The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D. Simak Read Free Book Online

House insisted, “be a good idea for you to see a medic.”
    Blake laid down the paper and opened his mouth—then closed it firmly. After all, officious as it might be, the House had his good at heart. It was a servo-mechanism and its sole thought and purpose was to serve the human that it sheltered.
    â€œPerhaps,” he said, “you’re right.”
    For there was no question that there was something wrong. Within less than twenty-four hours something strange had happened to him twice.
    â€œThere was that doctor in Washington,” he said. “At the hospital where they took me to revive me. I think his name was Daniels.”
    â€œDr. Michael Daniels,” said the House.
    â€œYou know his name?”
    â€œOur file on you,” said the House, “is really quite complete. How, otherwise, could we serve you as we are supposed to do?”
    â€œYou have his number, then. You could call him.”
    â€œWhy, of course. If you wish me to.”
    â€œIf you please,” said Blake.
    He laid the paper on the table and got up and walked into the living room. He sat down before the phone and the small vision panel lit up, flickering.
    â€œIn just a moment, sir,” said the House.
    The panel cleared and in it were the head and shoulders of Dr. Michael Daniels.
    â€œAndrew Blake. You remember me?”
    â€œCertainly I remember you,” said Daniels. “I was wondering just last night about you. How you were getting on.”
    â€œPhysically, I’m O.K.,” said Blake. “But I’ve been having—well, until you find otherwise, I suppose you’d call them hallucinations.”
    â€œBut you don’t think they are hallucinations.”
    â€œI’m fairly sure they’re not,” said Blake.
    â€œCould you come in?” asked Daniels. “I’d like to check you out.”
    â€œI’d be glad to come in, doctor.”
    â€œWashington’s bulging at the seams,” said Daniels. “Everything is full. People coming in for the bioengineering show. There’s a housing lot just across the street from us. Can you wait while I make a check?”
    â€œI can wait,” said Blake.
    Daniels’ face disappeared and the fuzzy blur of an office, out of focus, danced vaguely on the screen.
    Kitchen’s voice bellowed: “One oatmeal cooked and waiting. Also toast. Also eggs and bacon. Also a pot of coffee.”
    â€œMaster’s busy on the phone,” said the House, disapprovingly. “And all he ordered was the oatmeal.”
    â€œHe might change his mind,” said Kitchen. “Oatmeal might not be enough. He might be hungrier than he thought. You would not want it said that we were starving him.”
    Daniels came back into the panel.
    â€œThanks for waiting,” he said. “I checked. There is no space available right now. There’ll be one foundation in the morning. I reserved it for you. Can it wait that long?”
    â€œI think it can,” said Blake. “I only want to talk with you.”
    â€œWe could talk right now.”
    Blake shook his head.
    â€œI understand,” said Daniels. “See you tomorrow, then. Let’s say one o’clock. What are your plans today?”
    â€œI haven’t any plans.”
    â€œWhy don’t you go fishing. Get your mind off things. Occupy yourself. Are you a fisherman?”
    â€œI don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. It seems to me I may have been. The sport has a familiar sound to it.”
    â€œThings still dribbling back,” said Daniels. “Still remembering …”
    â€œNot remembering. Just the background. Pieces of it falling into shape now and then. But it doesn’t really tell me anything. Someone mentions something or I read of something and it’s suddenly familiar, a statement or a fact or a situation that I can accept. Something that I’ve known or encountered at some former time,