The door opened and a tall gray-haired man grabbed my hand.
"I'd know you anywhere, Sam. Come in, old man. Frij is the name. Frij
by name but warm by nature. Like a drink?"
I suppose he was punning on the British nickname for a refrigerator.
"Not right now, thanks," I said.
Frij wore a dark, pin-stripe suit, a plaid waistcoat and bow tie. He
looked about forty-five. He was solidly built, like a football player
gone only slightly to pot. He nodded and half closed one eye.
"Very smart," he said. "I admire your restraint. Sit down, old man."
He indicated a deep leather chair on the visitor's side of the huge
wooden desk. He dropped himself into a swivel chair on his side, leaned
back and propped his feet on a corner of the desk, which was clear
of everything except two telephones and three animal figurines made
of heavy-looking black plastic. I recognized two of them. One was an
elephant and the other was a donkey. I couldn't figure out the third,
which was bigger than either of the others. It must have been some kind
of Monolithian animal.
It seemed to be up to me to say something, so I said, "Nice place you
have here. Quite a view." And so it was. The Empire State Building
loomed up to the south and Rockefeller Center to the north. The third
set of windows gave a good view of the Hudson River.
"Without a peer," Frij said. "Peerless, in a word. Peerless Promotions.
That's us. My name, I've decided after considerable thought, will be
Addison Madison. What do you think of it, old man?"
I thought very little of it but I pretended to turn it over in my mind.
"It's got class," I said finally. To myself I thought, _With a capital
K_.
"Exactly," Addison Madison-Frij said. "That's what they want--class.
Frij is too alien-sounding for their ears. They must have something
that inspires confidence."
"Confidence in what, if I may ask?"
"Ask by all means. That's what I want you to do. Ask and criticize
and suggest. This thing must roll, on all sixteen. It must purr, like
the contented kitten. Or is it cow? I need you, old man, I tell you
frankly. The closest kind of collaboration is necessary if we are to
achieve our objective." He took his feet off the desk and sat up
purposefully in his chair. "If you follow me."
"Not entirely," I said. "What exactly are you promoting? Public
acceptance of Monolithia?"
"Secondarily," he said, giving me a sincere, old-school-tie look.
"President Allison primarily. Through him, us. Didn't Mox brief you?"
"Only briefly. I thought you were going to fill in the gaps."
"That I will," Frij said. "But in good time. First lunch. Then there's
the cocktail party. Both excellent gap-fillers. There's no urgency at
all." He rang and a girl came in. A pretty girl, about five-feet-four
and black-haired, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and carrying a notebook.
"Joy," he said, "put down in your book that you're to take Mr. Kent to
lunch and keep him occupied until it's time for the party. Joy, Sam.
Sam, Joy Linx. That's all for now, Sam. See you at the party."