Philip Dick: Sales Pitch

«For God’s sake,» Morris muttered. «We—»

«An H-bomb attack may never occur,» the robot continued, «but in such an event a fasrad is indispensable.» It knelt down and pulled an intricate tube from its waist. Aiming the tube at the floor it atomized a hole five feet in diameter. It stepped back from the yawning pocket. «I have not extended this tunnel, but you can see a fasrad would save your life in case of attack.»

The word attack seemed to set off a new train of reactions in its metal brain.

«Sometimes a thug or hood will attack a person at night,» it continued. Without warning it whirled and drove its fist through the wall. A section of the wall collapsed in a heap of powder and debris. 'That takes care of the thug.» The robot straightened out and peered around the room. ''Often you are too tired in the evening to manipulate the buttons -on the stove.» It strode into the kitchen and began punching the stove controls; immense quantised of food spilled in all directions.

«Stop!» Sally cried. «Get away from my stove!»

«You may be too weary to run water for your bath.» The robot tripped the controls of the tub and water poured down. «Or you may wish to go right to bed.» It yanked the bed from its concealment and threw it flat. Sally retreated' in fright as the robot advanced toward her. «Sometimes after a hard day at work you are too tired to remove your clothing. In that event—»

«Get out of here!» Morris shouted at it. «Sally, run and get the cops. The thing’s gone crazy. Hurry»

«The fasrad is a necessity in all modern homes,» the robot continued. «For example, an appliance may break down. The fasrad repairs it instantly.» It seized the automatic humidity control and

tore the wiring and replaced it on

the wall. «Sometimes you would prefer not to go to work. The fasrad is permitted by law to occupy your position for a consecutive period not to exceed ten days. If, after that period—»

«Good God,» Morris said, as understanding finally came. «You’re the fasrad.»

«That’s right,» the robot agreed. «Fully Automatic Self-Regulating Android (Domestic). There is also the fasrac (Construction), the fasram (Managerial), the fasras (Soldier), and the fasrab (Bureaucrat). I am designed for home use.

«You—» Sally gasped. «You’re for sale. You’re selling yourself.»

«I am demonstrating myself,» the fasrad, me robot, answered. Its impassive metal eyes were fixed intently on Morrison as it continued, «1 am sure, Mr. Morris, you would like to own me. I am reasonably priced and fully guaranteed. A full book of instructions is included. I cannot conceive of taking no for an answer.»

AT HALF , past twelve, Ed Morris still sat at the foot of the bed, one shoe on, the other in his hand. He gazed vacantly ahead. He said nothing.

«For heaven’s sake,» Sally complained. «Finish untying that knot and get into bed; you have to be up at five-thirty.’’

Morris fooled aimlessly with the shoelace. After awhile he dropped the shoe and tugged at the other one. The house was cold and silent. Outside, the dismal night-wind whipped and lashed at the cedars that grew along the side of the building. Sally lay curled up beneath the radiant-lens, a cigarette between her lips, enjoying the warmth and half-dozing.

In the livingroom stood the fasrad. It hadn’t left. It was still there, was waiting for Morris to buy it.

«Come on!» Sally said sharply. «What’s wrong with you? It fixed all the things it broke; it was just demonstrating itself.» She sighed drowsily. «It certainly gave me a scare. I thought something had gone wrong with it. They certainly had an inspiration, sending it around to sell itself to people.»

Morris said nothing.

Sally rolled over on her stomach and languidly stubbed out her cigarette. «That’s not so much, is it? Ten thousand gold units, and if we get our friends to buy one we get a five per cent commission. All we have to do is show it. It isn’t as if we had to sell it. It sells itself.» She giggled. «They always wanted a product that sold itself, didn’t they?»

Morris untied the knot in his shoelace. He slid his shoe back on and tied it tight.

«What are you doing?» Sally demanded angrily. «You come to bed!» She sat up furiously, as Morris left the room and moved slowly down the hall. «Where are you going?»

In the livingroom, Morris switched on the light and sat down facing the fasrad. «Can you hear~me?» he said.

«Certainly,» the fasrad answered. «I’m never inoperative. Sometimes an emergency occurs at night: a child is sick or an accident takes place. You have no children as yet, but in the event—»

«Shut up,» Morris said, «I don't want to hear you.»

«You asked me a question. Self- regulating androids are plugged in to a central information exchange. Sometimes a person wishes immediate information; the fasrad is always ready to answer any theoretical or factual inquiry. Anything not metaphysical.»

Morris picked up the book of instructions and thumbed it. The fasrad did thousands of things; it never wore out; it was never at a loss; it couldn't make a mistake. He threw the book away. «I’m not going to buy you,» he said to it. «Never. Not in a million years.»

«Oh, yes you are,» the fasrad corrected. «This is an opportunity you can’t afford to miss.» There was calm, metallic confidence in its voice. «You can’t turn me down, Mr. Morrison. A fasrad is an indispensable necessity in the modern home.»

«Get out of here,» Morris said evenly. «Get out of my house and don’t come back.»

«I’m not your fasrad to order around. Until you’ve purchased me at the regular list price, I’m responsible only to Self-Regulating Android Inc. Their instructions were to the contrary; I’m to remain with you until you buy me.»

«Suppose I never buy you?» Morris demanded, but in- his heart ice formed even as he asked. Already he felt the cold terror of the answer that was coming; there could be no other.

«I’ll continue to remain with you,» the fasrad said; «eventually you’ll buy me.» It plucked some withered roses from a vase on the mantel and dropped them into its disposal slot. «You will see more and more situations in which a fasrad is indispensable. Eventually you’ll wonder how you ever existed without one.»

«Is there anything you can’t do ?»

«Oh, yes; there’s a great deal I can’t do. But I can do anything you can do—and considerably better.»

MORRIS LET out his breath slowly. «I’d be insane to buy you.»

«You’ve got to buy me,» the impassive voice answered. The fasrad extended a hollow pipe and began cleaning the carpet. «I am useful in all situations. Notice how fluffy and free of dust this rug is.» It withdrew the pipe and extended another. Morris coughed and staggered quickly away; clouds of white particles billowed out and filled every part of the room.

«I am spraying for moths,» the fasrad explained.

The white cloud turned to an ugly blueblack. The room faded into ominous darkness; the fasrad was a dim shape moving methodically about in the center. Presently the cloud lifted and the furniture emerged.

«I sprayed for harmful bacteria,» the fasrad said.

It painted the walls of the room and constructed new furniture to go with them. It reinforced the ceiling in the bathroom. It increased the number of heat- vents from the furnace. It put in new electrical wiring. It tore out all the fixtures in the kitchen and assembled more modern ones. It examined Morris’ financial accounts and computed his income tax for the following year. It sharpened all the pencils; it caught hold of his wrist and quickly diagnosed his high blood- pressure as psychosomatic.