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FOR US THE LIVING BY ROBERT A. HEINLEIN

“I should say that it wasn’t bad, considering the limitations of a half-tone reproduction.”

“The surprising thing is that it looks like you at all.”

“Why do you say that, Diana? Don’t you believe me?” His hurt showed plainly in his face.

“Oh, no, no. I believe that you are telling the literal truth—insofar as you know it. But think, Perry. The head that was photographed to take this picture has—if this newspaper account is true—been dust for more than a century.”

Perry stared at her and a look of horror crept into his eyes. He closed his eyes and clasped his head between his palms. He remained thus, face averted and body tensed for several minutes until he felt a gentle touch on his hair. Diana bent over him, pity and compassion in her eyes. “Perry, please. Listen to me. I didn’t mean to distress you. I wouldn’t hurt you intentionally. I want to be your friend if you will let me.”

Gently she removed his hands from his temples. “It is a strange and marvelous thing that has happened to you, Perry, and I don’t understand it at all. In some ways it is horrible and certainly terrifying. But it could be much worse—much worse. This is not a bad world in which you have landed. I think it is a rather kindly world. I like it and I am sure it must be better than being crushed and broken at the foot of the palisades. Please, Perry, I’d like to help you.”

He patted her hand. “You’re a good kid, Dian’, I’ll be all right. It’s the shock more than anything. The realization that all that world I know is dead and gone. I knew it of course when you told me what year it was, but I didn’t realize it until you pointed out to me that I’m dead, too—or at least that my body died.” He jumped to his feet. “But say!—if my body is dead, where in God’s name did I get this!”—and he slapped his side.

“I don’t know, Perry, but I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Not just yet. But we can start a little action toward finding out. Come with me.” She opened out the drawer containing the communication instrument, and pushed one button. A pretty red-headed girl appeared on the screen and smiled. Diana spoke. “Reno, please relay Washington, Bureau of records, Identification Sector.”

“Check, Diana.” The red head faded out.

“Does she know you?”

“Probably recognized me. You will understand.”

Shortly another face appeared, that of an iron grey studious man. Diana spoke. “Identification requested.”

“Which one of you?”

“Him.”

“Check. Take position.” The face turned away and a camera-like apparatus appeared.

“Put up your right hand, Perry,” whispered Diana. Perry did so. The grey haired man re-appeared.

“Listen, how can I analyze if you don’t hold position? Haven’t you ever used a phone before?”

“I—I guess not.” Perry looked confused.

The slight irritation vanished from the man’s voice. “What’s the trouble, friend? Lost your continuity?”

“I guess you’d call it that.”

“That’s different. I’ll fix you up in no time. Then you’ll probably have no trouble to orient. Now do just as I tell you. Right hand, palm toward me about twenty centimeters from the screen. Down a little. Now just a hair closer. Your palm is tilted. Get it parallel to the screen. There. Hold it steady.” A soft shirring and a click. “That’s all. Do you want a full dossier or just name and number?”

Diana cut in. “Brief of dossier, please, with last entry in full.

Televuestat Reno station, tube delivery G610L-400-48, expedited rate.”

“Charge to him when I get his number?”

“No, to me, Diana, 160-398-400-48A.”

“Oooh! I thought I recognized you.”

“This is private action.” Diana’s voice was cool and crisp.

The man looked indignant, then his face became impassive. “Madam, I am an official clerk of the Bureau of Records. I thoroughly understand the spheres of public and private action, and my oath and charge.”

Diana melted at once. “I’m sorry. I truly am. Please forgive me.”

He relaxed and smiled. “Of course, Miss Diana. You probably have to insist on the spheres. But, if you will permit, it would be an honor to provide this service for you.”

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Categories: Heinlein, Robert
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