Philip Dick - We Can Build You

The Lincoln smiled as it sipped its coffee.

"I wonder what Pris is doing now," Maury said. "Packing, maybe. It seems awful, her not here with us. Part of the team."

We lost a lot of people back there in the office, I realized. We got rid of Barrows, Dave Blunk, Mrs. Nild, and to our surprise, Pris Frauenzimmer and our vital sole engineer, Bob Bundy. I wonder if we'll ever see Barrows again. I wonder if we'll ever see Bob Bundy again. I wonder if we'll ever see Pris again, and if we do, will she be changed?

"How could she sell us out like that?" Maury wondered aloud. "Going over to the other side--that clinic and that Doctor Horstowski did nothing, exactly nothing, for all that time and money. What loyalty did she show? I mean, I want all that money back I've shelled out. But her; I don't care if I ever see her again--I'm through with her. I mean it."

To change the subject I said to the Lincoln, "Do you have any other advice for us, sir? As to what we should do?"

"I fear I did not help you as much as I had hoped to," the Lincoln said. "With a woman there is no prediction; fate enters in a capricious form... however, I suggest you retain me as your legal counsel. As they retain Mr. Blunk."

"A terrific idea," I said, getting out my checkbook. "How much do you require as a retainer?"

"Ten dollars is sufficient," the Lincoln said. So I wrote the check out for that amount; he accepted it and thanked me.

Maury, deep in his brooding, glanced up to say, "The going retainer is at least two hundred these days; the dollar isn't worth what it used to be."

"Ten will do," the Lincoln said. "And I will begin to draw up the papers of sale of MASA ASSOCIATES to your piano factory at Boise. As to ownership. I suggest that a limited corporation be formed, much like Mr. Barrows suggested, and I will look into the law these days to see how the stock should be distributed. It will take me time to do research, I fear, so you must be patient."

"That's okay," I said. The loss of Pris had certainly deeply affected us, especially Maury. Loss instead of gain; that was how we had fared at Barrows' hands. And yet--was there any way we could have escaped? The Lincoln was right. It was the unpredictable at work in our lives; Barrows had been as surprised as we were.

"Can we build simulacra without her?" I asked Maury.

"Yeah. But not without Bob Bundy."

"You can get somebody to replace him," I said.

But Maury did not care about Bundy; he was still thinking only about his daughter. "I'll tell you what wrecked her," he said. "That goddam book _Marjorie Morningstar_."

"Why?" I said. It was terrible to see Maury slipping away like this, into these random, pointless expostulations. It resembled senility. The shock had been that great.

"That book," Maury said, "gave Pris the idea she could meet someone rich and famous and handsome. Like you know who. Like Sam K. Barrows. It's an old-country idea about marriage. Cold-blooded, marrying because it's to your advantage. The kids in this country marry for love, and maybe that's sappy, but at least it's not calculating. When she read that book she began to get calculating about love. The only thing that could have saved Pris--if she had fallen head over heels in love with some boy. And now she's gone." His voice broke. "Let's face it; this isn't a business only. I mean, it's a business all right. But not the simulacrum business. She wants to sell herself to him and get something back; you know what I mean, Louis." He shook his head, gazing at me hopelessly. "And he can give her what she wants. And she knows it."

"Yeah," I said.

"I should never have let him come near her. But I don't blame him; it's her fault. Anything that happens to her now is her fault. Whatever she does and becomes around him. We better watch the newspapers, Louis. You know how they always write up what Barrows does. We can find out about Pris from the goddam newspapers." He turned his head away and drank noisily from his coffee cup, not letting us see his face.

We were all embarrassed. We all hung our heads.

After a time the Stanton simulacrum said, "When do I assume my new duties as Chairman of the Board?"

"Any time you want," Maury said.

"Is that agreeable with you other gentlemen?" the Stanton asked us. My dad and I nodded; so did the Lincoln. "Then I will take it that I hold that post now, gentlemen." It cleared its throat, blew its nose, fussed for a time with its whiskers. "We must begin the work ahead of us. A merger of the two companies will bring about a new period of activity. I have given thought to the product which we shall manufacture. I do not believe it would be wise to bring into existence more Lincoln simulacra, nor more--" It reflected, and a caustic, sardonic grimace passed over its features. "More Stantons, for that matter. One of each is enough. For the future let us bring forth something more simple. It will ameliorate our mechanical problems, as well; will it not? I must examine the workmen and equipment and see if all is as it ought to be... nevertheless, even now I am confident that our enterprise can produce some simple, worthy product desired by all, some simulacra not unique or complex and yet needed. Perhaps workers who can themselves produce more simulacra."

It was a good--but frightening--idea, I thought.

"In my opinion," the Stanton said, "we should design, execute, and begin to build at once a standard, uniform item. It will be the first official simulacrum produced by our enterprise, and long before Mr. Barrows has made use of Miss Frauenzimmer's knowledge and talents we will have it on the market and fully advertised."

We all nodded.

"I suggest specifically," the Stanton said, "a simulacrum which does one simple task for the home, and on that basis sell it: a babysitter. And we should relieve the complexity of it so that it may sell for as low a figure as possible. For example, forty dollars."

We glanced at each other; it wasn't a bad idea at all.

"I have had the opportunity of seeing this need," the Stanton continued, "and I know that if it were adequate to mind the children of a family at all times, it would be an instantly salable item, and we would have in the future no problems of a financial nature. So I shall ask for a vote as to that proposal. All those favoring it say 'Aye.'"

I said, "Aye."

Maury said, "Aye."

After a moment of consideration my father said, "I, too."

"Then the motion has been carried," the Stanton declared. It sipped its coffee for a moment, and then, putting the cup down on the counter, it said in a stern, confident voice, "The enterprise needs a name, a new name. I propose we call the enterprise R & R ASSOCIATES OF BOISE, IDAHO; is that satisfactory?" It glanced around at us. We were nodding. "Good." It patted its mouth with its paper napkin. "Then let us begin at once; Mr. Lincoln, as our solicitor, will you be good enough as to see to it that our legal papers are in order? If necessary, you may obtain a younger lawyer more experienced in the current legalities; I authorize you to do that. We shall begin our work at once; our future is full of honest, active endeavor, and we shall not dwell on the past, on the unpleasantness and setbacks which we have experienced so recently. It is essential, gentlemen, that we look ahead, not back--can we do that, Mr. Rock? Despite all temptation?"

"Yeah," Maury said. "You're right, Stanton." From his coat pocket he got matches; stepping from his stool he went up to the cash register at the counter and fished about in the cigar boxes there. He returned, with two long gold-wrapped cigars, one of which he gave to my dad. "Elconde de Guell," he said. "Made in the Philippines." He unwrapped his and lit up; my father did the same.

"We will do well," my father said, puffing away.