There's a place for every man and a man for
every place, but on robot-harried Mars the
situation was just a little different.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Spring 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Harper Breen sank down gingerly into the new Relaxo-Lounge. He placedtwitching hands on the arm-rests and laid his head back stiffly. Heclosed his fluttering eyelids and clamped his mouth to keep the cornerfrom jumping.
"Just lie back, Harp," droned his sister soothingly. "Just give in andlet go of everything."
Harper tried to let go of everything. He gave in to the chair. Andgently the chair went to work. It rocked rhythmically, it vibratedtenderly. With velvety cushions it massaged his back and arms and legs.
For all of five minutes Harper stood it. Then with a frenzied lungehe escaped the embrace of the Relaxo-Lounge and fled to a gloriouslystationary sofa.
"Harp!" His sister, Bella, was ready to weep with exasperation. "Dr.Franz said it would be just the thing for you! Why won't you give it atrial?"
Harper glared at the preposterous chair. "Franz!" he snarled. "Thatprize fathead! I've paid him a fortune in fees. I haven't slept forweeks. I can't eat anything but soup. My nerves are jangling likea four-alarm fire. And what does he prescribe? A blasted jigglingbaby carriage! Why, I ought to send him the bill for it!" Completelyoutraged, he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.
"Now, Harp, you know you've never obeyed his orders. He told youlast year that you'd have to ease up. Why do you have to try to runthe whole world? It's the strain of all your business worries that'scausing your trouble. He told you to take a long vacation or you'dcrack up. Don't blame him for your own stubbornness."
Harper snorted. His large nose developed the sound magnificently."Vacation!" he snorted. "Batting a silly ball around or dragging a hookafter a stupid fish! Fine activities for an intelligent middle-agedman! And let me correct you. It isn't business worries that are drivingme to a crack-up. It's the strain of trying to get some sensible,reasonable coöperation from the nincompoops I have to hire! It's theidiocy of the human race that's got me whipped! It's the—"
"Hey, Harp, old man!" His brother-in-law, turning the pages of thenew colorama magazine, INTERPLANETARY, had paused at a double-spread."Didn't you have a finger in those Martian equatorial wells they sunktwenty years ago?"
Harper's hands twitched violently. "Don't mention that fiasco!" herasped. "That deal nearly cost me my shirt! Water, hell! Those wellsspewed up the craziest conglomeration of liquids ever tapped!"
Scribney, whose large, phlegmatic person and calm professorial brainwere the complete antithesis of Harper's picked-crow physique andscheming financier's wits, looked severely over his glasses. Harp'snervous tribulations were beginning to bore him, as well as interferewith the harmony of his home.
"You're away behind the times, Harp," he declared. "Don't you knowthat those have proved to be the most astoundingly curative springsever discovered anywhere? Don't you know that a syndicate has builtthe largest extra-terrestial hotel of the solar system there and thatpeople are flocking to it to get cured of whatever ails 'em? Old man,you missed a bet!"
Leaping from the sofa, Harper rudely snatched the magazine fromScribney's hands. He glared at the spread which depicted a star-shapedstructure of bottle-green glass resting jewel-like on the rufous rockof Mars. The main portion of the building consisted of a c