Time Waits for Winthrop by William Tenn Read Free Book Online Page A

than you have, instead of retreating to the security of each other’s company and such twentieth-century anachronisms as you are able to recreate.”
    “We have—all we cared to. What we want now, all of us, is to go home and to keep on living the lives we were born into. So what it comes down to is that nobody and nothing can help us with Winthrop, eh?”
    Mr. Storku called for a jumper and held up a hand to arrest the huge cylinder in the air as soon as it appeared.
    “I wouldn’t want to go as far as that without conducting a thorough personal investigation of the matter. It’s entirely possible that someone or something in the Galaxy could help you if the problem were brought to its attention and if it were sufficiently interested. It’s rather a large, well-populated galaxy, you know. All I can say definitely is that the Department of State
can’t
help you.”
    Mr. Mead pushed his fingernails deep into his palms and ground his teeth together. “You couldn’t possibly,” he asked at last, very, very slowly, “be just a little more specific in telling us where to go for help next? We have less than two hours left—and we won’t be able to cover very much of the Galaxy in that time.”
    “A good point,” Mr. Storku said approvingly. ‘I’m glad to see that you have calmed down and are at last thinking clearly and resourcefully. Now who—in this immediate neighborhood—might be able to work out the solution of an insoluble problem? Well, first there’s the Temporal Embassy, which handled the exchange and brought you people here. They have all kinds of connections; they can, if they feel like it, tap the total Ingenuity of the human race for the next five thousand years. The trouble is, they take too much of the long view for my taste.
    “Then there are the Oracle Machines which will give you the answer to any question that can be answered. The problem there, of course, is interpreting the answer correctly. Then, on Pluto, there’s a convention this week of vector psychologists. If anyone could figure out a way or persuading Winthrop to change his mind,
they
can. Unfortunately, the dominant field of interest in vector psychology at the moment is fetal education; I’m afraid they’d find your Winthrop far too mature a specimen. Then, out around Rigel, there’s a race of remarkably prescient fungi whom I can recommend from personal experience. They have a most unbelievable talent for—”
    Mr. Mead waggled a frantic hand at him. “That’s enough! That’s plenty to go on for a while! We only have two hours—remember?”
    “I certainly do. And since it’s very unlikely that you can do anything about it in so short a time, may I suggest that you drop the whole matter and take this jumper with me to Venus? There won’t be another Odor Festival there for sixty-six years. It’s an experience, my friend, that should not be missed. Venus always does these things right: the greatest odor-emitters in the Universe will be there. And I’ll be very happy to explain all the fine points to you. Coming?”
    Mr. Mead dodged out of the way of the jumper which Mr. Storku was gesturing down invitingly. “No,
thank
you! Why is it,” he complained when he had retreated to a safe distance, “that you people are always taking vacations, always going off somewhere to relax and enjoy yourselves? How the hell does any work ever get done in this cockeyed world?”
    “Oh, it gets done,” the yellow-haired young man laughed as the cylinder began to slide down over him. “Whenever there’s something that only a human being can do, one of us—the nearest responsible individual with the appropriate training—takes care of it. But our personality goals are different from yours. In the words of the proverb: All play and no work makes Jack a full boy.”
    And he was gone.
    So Mr. Mead went back to Mrs. Brucks’ room and told the others that the Department of State, represented by Mr. Storku, couldn’t help them with