Time Waits for Winthrop Read Online Free PDF

a
shkootseem
ceremony?”
    “Not since the last syzygy of Jupiter and the Sun,” the hedge admitted. “But that’s not the point. I’m still in good standing. What all you humans fail to understand about the Ganymedan religion…”
    His rustling voice trailed off as they disappeared inside the building. Mead almost spat after them. Then he recollected himself. It was two o’clock. He didn’t have much time to fool around—besides, he was in a strange world with customs insanely different from his own and who knew what the penalties were for spitting?
    “I want a government machine,” he said resignedly to the empty air.
    He felt a little foolish, but that was what they had been told to do in any emergency. And, sure enough, a gleaming affair of wires and coils and multi-colored plates appeared beside him.
    “Yes?” a toneless voice inquired. “Service needed?”
    “I’m on my way to see Mr. Storku at our Department of State,” Mr. Mead explained, staring suspiciously at the largest coil near him, “and I’m having trouble walking on the sidewalk. I’m liable to fall and kill myself if it doesn’t stop moving under me.”
    “Sorry, sir, but no one has fallen on a sidewalk for at least two hundred years. May I suggest you take a jumper?”
    “I don’t
want
to take a jumper. I want to walk. All you have to do is tell this damn sidewalk to relax and be quiet.”
    “Sorry, sir,” the machine replied, “but the sidewalk has its job to do. Besides, Mr. Storku is not at his office. He is taking some spiritual exercise at either Shriek Field or Panic Stadium.”
    “Oh, no!” Mr. Mead groaned. His worst fears had been realized. He didn’t want to go to those places again.
    “Sorry, sir, but he is. Just a moment while I check.” There were bright blue flashes among the coils. “Yes, Mr. Storku is doing a shriek today. He feels he has been over-aggressive recently. He invites you to join him.”
    M r. Mead considered. He was not the slightest bit interested in going to one of those places where sane people became madmen for a couple of hours. On the other hand, time
was
short and Winthrop
was
still stubborn.
    “All right,” he said unhappily. “I’ll join him.”
    “Shall I call a jumper, sir?”
    The portly man stepped back. “No! I’ll—I’ll walk.”
    “Sorry, sir, but you would never get there before the shriek has begun.”
    Sweetbottom’s vice-president in charge of public relations worked hard to calm himself. He must remember that this was just a machine into whose circuits a given set of vocal reactions had been built. If he had an apoplectic fit in front of it, it would merely summon another machine, a medical one. All you could do was give it information or receive information from it.
    “I-don’t-like-jumpers,”
he said between his teeth.
    “Sorry, sir, but you expressed a desire to see Mr. Storku. If you are willing to wait until the shriek is over, there is no problem, except that you would be well advised to start immediately for the Odor Festival on Venus, where he is going next. If you wish to see him now, however, you must take a jumper. There are no other possibilities, sir, unless you feel that my memory circuits are inadequate or you’d like to add a new factor to the discussion.”
    Mr. Mead sagged. “Okay, okay! Call a jumper.”
    “Yes, sir. Here you are, sir.” The empty cylinder that suddenly materialized over Mr. Mead’s head caused him to start, but while he was opening his mouth to say, “Hey! I changed my—” it slid down over him.
    There was darkness. He felt as if his stomach were being gently but insistently pulled out through his mouth. His liver, spleen and lungs seemed to follow suit. Then the bones of his body all fell inward to the center of his now-empty abdomen and dwindled in size until they disappeared. He collapsed upon himself.
    Abruptly he was whole and solid again and standing in a large green meadow, with dozens of people around him. His