Player Piano Read Online Free

guess—machines that devaluate human thinking. Some of the big computers like EPICAC do that all right, in specialized fields.”
    “Uh-huh,” said Katharine thoughtfully. She rattled a pencil between her teeth. “First the muscle work, then the routine work, then, maybe, the real brainwork.”
    “I hope I’m not around long enough to see that final step. Speaking of industrial revolutions, where’s Bud?”
    “A barge was coming in, so he had to get back to work. He left this for you.” She handed him a crumpled laundry slip with Bud’s name on it.
    Paul turned the slip over and found, as he had expected, a circuit diagram for a mouse detector and alarm system that might very well work. “Astonishing mind, Katharine.”
    She nodded uncertainly.
    Paul closed his door, locked it silently, and got a bottle from under papers in a bottom drawer. He blacked out for an instant under the gloriously hot impact of a gulp of whisky. He hid the bottle again, his eyes watering.
    “Doctor Proteus, your wife is on the phone,” said Katharine on the intercom.
    “Proteus speaking.” He started to sit, and was distressed to find a small wicker basket in his chair, containing a dead black cat.
    “This is me, darling, Anita.”
    “Hello, hello, hello.” He set the basket on the floor gently, and sank into his chair. “How are you, sweetheart?” he said absently. His mind was still on the cat.
    “All set to have a good time tonight?” It was a theatrical contralto, knowing and passionate: Ilium’s Lady of the Manor speaking.
    “Been jumpy all day about the talk.”
    “Then you’ll do it brilliantly, darling. You’ll get to Pittsburgh yet. I haven’t the slightest doubt about that, Paul, not the slightest. Just wait until Kroner and Baer hear you tonight.”
    “Kroner and Baer accepted, did they?” These two were manager and chief engineer, respectively, of the entire Eastern Division, of which the Ilium Works was one small part. It was Kroner and Baer who would decide who was to get the most important job in their division, a job left vacant two weeks ago by death—the managership of the Pittsburgh Works. “How gay can a party get?”
    “Well, if you don’t like that, I have some news you will like. There’s going to be another very special guest.”
    “Hi ho.”
    “And you have to go to Homestead for some Irish whisky for him. The club hasn’t got any.”
    “Finnerty! Ed Finnerty!”
    “Yes, Finnerty. He called this afternoon and was very specific about your getting some Irish for him. He’s on his way from Washington to Chicago, and he’s going to stop off here.”
    “How long has it been, Anita? Five, six years?”
    “Not since before you got to be manager.
That
long.” She was hale, enthusiastic about Finnerty’s coming. It annoyed Paul, because he knew very well that she didn’t care for Finnerty. She was crowing, not because she was fond of Finnerty but because she enjoyed the ritual attitudes of friendships, of which she had none. Also, since he’d left Ilium,Ed Finnerty had become a man of consequence, a member of the National Industrial Planning Board; and this fact no doubt dulled her recollections of contretemps with Finnerty in the past.
    “You’re right about that being good news, Anita. It’s wonderful. Takes the edge off Kroner and Baer.”
    “Now, you’re going to be nice to them, too.”
    “Oh yes. Pittsburgh, here we come.”
    “If I tell you something for your own good, promise not to get mad?”
    “No.”
    “All right, I’ll tell you anyway. Amy Halporn said this morning she’d heard something about you and Pittsburgh. Her husband was with Kroner today, and Kroner had the impression that you didn’t
want
to go to Pittsburgh.”
    “How does he want me to tell him—in Esperanto? I’ve told him I wanted the job a dozen different ways in English.”
    “Apparently Kroner doesn’t feel you really mean it. You’ve been too subtle and modest, darling.”
    “Kroner’s a