"It had damn well better be," growled the policeman. "If you know
what's good for you--"
Bong! went the Monitex.
"Go on, get outa here before I run ya in," yelled the officer.
Bong! went the Monitex.
* * * * *
"Have a good time, dear," Jeb called after Laurie as she happily took
off into space from their level, clutching her purse, which was jammed
with enough credits to keep her brimful of fun for two whole months at
the Pleasure Palace.
"Don't you worry about that," said Laurie over her shoulder.
Jeb went back to his apartment. He stretched out on the couch,
contentment welling up in him. He opened the footstool nearby
and, within its archaic shape, slid open the cunningly concealed
refrigerator. He took out a plastic cone of beer.
"A-ah!" sighed Jeb. How wonderful to be alone, free of Laurie's nagging
for two whole months! A superb reward for his hard work. How clever of
the government to have passed such a regulation!
After a while, like wax melting, his grin drooped away. It certainly
was quiet, wasn't it?
Within half an hour, he was wild and didn't know why. Jittering, he
dialed his televisor and the man from Marriage Relations appeared on
the screen. He glared at Jeb and cautiously looked around for the
Monitex until he spotted it.
"Shut that thing off or no advice," snapped the man.
"It's _off_! Look, I don't know what's bothering me. Can I have special
permission to join my wife on her vacation? Or get her back here?"
"Afraid not," said the man. "The principle of working so one's wife
can have a vacation has been established through the centuries; the
government merely put it into law. And as for joining her or getting
her back here--that's against the law."
"But that's unfair!" yelled Jeb.
"Oh?" The man smiled. "So! I'm glad to see how happy, how perfect is
the marriage we arranged for you." He rubbed his hands in delight.
"She's just barely gone and already you miss her. Wonderful."
"Wonderful? I'm _suffering_!"
The man from Marriage Relations glanced at a dial nearby. "Of course
you are. Suffering is the ideal joy for a Masochist. Just think what a
lovely two months of missing her you'll have."
"All right, so it's a rule that I have to send her on a vacation and
can't join her," Jeb complained savagely, "but, damn it, she doesn't
have to _enjoy_ it!"
"Well," said the man, looking back to Jeb, "there's the answer. Your
Masochism index has gone down any number of points. You're angry!"