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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Mike Finnigan was a natural-born trouble-maker. This put him very much at odds with his world for a starter. Because his world was geared not to allow trouble for its inhabitants. Specifically, humans wore a built-in wristband which monitored their emotional state at all times. Came trouble, and zoom! An android with a soothing shot, ready to solve all problems. It never seemed to occur to any android that a human could be so damn contrary that they might not like to have all problems solved. Or so it appeared. But because Mike was a natural-born trouble-maker it did occur to him to wonder--how come all these well-intentioned androids got to be more and more while all the happy humans got to be less and less. Which was all very well, but it is extremely difficult to bug the Establishment when you yourself are carrying a bug. So, getting rid of that was the first order of business. Trouble was well on its way.

eBook Publisher: Golden Apple, Wallasey, Published: USA, 1973
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2004

11 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [203 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [207 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [173 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [624 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [197 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [324 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [223 KB] , hiebook (KML) [472 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [248 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [161 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [201 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [247 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [263 KB]
Words: 60007
Reading time: 171-240 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Mike Finnigan stirred in his sleeping pod and opened his eyes to a low lumen count of pearl gray flushed with cyclamen.

Two meters off, a twin cocoon was the only other object on the set. A pale brown, neatly turned arm hanging over its rim reminded him that he was not alone in his pastel limbo. He sat up and the pod reacted to the shift of gravity and floated down to the deck to give him out.

It was another day in the endless succession of similar days and he reckoned anybody could have it who wanted it.

That came under the heading of maladjustment and he knew he could alter it by turning the dial of his mood-control disk, a permanent fixture on his left wrist. Its needle was edging into the red quadrant and maybe already it was sending out a signal to the nearest monitor.

With conscious and determined effort he set himself to thinking optimistically. He even whistled a few bars of a popular tune.

The needle crept bark from its crisis sector and stabilized on no affective tone.

Once he was up and about, the room had more definition and was small at that, seven meters either way, with one wall half taken up by an elaborate console which had pushed itself forward when his weight came onto the sprung floor, ready and eager to oblige with all reasonable services. Curiosity, evolution's handmaid, moved him to pad first to the floating pod and check out the sleeper.

She was a refined Nordic job, 914-610-914 at a guess, with a fragment of pink foam plastic lodged in her navel and moving up and down to a gentle rhythm. Valerie? Moira? Sandra? Babette? Names of recent partners flipped through his head. Then he got a neck-lock on total recall. It was Lindsay. Lindsay Avison. WC/LA/4392/18. Drafted in by random selection on yesterday's quarterly exchange and due to share his niche in time for the next three months to the winter solstice.

Her left hand deployed on the lower abdomen made her mood disk easy to read. It was set fair. The needle was nudging zero. No stress or complication. She liked what she did and was fixed to go on doing it.