mindreader.'
'I'm sorry,' Marvin said.
'I'm sorry, too,' Detective Urdorf said. 'About your body, I mean. It must have been quite a nasty shock.'
'Yes, it was.'
'I can well understand how you feel.'
'Thank you,' Marvin said.
They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Then Marvin said, 'Well?'
'I beg your pardon?' the detective replied.
'I said, "Well?" '
'Oh. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't hear you the first time.'
'That's quite all right.'
'Thank you.'
'You're extremely welcome.'
There was another silence. Then Marvin said, 'Well?' once again, and Urdorf said, 'I beg your pardon?'
Marvin said, 'I want it back.'
'What?'
'My body.'
'Your what? Oh yes, your body. Hmm, I dare say you do,' the detective said with an appreciative smile. 'But of course, it isn't as easy as that, is it?'
'I wouldn't know,' Marvin said.
'No, I don't suppose you would,' Urdorf said. 'But I can assure you that it isn't as easy as that.'
'I see,' Marvin said.
'I rather hoped you would,' Urdorf said, and lapsed into silence.
This silence lasted for approximately twenty-five seconds, give or take a second or two. At the end of that time Marvin's patience collapsed and he shouted, 'Goddamn it are you going to do something about getting me back my body or are you going to just sit there on your goddamned fat ass and talk without saying anything?'
'Of course I am going to get you your body,' the detective said. 'Or, in any case, I am going to try. And there is no reason for abuse. I am not, after all, some machine filled with tabulated answers, I am an intelligent being just like yourself, I have my own hopes and fears; and, more germane, I have my own way of conducting an interview. This way may seem ineffectual to you, but I have found it extremely useful.'
'Have you really?' asked Marvin, chastened.
'Why, yes, as a matter of fact I have,' the detective replied, his mild voice showing no trace of rancour.
Another silence seemed about to begin, so Marvin asked, 'What sort of chance do you think I have – we have – for recovering my body?'
'A most excellent chance,' Detective Urdorf replied. 'It is my firm belief that we will find your body soon. In fact, I think I could go so far as to say that I am certain of success. I base this not on a study of your particular case, about which I know very little at present, but on a simple examination of the statistics involved.'
'Do the statistics favour us?' Marvin asked.
'They most assuredly do. Consider: I am a trained detective, conversant with all the new methods and possessing a top efficiency rating of AA-A. Yet in spite of this, during my five years with the force, I have never solved a case.'
'Not a single one?'
'Not a single one,' Urdorf said firmly. 'Interesting, isn't it?'
'Yes, I suppose it is,' Marvin said. 'But doesn't that mean-'
'It means,' the detective said, 'that one of the strangest runs of bad luck that I have ever heard of is statistically due to break.'
Marvin was nonplussed, which is an unusual sensation in a Martian body. He said, 'But suppose your luck doesn't break?'
'You must not be superstitious,' the detective replied. 'The probabilities are there; even the most casual examination of the situation should convince you of that. I have been unable to solve 158 cases in a row. You are my 159th. How would you bet if you were a betting man?'
'I'd stay with the run,' Marvin said.
'So would I,' the detective admitted, with a self-deprecating smile. 'But we would both be wrong, and would be betting on the basis of our emotions rather than on the calculations of our intellect.' Urdorf looked at the ceiling dreamily. 'One hundred and fifty-eight failures! It's a fantastic record, an unbelievable record, especially if you grant my incorruptability, good faith, and skill. One hundred fifty-eight! A run like that simply has to break! I could probably sit here in my office and do nothing, and the criminal would find his way to me. That's how strong the
'I'm sorry,' Marvin said.
'I'm sorry, too,' Detective Urdorf said. 'About your body, I mean. It must have been quite a nasty shock.'
'Yes, it was.'
'I can well understand how you feel.'
'Thank you,' Marvin said.
They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Then Marvin said, 'Well?'
'I beg your pardon?' the detective replied.
'I said, "Well?" '
'Oh. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't hear you the first time.'
'That's quite all right.'
'Thank you.'
'You're extremely welcome.'
There was another silence. Then Marvin said, 'Well?' once again, and Urdorf said, 'I beg your pardon?'
Marvin said, 'I want it back.'
'What?'
'My body.'
'Your what? Oh yes, your body. Hmm, I dare say you do,' the detective said with an appreciative smile. 'But of course, it isn't as easy as that, is it?'
'I wouldn't know,' Marvin said.
'No, I don't suppose you would,' Urdorf said. 'But I can assure you that it isn't as easy as that.'
'I see,' Marvin said.
'I rather hoped you would,' Urdorf said, and lapsed into silence.
This silence lasted for approximately twenty-five seconds, give or take a second or two. At the end of that time Marvin's patience collapsed and he shouted, 'Goddamn it are you going to do something about getting me back my body or are you going to just sit there on your goddamned fat ass and talk without saying anything?'
'Of course I am going to get you your body,' the detective said. 'Or, in any case, I am going to try. And there is no reason for abuse. I am not, after all, some machine filled with tabulated answers, I am an intelligent being just like yourself, I have my own hopes and fears; and, more germane, I have my own way of conducting an interview. This way may seem ineffectual to you, but I have found it extremely useful.'
'Have you really?' asked Marvin, chastened.
'Why, yes, as a matter of fact I have,' the detective replied, his mild voice showing no trace of rancour.
Another silence seemed about to begin, so Marvin asked, 'What sort of chance do you think I have – we have – for recovering my body?'
'A most excellent chance,' Detective Urdorf replied. 'It is my firm belief that we will find your body soon. In fact, I think I could go so far as to say that I am certain of success. I base this not on a study of your particular case, about which I know very little at present, but on a simple examination of the statistics involved.'
'Do the statistics favour us?' Marvin asked.
'They most assuredly do. Consider: I am a trained detective, conversant with all the new methods and possessing a top efficiency rating of AA-A. Yet in spite of this, during my five years with the force, I have never solved a case.'
'Not a single one?'
'Not a single one,' Urdorf said firmly. 'Interesting, isn't it?'
'Yes, I suppose it is,' Marvin said. 'But doesn't that mean-'
'It means,' the detective said, 'that one of the strangest runs of bad luck that I have ever heard of is statistically due to break.'
Marvin was nonplussed, which is an unusual sensation in a Martian body. He said, 'But suppose your luck doesn't break?'
'You must not be superstitious,' the detective replied. 'The probabilities are there; even the most casual examination of the situation should convince you of that. I have been unable to solve 158 cases in a row. You are my 159th. How would you bet if you were a betting man?'
'I'd stay with the run,' Marvin said.
'So would I,' the detective admitted, with a self-deprecating smile. 'But we would both be wrong, and would be betting on the basis of our emotions rather than on the calculations of our intellect.' Urdorf looked at the ceiling dreamily. 'One hundred and fifty-eight failures! It's a fantastic record, an unbelievable record, especially if you grant my incorruptability, good faith, and skill. One hundred fifty-eight! A run like that simply has to break! I could probably sit here in my office and do nothing, and the criminal would find his way to me. That's how strong the
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