_The Colonel was a career man; and knowing
what would happen within his lifetime promised
to be an invaluable asset.... But he had never
heard of that ancient legend of Faust...._
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, June 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
At first I thought it was just another wrong number. Well, it was, in a
sense--but not the kind of wrong number I thought it was. The ringing
signal burred against my ear in the usual way, then there was a click,
and somebody said, "Office of Historical Research. Zon Twenty speaking."
"Oh. 'Scuse me," I said. "I must have dialed wrong."
That was euphemism--misplaced loyalty, maybe. I didn't dial the wrong
number, and I knew it. But high brass had installed a new automatic
dialing system in the Pentagon as an economy measure, and it produced
so many wrong numbers and entanglements that I think it actually
must have cost more money in the long run than the old-fashioned live
operator system--but then that shouldn't surprise you if you've ever
been connected with the military.
I was about to hang up after my apology. The voice on the other end
said: "Wait! Did you say--_dialed_?"
"Sure," I said.
"Then--" and he seemed surprised, if not downright startled--"what kind
of a phone are you speaking from?"
"Huh?" I said. "What kind? The regular kind. Phone, desk, dial, M-1--or
whatever the Army calls it."
This time his voice went off like a small bomb. "The _Army_?" he said.
"Sure," I said. "What's the matter with the Army?"
And thought: Navy or Air Force type, no doubt. Our allies. Have to put
up with them in the Pentagon. Have to put up with a lot of things--even
being Colonel Lawrence Boggs didn't save you from a snafu dialling
system. I thought: somebody is out to needle armchair colonels this
week. I'll play around with it for a while, maybe find out who's got
the sense of humor.