"Robert Sheckley. The Day The Aliens Came (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

our closest competitor, Passion Unlimited. Moreover, our fees are far more
reasonable, and bring you an improved product. Might I ask how you heard of us?
Did you see our full page ad in the Times? Or - "
"Joe sent me," Simon said.
"Ah, he's an active one," Mr. Tate said, shaking his head playfully. "Well, sir,
there's no reason to delay. You've come a long way for love, and love you shall
have." He reached for a button on his desk, but Simon stopped him.
Simon said, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but..."
"Yes?" Mr. Tate said, with an encouraging smile.
"I don't understand this," Simon blurted out, flushing deeply, beads of
perspiration standing out on his forehead. "I think I'm in the wrong place. I
didn't come all the way to Earth just for ... I mean, you can't really sell
love, can you? Not love! I mean, then it isn't really love, is it?"
"But of course!" Mr. Tate said, half rising from his chair in astonishment.
"That's the whole point! Anyone can buy sex. Good lord, it's the cheapest thing
in the universe, next to human life. But love is rare, love is special, love is
found only on Earth. Have you read our brochure?"
"Bodies on a dark sea-beach?" Simon asked.
"Yes, that one. I wrote it. Gives something of the feeling, doesn't it? You
can't get that feeling from just anyone, Mr. Simon. You can get that feeling
only from someone who loves you."
Simon said dubiously, "It's not genuine love, though is it?"
"Of course it is! If we were selling simulated love, we'd label it as such. The
advertising laws on Earth are strict, I can assure you. Anything can be sold,
but it must be labelled properly, That's ethics, Mr. Simon!"
Tate caught his breath, and continued in a calmer tone. "No, sir, make no
mistake, our product is not a substitute. It is the exact self-same feeling that
poets and writers have raved about for thousands of years. Through the wonders
of modern science we can bring this feeling to you at your convenience,
attractively packaged, completely disposable, and for a ridiculously low price."
Simon said, "I pictured something more - spontaneous."
"Spontaneity has its charm," Mr. Tate agreed. "Our research labs are working on
it. Believe me, there's nothing science can't produce, as long as there's a
market for it."
"I don't like any of this," Simon said, getting to his feet. "I think I'll just
go see a movie."
"Wait!" Mr. Tate cried. "You think we're trying to put something over on you.
You think we'll introduce you to a girl who will act as though she loved you,
but who in reality will not. Is that it?"
"I guess so," Simon said.
"But it just isn't so! It would be too costly for one thing. For another, the
wear and tear on the girl would be tremendous. And it would be psychologically
unsound for her to attempt living a lie of such depth and scope."
"Then how do you do it?"
"By utilizing our understanding of science and the human mind."
To Simon, this sounded like double-talk. He moved towards the door.
"Tell me something," Mr. Tate said. "You're a bright-looking fellow. Don't you
think you could tell real love from a counterfeit item."
"Certainly."
"There's your safeguard! You must be satisfied, or don't pay us a cent."