for me to
conquer? He looked at Henry appealingly.  I do wish you d cease all that shooting and stabbing and
blowing-up nonsense.
Any would-be tyrants Henry had ever read about had alwaysencouraged inner strife. The unie seemed
to have his wires crossed.  Are you sure you re supposed tostop wars?
 Certainly!
Henry finally decided it was the reverse-thinking of the strange alien intellect. He couldn t fathom the
rationale, but it certainly seemed like a good deal for humanity.
 What are those button and nail machines over there doing?
 Those are implement-cripplers, the unie said, with ill-concealed pride.  Have you ever stopped to
wonder why you still use buttons, rather than  for instance  clasps, clamps, zippers, Velcro, seams
and other much better contrivances? The button is easily lost, loses its center when sent through the
laundry, breaks threads, isn t very attractive, and is difficult to open and close. Ever wonder why you still
use them? He didn t wait for Henry to answer.  Because I keep sifting supplies of them into stores, and
they have to sell them, and that creates more of a demand.
 And there is, of course, the constant mindwashing of my 24-hour-a-day Coercive Brain Ray. That helps
a lot.
Henry said,  Buttons. Insidious, no doubt about it. And the  nail crippler machine over there?
 The nails are treated so they go in at angles. You ever see anyone who could hit ten consecutive nails
straight into a piece of wood? They slant, they bend, they break! That s what my sweet little machine
over there does! Don t you just love it? The other machine, the trapezoidal one, helps keep the birthrate
up, to offset the death-rate in your wars. He looked at Henry sternly.  It puts pin-sized holes in pro  
Henry blanched, cut him off quickly.  Er  that s all right; I understand. But what about those fortune
cookies? Why the weird messages?
 Demoralization. See how they botheredyou ? Just think of a million people opening fortune cookies and
finding the message,No way , inside! They find a message,Forget about it, orIt s lost, you ll never find
it. What do you think happens to their frame of mind, their self-confidence, theirjoie de vivre ? They
don t know it, but it unnerves them for the rest of the week, throws them off-balance, to find a fortune
cookie fortune, and all it says, enigmatically, maddeningly, is  Tuesday! 
 Do they all say  Tuesday ?
 The dated ones do. That s the only day I m sure there will be no ominous omens of a Flib. He
shuddered. Henry didn t know what Flib was, but the unie certainly seemed to be bothered, even
terrified, of it.  Oh, I mso pleased they re getting results! I think I ll step up production.
He walked down the air to a flat, multi-snake-armed machine, and punched a tip at one end. The
machine began towonkle .
Wonkle, wonkle, wonkle. Plummis! Eggzaborg swore, dealing the machine a vicious kick. The
machine wonkled once more in agony, then began winkling. Winkle, winkle, winkle.
Eggzaborg looked relieved.  You d think even this refurbished equipment would hold up better. It s only
about a thousand years old. We don t judge in years, of course, he reminded Henry again.  No years.
We re notfrom here, remember?
 Why are you bothering to tell me all this? asked Henry.  I should think you d have to keep all this
secret . . . or get rid of me. Suddenly Henry was very much more frightened.  Are you going to kill me .
. . and . . . recycle my mortal flesh?
The unie settled back in its cross-legged crouch.  Are you nuts?Kill you?!? I won tbe here in another ten
minutes, and you ll never find me again. Besides, who d believe you if you told them what you d seen?
You people are such moles. He began to laugh. High, thin, squeaky. It rasped on Henry s nerves.  Kill
you. Recycle you. Oh, that s rich! What ultra stupegoids you humans be! [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]