SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE
By JAMES STAMERS
Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine April 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
What I wanted was a good night's sleep. What
I got was visitation rights with the most
exasperating pack of sleepwalkers in history.
A fried egg came floating up through the stone steps of the MedicalCenter and broke on my shoe. According to my watch, it was time forthe breakfast I didn't have that morning, so I waited a moment for theusual two rashers of bacon.
When they materialized, I hopped aside to avoid them and went back intothe building, where the elevator took me straight up to the psychiatricfloor, without asking.
"Your blood pressure, salts, minerals, vitamins, basal metabolism,brain pattern, nervous reflexes and skin temperature control are withinaccepted tolerances," it droned, opening the doors to let me off. "Youhave no clinical organic disorders; you weigh a hundred and fifty-twopounds, Earth, measure six feet one inch, and have a clear pallidcomplexion and an egg on your shoe."
I walked down the corridor to Dr. Doogle Spacio-Psycho Please Enterand went determinedly in.
"Name, please," said the blonde receptionist, tapping her nail eroder.
"Jones. Harry Jones."
"Mr. Harry K. Jones, the physicist?"
"Yes."
"Oh, no," she said, fiddling with the appointment list, "Mr. Harry K.Jones has just had his morning appointment and left."
"I know," I said. "An important piece of clinical data has just turnedup. I have returned with an egg on my shoe."
"I think you'd better see the doctor."
I sat down to wait and took the little bottle of pills from my pocket."From the Galaxy to you, through Dr. Doogle, Spacio-Psycho," it said onthe label. "The last word in tranquilizers. Conservative Zen methodsonly, appointments any hour, first consultation free, no obligation,call personal transmitter DDK 51212-6790, Earth. Active ingredientsoxylatohydrobenzoic-phe-ophenophino, sugar, coloring to 100%."
The inner office door opened and Dr. Doogle smiled fatly at me frombehind his expensive desk.
"Do come in," he called, "and tell me all about it."
"It's happened again," I said, going into his office.
"Well, why not, if you feel that way? Nurse, bring me Mr. Hing-humph'scase history."
"Mr. Har-ry K. Jo-nes' film is in the transcriber, Doctor," said thereceptionist. "Mr. Jones, the physicist."
"Ah, yes, of course. Please sit down, Mr. Jones. Now what exactly isthe trouble? Hold nothing back, tell me all, reveal your intimatethoughts."
"The main entrance just served me the breakfast that your dietforbids," I said, sitting down.
"Plain case of wish fulfillment. Put it down to poltergeists, Mr.Jones."
"And what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Well, now," Dr. Doogle said, drumming his fat fingers, "I don't thinkwe need to go into technicalities, Mr. Jones."
"Look," I said firmly. "I came to you to get a quiet night's sleep. Nomore insomnia, you said, leave your problems in the laboratory, let notthe nucleii banish sleep, work hard, sleep hard, take tranquilizersand enjoy the useful recuperation