Read Online The Stardroppers by John Brunner - Free Book Online Page B

Welchman?”
    “Funnily enough, no. That’s the one Lil keeps singing the praises of, but everyone in the house has tried a sample of it out, and nobody else gets what she got from it. You?”
    “I find it the most attractive instrument I’ve listened to,” Dan admitted after a brief pause.
    “Weird,” Nick said with an air of satisfaction. “Because for me it does nothing. Nothing at all.”
    “If Lilith gets so much out of that particular model, though,” Dan suggested, “couldn’t you have—well—maybe loaned her the money for a secondhand one? She was in a terrible state when I met her yesterday, and she said it was due to being without her ’dropper.”
    “No.” The tone was final. “There’s one absolutely inflexible rule about this commune of ours; regardless of what else you put into it, you
must
contribute at least one stardropper. Lilith is a special case because she would have brought hers except that her mother smashed it up. You haven’t met her mother, have you? No, I suppose you couldn’t have. Christ, what a nasty woman!” Nick grimaced. “So, to be perfectly candid, Lil is—ah—on probation here. We had a spare room, and we discussed it, and we decided if she was really serious about living with us she’d find the wherewithal to buy a ’dropper of her favoritemake. Since we don’t have one already, it would be a valuable addition to our range.”
    “How?” Dan countered. “By saving up out of her state unemployment benefits?” He knew she was entitled to those; anyone in Britain over the legal age to leave school was, though for people whose parents were prepared to go on accommodating them the weekly allowance was a pittance. “Or—”
    He suddenly recollected what Lilith had said about doing anything he wanted her to do if he’d let her use the Binton ’dropper.
    “Or going on the streets?” he finished savagely.
    Neither Nick nor his wife was shocked by the accusation; instead, they were mildly amused. “You must be joking,” Nick said. “What makes you think there’s still money to be made on the game in this country? All the prostitutes’ old customers have died off—in London, mean. It’s different in a place like—oh—Bradford.”
    “Or where you were at school,” Barbie said. The kettle had boiled, and she was making cups of instant coffee.
    Nick chuckled. “True, true! My school was allegedly very enlightened and progressive, but when it came to my trying to take a girl to bed with me in the dormitory, they drew the line. Which is how I happened to become one of the few survivors of the old guard who lost their virginity to—ah—professional therapists. Barbie’s never got over that. But what the hell has this to do with what we’re supposed to be talking about?”
    Accepting sugar for his coffee, Dan said, “Well, I was about to ask why one has to have this vast range of different instruments, when everyone seems to settle on a personal favorite. Only we got sidetracked.”
    “Good question,” Nick nodded. “Part of the answer is that people are different, too. My favorite isn’t Barbie’s, let alone that thing Lil likes so much, which I consider grossly overrated but which nonetheless is the second or third most popular brand of all. But, contrariwise, I
like
the one Barbie prefers, and I’m coming around to the suspicion that when I’m through with my current phase it may offer me something my present favorite doesn’t. Are you with me?”
    “One can—uh—go stale on some particular instrument?” Dan suggested.
    “Oh, surely!
I
think Lilith had gone stale on her Gale and Welchman, if she got so much out of a very advanced machine like your Binton at her first attempt. Have you tried many different instruments?”
    Dan shook his head. “My friend who hooked me has a Binton, and recommended it so highly I went straight for that.”
    “If I gave you, this minute, twice what you paid for it, would you sell it to me?” Nick