Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Analog March 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.ILLUSTRATED
BY
KRENKEL
HIS MASTER'S VOICE
ANALOG SCIENCE FACT · SCIENCE FICTION
Spaceship McGuire had lots of knowledge—but no wisdom. He wassmart—but incredibly foolish. And, as a natural consequence, tended toask questions too profound for any philosopher—questions like "Who areyou?"
By RANDALL GARRETT
I'd been in Ravenhurst's office on the mountain-sized planetoid calledRaven's Rest only twice before. The third time was no better; ShalimarRavenhurst was one of the smartest operators in the Belt, but when itcame to personal relationships, he was utterly incompetent. He couldmake anyone dislike him without trying.
When I entered the office, he was[3] sitting behind his mahogany desk,his eyes focused on the operation he was going through with a wineglassand a decanter. He didn't look up at me as he said:
"Sit down, Mr. Oak. Will you have some Madeira?"
I decided I might as well observe the pleasantries. There was no pointin my getting nasty until he did. "Thank you, Mr. Ravenhurst, I will."
He kept his eyes focused on his work: It isn't easy to pour wine on aplanetoid where the gee-pull is measured in fractions of a centimeterper second squared. It moves slowly, like ropy molasses, but you haveto be careful not to be fooled by that. The viscosity is just as lowas ever, and if you pour it from any great height, it will go scootingright out of the glass[4] again. The momentum it builds up is enough tomake it splash right out again in a slow-motion gush which gets it allover the place.
Besides which, even if it didn't splash, it would take it so long tofall a few inches that you'd die of thirst waiting for it.
Ravenhurst had evolved a technique from long years of practice.He tilted the glass and the bottle toward each other, their edgestouching, like you do when you're trying to pour beer without putting ahead on it. As soon as the wine wet the glass, the adhesive forces atwork would pull more wine into the wine glass. To get capillary actionon a low-gee asteroid, you don't need a capillary, by any means. Thenegative meniscus on the wine was something to see; the first timeyou see it, you get the eerie feeling that the glass is spinning andthrowing the wine up against the walls by centrifugal force.
I took the glass he offered me (Careful! Don't slosh!) and sipped atit. Using squirt tubes would have been a hell of a lot easier andneater, but Ravenhurst liked to do things his way.
He put the stopper back in the decanter, picked up his own glass andsipped appreciatively. Not until he put it back down on the desk againdid he raise his eyes and look at me for the first time since I'd comein.
"Mr. Oak, you have caused me considerable trouble."
"I thought we'd hashed all that out, Mr. Ravenhurst," I said, keepingmy voice level.
"So had I. But it appears that there were more ramifications to youraction than we had at first supposed." His voice had the texture ofheavy linseed oil.
He waited, as if he expected me to make some reply to that. WhenI didn't, he sighed slightly and went on. "I fear that you haveinadvertently sabotaged McGuire. You were commissioned to preventsabotage, Mr.