“I’d like you men to start work on the robots right away,” Tom went on. “I’ll show you the kind of cybernetic system I have in mind.”
At noon Chow Winkler received a phone call in his galley. Tom asked him to bring lunch for five to the conference room that adjoined the laboratory.
“Comin’ right up, boss,” Chow promised. “Crab-meat cakes an’ peach pie fresh out o’ the oven!”
Crooning a cowboy ballad, the cook loaded a lunch cart and started off. He found Tom and the other scientists busy discussing a sheaf of diagrams and sketches.
“Chow’s ready, pardners!” the Texan boomed. “Time to give your brains a rest!”
Grinning, Tom, his colleagues, and Bud, who had joined them, turned their attention to lunch. Chow chatted and joked with them. Finally he clumped out and back down the corridor.
As he walked into the galley, Chow stopped short. A man was cooking on the electronic range, his back turned to the door. He was built like a barrel and wore levis and a Western shirt under his chef’s apron.
Chow gaped in surprise. Then he felt a surge of 66 3-D TELEJECTOR
anger. “Who does this hombre think he is?” Chow fumed. “Some nerve, hornin’ in on my galley, makin’ himself right at home!”
Aloud Chow demanded, “Hold it, pardnert Jest who are you an’ what’re you doin’ here?”
The man went on cooking, paying no attention. Enraged, Chow rushed at him. Just then the intruder turned to get something off a shelf. Chow’s eyes bulged.
The man had Chow’s own face! In fact, to all outward appearances, the intruder might have been Chow Winkler himself!
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127