Inside, the waiting room was jammed with human beings and assorted
electronic, two-legged contrivances. Surprise halted Raymond half-way
through the doorway, and he studied the crowd in disbelief.
A beautiful female voice pierced the noisy confusion of human and
unhuman voices: "Do you have an appointment, or are you human?"
Raymond stared at the Receptionist-Android, with its fixed smile on its
sculptured feminine face, and replied unhappily, "I had no idea I would
need one."
The Receptionist-Android smiled steadily. "Is this an emergency, or a
disaster, or are you sober?"
"Could be," Raymond replied, bewildered. "Yes."
"If you desire to wait, perhaps the Doctor might see you, see you, see
you. But I don't see why, see why, see why."
Mumbling a hasty assent, Raymond retreated into an unoccupied corner,
where he and his android waited. The other men and women in the room
were a grim, haggard looking group. As for the other androids, Raymond
refused to look at them; and he closed his ears to all sound.
Noon came and passed, and the afternoon dragged. Raymond lost his
feeling of impatience, and stood in the corner trance-like. Finally at
two-thirty a tiny green light flashed in the Receptionist-Android's
metallic bosom.
"The doctor will see you now or never."
The large, spacious office, with its glowing walls, dimmed ceiling, and
deep, soft carpeting was a silent, soothing relief. Raymond's android
watched as the two men engaged in a mutually weary handshake.
Dr. Millhop was a tall thin, sharp featured man. There were black moons
under his eyes that lay heavily on long, guttered wrinkles. He leaned
back in his chair, as Raymond explained the android's manifestations.
The Doctor nodded his head in the manner of a man who had been
listening to the same story all day, day after day.
"Mr. Golden," Dr. Millhop said, "you must realize that every android
has its own peculiar idiosyncrasies. Unfortunately, in some instances,
there is absolutely nothing that can be done about it."
Raymond gestured at his android, and asked hopefully, "What about this
instance?"
"I don't know," the Doctor replied frankly. "Before I can express an
opinion, it will be necessary to run your android through exhaustive
tests and have my technical staff examine its electronic circuits
minutely. If it is a simple matter of rewiring, or, say, a faulty
component, why, of course, we can straighten it out very easily.
However, if it is a condition that is caused by Unknown Factors, then I
can prescribe only one thing." He paused, spread his palms, and added
sadly, "As so many of us seem to be attempting these days--_don't lose
your temper_."
"How long will it take to run your tests?"
"We can send it into the lab immediately, run it through the analyzers,
and have a report in one hour."
Raymond reached into his coat pocket for a cigar, stuck it in his mouth
and lighted it with an old-fashioned lighter. He puffed thoughtfully,
took one glance at the android, and said, "Let's do it."
The android's head swiveled sharply, staring first at Raymond and then
at the Doctor. "Isn't anyone going to consult me?"
Dr. Millhop's chair groaned, as he leaned forward suddenly. His voice
was cold death in an angry whisper. "Shut up!"
The Doctor viciously pressed a button. A large panel in the wall
snapped open and two huge, square-shouldered, power-androids clanked
into the room. The Doctor pointed. They lifted Raymond's protesting
android, and carried it from the room.
Back in the waiting room, Raymond drummed his fingers nervously on the
receptionist's desk. He finished his cigar, started another one and
finished that one. Precisely one hour later the little light flashed on
the Receptionist-Android's dashboard chest.
"The Doctor will see you again and again and again."
As Raymond re-entered the office, the Doctor was examining a folder.
"Mr. Golden," Dr. Millhop said in a tired voice without looking up,
"there is absolutely nothing that can be done, short of electronic
lobotomy."