Alien Landscapes 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

was not sure what to make of this change in her husband’s behavior. He gave her a peck on the cheek. “You can go to bed without me, dear. I think I’ll stay up a while longer.”
    She went to bed, leaving him to his unusual preoccupation. George drank the cup of coffee, then poured a second one.
    He picked the faded old magazines from the crate and gingerly began thumbing through the pages. Uncle Asimov had kept these publications for so many years. How many times had he read them? George considered feeding the pages into the automatic reader so he could enjoy the articles. Then, drawing a deep breath and setting his jaw with determination, he sat back with his hand-made cup of coffee and read the words for himself. He found it quite an unusual experience. Though he hadn’t intended to, George stayed up long into the night.
    #
    The next day at his job in the factory, George looked down at the industrial line, the clanking conveyor belts, the whirring robot arms busily producing the best sprockets money could buy, the mechanical inspectors that monitored all the steps in the operation. Wearing his supervisor’s cap and uniform, George stood at his post and watched the robots, just as he had done every day in his career.
    Though he was a supervisor, George didn’t exactly know what he was doing. The more he thought about it, he realized that he had never really known what he was doing.
    He saw his boss in the glassed-in office, lording over the assembly line. He was a short, balding man with dark hair and a large moustache. George had always thought of him as a good boss, though the man’s temper was often on a short fuse. George had never really thought about it before, but he didn’t quite understand what his boss did either. His job seemed to entail looking down at George and his fellow supervisors, as they in turn looked down at the robotic assembly line. The robots automatically did everything on their own.
    George left his station, his brow furrowed with questions. He took the whirring lift platform that raised him up to the boss’s office. The balding man was quite surprised to see him. “Why have you left your post? That simply isn’t done!”
    “But why not, Mr. S.?” He fumbled to articulate his question. “What am I actually doing down there?”
    “The assembly line can’t be run without you. A supervisor at every station, and a station for every supervisor. How do you expect sprockets to be made and for us to meet our inventory goals if you shirk your duties? The whole company depends on you, um—” He looked at the name patch on George’s shirt. “George.”
    “But, sir, what is my job? I don’t even know what a sprocket is.”
    The boss scratched his moustache and sat down at his desk. “George, don’t ask me such complicated questions. Sprockets are vitally important items, and you’ve got a job to do.”
    “Actually, sir, the robots are doing it. They run everything on the assembly line. In all my years of working here at the sprocket factory I haven’t had to push a single button.”
    “Then that proves you’re doing a good job. No breakdowns, no emergencies. Keep up the good work, George.”
    “Mr. S., does anybody really know how anything works in this factory?”
    “That’s in the hands of the general manager.” With a jerk of his head, Mr. S. nodded toward the ceiling, indicating other floors in the skyscraper overhead.
    George went back to his station and watched the robots continue to work for the rest of the day.
    #
    That night he came home from work with a brilliant idea. The rest of the family considered it a disaster.
    While Judy and Elroy sat at the table and Jane pondered the evening meal in front of the food replicator, George sauntered into the kitchen holding a can of chili and a can of soup. “Let’s try these. It’ll be like nothing we’ve ever had before.”
    Judy seemed horrified. “The pictures on the label look gross.”
    “Where’s your sense of