"You'll get used to it. Why not take today off and explore Denebia? You
need a rest after all those months in space."
"Maybe I will," said Dr. Hoyt vaguely, slightly anesthetized.
"Good." Dr. Kalmar buzzed for Miss Dupont. "Send in the next patient,
please. Oh, and Dr. Hoyt is taking the day off."
* * * * *
But the young assistant was stunned into staying by the huge size of the
Social Control file that was carried by the next patient, Mr. Fallon,
and his wife.
"I know just what you're thinking, Dr. Kalmar!" cried Mrs. Fallon
distractedly, but with a nervously bright smile. "Those awful Fallons
again! I don't blame you a bit, but--"
As a matter of fact, that was exactly what Dr. Kalmar was thinking, plus
the defeated feeling that they were all he needed to make the day
complete.
"Good Lord, what's in all those files?" Dr. Hoyt exclaimed.
Dr. Kalmar could have explained, but he didn't feel up to it.
Mr. Fallon, a wispy, shyly affable, poetic-looking chap, did it for him.
"Papers," he said.
"I know that, but why so many?" Dr. Hoyt asked impatiently.
Miss Dupont seemed wryly amused as she watched his consternation.
"I guess you might say it's because I can't make my mind up," confessed
Mrs. Fallon with an uneasy giggle. She was a big woman who might have
gurgled over a collection of toy dogs on Earth, but here she was a
freight checker and her husband was a statistician in the Department of
Supply, though on Earth he might have been anything from a composer to a
social worker. "No matter how often we rephysical Harry, I always get
tired of his looks in a few months."
"And how often has that been done?" Dr. Hoyt demanded.
"I think it's eleven times. Isn't that right, dear?"
"No, sweet," said Mr. Fallon. "Thirteen."
Dr. Kalmar could have interrupted, but he considered it wiser to let his
assistant learn the hard way. Miss Dupont was enjoying it too much to
interfere.
"We've made him tall and we've made him short, skinny, fat, bulging with
muscle, red hair, black hair, blond hair, gray hair--I don't know, just
about everything in the book," said Mrs. Fallon, "and I simply can't
seem to find one I'd like for keeps."
"Then why the devil don't you get another husband?"