The Metallic Muse by Jr. Lloyd Biggle Read Free Book Online

but Denton might hear about it, and there’s no use starting trouble before it’s necessary.” “No. Save all the trouble for the new place—after opening day we’ll be important enough to be able to handle it. And you’ll be on Morning with Marigold. Are you certain about this overtones business, Baque? You really could be projecting emotions, you know. Not that it makes any difference in the restaurant, but on visiscope—” “I’m certain. How soon can we open?” “I got three shifts remodeling the place. We’ll seat twelve hundred and still have room for a nice dance floor. Should be ready in two weeks. Baque, I’m not sure this visiscope thing is wise.” “I want to do it.” Lankey went back to the bar and got a drink for himself. “All right. You do it. If your stuff comes over, all hell is going to break loose, and I might as well start getting ready for it.” He grinned. “Damned if it won’t be good for business!”
     
    Marigold Manning had changed her hair styling to a spiraled creation by Zann of Hong Kong, and she dallied for ten minutes in deciding which profile she would present to the cameras. Baque waited patiently, his awkward feeling wholly derived from the fact that his dress suit was the most expensive clothing he had ever owned. He kept telling himself to stop wondering if perhaps he really did project emotions. “I’ll have it this way,” Marigold said finally, waving a hand screen in front of her face for a last, searching look. “And you, Mr. Baque? What shall we do with you?” “Just put me at the multichord,” Baque said. “But you can’t just play. You’ll have to say something. I’ve been announcing this every day for a week, and we’ll have the biggest audience in years, and you’ll just have to say something.” “Gladly,” Baque said, “if I can talk about Lankey’s.” “But of course, you silly man. That’s why you’re here. You talk about Lankey’s, and I’ll talk about Erlin Baque.“ ”Five minutes,“ a voice announced crisply. ”Oh, dear,“ she said. ”I’m always so nervous just before.”
    “Be happy you’re not nervous during,” Baque said. “That’s so right. Jimmy makes fun of me, but it takes an artist to understand another artist. Do you get nervous?” “When I’m playing, I’m much too busy.” “That’s just the way it is with me. Once my program starts, I’m much too busy.” “Four minutes.” “Oh, bother!” She seized the hand screen again. “Maybe I would be better the other way.” Baque seated himself at the multichord. “You’re perfect the way you are.” “Do you really think so? It’s a nice thing to say, anyway. I wonder if Jimmy will take the time to watch.” “I’m sure he will.” “Three minutes.” Baque switched on the power and sounded a chord. Now he was nervous. He had no idea what he would play. He’d intentionally refrained from preparing anything because it was his improvisations that affected people so strangely. The one thing he had to avoid was the Sex Music. Lankey had been emphatic about that. He lost himself in thought, failed to hear the final warning, and looked up startled at Marigold’s cheerful, “Good morning, everyone. It’s Morning with Marigold!” Her bright voice wandered on and on. Erlin Baque. His career as a tunesmith. Her amazing discovery of him playing in the Lankey-Pank Out. She asked the engineers to run the Tamper Cheese Com. Finally she finished her remarks and risked the distortion of her lovely profile to glance in his direction. “Ladies and gentlemen, with admiration, with pride, with pleasure, I give you a Marigold Exclusive, Erlin Baque!” Baque grinned nervously and tapped out a scale with one finger. “This is my first speech. Probably it’ll be my last. The new restaurant opens tonight. Lankey’s, on Broadway. Unfortunately I can’t invite you to join us, because thanks to Miss Manning’s generous comments this past week all space is