"FWLS39" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

Fant--"

"I think you're getting to personal," I said, cutting him
off.

"Alright, alright. Look, let's make this a LOT easier. See
that slot with the blue arrow over it? Stick your finger in
there."

I shrugged, and did so. Nothing happened.

"Yeek. You've got a lot going on up there. So much angst.
You'd make a great character in one of my books, but I digress.
That's the end of the questionnaire."

"But you didn't ask much! I mean, with other services, I'm
there for hours filling out forms--"

"That's what the slot's for, kid. I read your neural
impulses. Hang on a second, I think I have just the gal for you.
Enjoy a little light music."

Bob Dylan's rendition of 'Enter Sandman' (elevator version)
churbled through the booth's tiny speaker. Cupid cut it off at
the fifth note.

"Got one! PERFECT! Yes, the Cupid guy comes through again.
Lemme just make some split-second arrangements so this'll come
off without a hitch... done. I'll make some more calls after you
leave and get everything set up. Go to this address..." An
address in cute crayon letters popped up on the screen. I
scribbled it down. "Wear a blue shirt. Call the number at the
bottom of the screen if you have any problems. Have fun, pal!
And remember, I want my payment within the week. Twenty
credits."

The light switched off, as did the monitor.

"Hello?" I asked.

Nobody answered back. The booth was clearly off.

*

The address didn't lead me to the door of some beautiful
goddess who would whisk my troubles away and lead me to a life of
serenity and happiness. Actually, it was just a standard C'atel
club.

The standard C'atel club consists of the following, in