As soon as I
went inside and saw him sitting in a booth, I knew I’d made the error of my life
because Trivers was right in the midst of having his semen extracted. There he was in
broad daylight, being serviced by a real-life host with long blonde hair and
sparkling blue eyes. All I could do was stare straight at her and think about how I’d
waited my whole life just for the day I could go down to a sweaty Repro clinic to have
some hokey plastic doll massage my Cowper’s gland.
Once I recovered from my shock, I tried to slip away. But Trivers
couldn’t resist the opportunity for humiliation.
"Why, hello, Peterson!" he called out to me. "Good to
see you! Yes, I’m a bit preoccupied. But come join us. My extractor won’t mind,
will you Linda?"
"Not at all," she replied. "Please join us, Mr.
Peterson."
"Well, uh..."
"Come on, Peterson," he persisted. "You’ve got
to try some of my special steak this time. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever
had." He started cutting off a piece of the same unformed food that I’d seen him
eat before.
"Thank you, Clyde," I replied. "But really, I’m
not too hungry."
"Sit down anyway. Tell us what’s on your mind."
"Yes, tell us what’s on your mind," repeated Linda.
My system was a complete mess, but I sat down as calmly as I could.
Then, with Trivers in the midst of his extraction, I began describing Kale’s meeting
with Morgaux. I focused mainly on the problem caused by Morgaux giving Kale the resonator,
although I also mentioned how Kale had uncovered the true meaning of the Instability
Theorem.
To my surprise, Trivers just sat silently throughout my description.
It wasn’t until I finished speaking that he erupted into anger.
"You incompetent bithead!" he yelled. "You never
should have let Keeler accept that resonator! You disturbed the entire fate of the
universe! You fucked up big-time!"
"You fucked up big-time!" repeated Linda.
"I’m sorry," I said. "I’m very sorry."
"Sorry?" growled Trivers. "What the hell is
‘sorry’ going to do? I want the situation corrected! Immediately!"
"Of course, of course. Just tell me how you’d like it
done."
"I don’t care how! It makes no difference! Just do it, god
damn it! Before the weekend is over!"
"Absolutely," I said. "I’ll get right on it,
Clyde. I won’t rest until it’s done."
