In a way, I suppose. Just a quick one, you understand, to keep things alive; assuming they weren't dead already. They'll say that if crackpots -- begging your pardon -- can upset the country's prosperity any time they want, simply by making some cockeyed prediction -- it's up to the planet to prevent them. Ask him how to turn the stars on again.
Whistler shrugged. It was as though he were made up exclusively of restless fingers, drumming, drumming- But he was right. Here, he thought, was an archaic item in this computer-ridden world of the twenty-first century, a human secretary. you may not have thought of.
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