Charlie knew that somewhere in the room there was machinery4 observing him, measuring his pulse, emotional balance, probable intelligence, habits, and massing and digesting the general information so that Pugilists, Inc., would know what kind of man they were dealing5 with, and what approach would be best.
Somewhere in this building another machine was probably purring, feeding information from memory-banks, relating all known facts and incidents regarding Charlie Jingle6, his birth, environment, social and political connections, moral status, business ethics7, and bank account.... Not that Charlie Jingle was so important to them, this he knew. But Pugilists, Inc., kept records and histories of every and any individual having even the remotest connection with the fight game.
As Charlie Jingle sat there a smile twitched8 across his face. Let them figure that out, he thought, and then sank into a reverie. Over in the other part of the room, across the prairie of rug, the secretary Mento wrote efficiently9, the machine going ZZZ CLK SSHHHH CLK CLK ZZZZ, hypnotic in it's well-oiled quietness.
"Jingle?"
Charlie Jingle looked across the room to the secretary. "What?" he asked.
"Would you go in please, Mister Jingle?"
Charlie followed the direction of the girl's gesture to a panel in the wall. He got up and started to cross suspiciously toward it. As he slowed down, nearing it, he looked back at her, and she smiled and encouraged him on sympathetically toward the doorless wall. Just as Charlie thought It'd be funny if I break my nose on that goddam wall ... the panel swung in quietly.
Charlie walked through it into a room. In it there was another veldt of rug, at the far end of which was a bar, a lounge chair, a tremendous sofa, and a low, knee-high table. The walls were decorated with modern paintings in a colorful, tasteful, executive way. Standing10 near the knee-high table were three men, one distinguished11 looking, the other two looking as if they'd stepped out of a Young Collegiate Magazine ad.
The elegant one crossed to Charlie, his face a big, pleasant, well-groomed smile, hand extended.
"Allow me, Mister Jingle. I'm Kort Gassel. These two gentlemen are Jerome Rupp and Eugene White. Would you like a drink, Mister Jingle?"
Charlie Jingle shook their hands and sat down, crossing his legs comfortably.
"You got gin, Mister ahhh—"
"Straight," said Charlie Jingle, and watched the other two sit down slowly as Gassel came back with his drink.
"That's quite a drink. I know few men who enjoy straight gin, Mister Jingle. It always comes as a surprise when I—"
"You gonna give us the fight, Mister Gassel?" interrupted Charlie.
"The fight? You mean with Iron-Man Pugg?"
"That's right, with Iron-Man Pugg."
"Well Mister Jingle. Since you put the matter so straightforwardly13. Pugilists Incorporated only owns a small block of stock in Iron-Man Pugg, as you know. Mister Rupp and Mister White here represent the other interests involved. As you must know, Pugilists Incorporated is a large-scale business, designed to function on a large-scale basis. Now, we, the stockholders in Iron-Man Pugg, have thought this thing out. We've come to the conclusion that it would rather—well, embarrass the Company to agree to such a match as you propose."
"So you won't fight?"
"No, no, Mister Jingle, don't jump to hasty conclusions. I'm trying to explain something to you. It's not simply a matter of matching your—ah—boy against ours. But we are concerned with the overall effect of such a bout14. Frankly15, our reputation as a manufacturing concern is more important to us than the outcome of any single bout—"
"Whadda you say you get to the point?"
"Certainly. Tanker16 Bell, as we understand it, has a fighting history of forty-seven years. Now, I'm afraid we'd be made a laughing-stock if Tanker Bell were set into motion against one of our products."
"Especially if he won, is that it?"
"Particularly then. But we rest secure in the fact that that outcome is highly improbable, not to state impossible."
"So?" he asked, anticipating what was about to come.
"Suppose, Mister Jingle, you were offered a price for Tanker Bell, price far in excess of his actual worth. A price big enough to even make it possible for you to perhaps buy a second-rate fighter in good second-class condition."
Charlie Jingle closed his eyes and tapped his foot with horny, grease-monkey fingers. In a moment he opened them and slowly took in the three representatives of the champ, Iron-Man Pugg.
"Lemme get this straight. You want me to sell Tanker for much more than he's worth because you'd be humiliated18 at having to put one of your products in the same ring with him?"
"Exactly," said Kort Gassel.
"But you're sure your boy'd whip him in the ring?"
"Well obviously we all know the knockout victory he scored over the Contender was an accident."
Charlie Jingle nodded.
"We all know it. But there's one guy in the world who don't. You know who? Tanker Bell himself."
Kort Gassel laughed.
"A robot, Mister Jingle? Surely you must be—"
Charlie Jingle shook his head.
"Can't do it, boys. I gotta consider the Tanker. You see, Mister Gassel, Tanker thinks he could take your boy. And not only does he wanna take him, but he won't take no for an answer!"
"Listen, Jingle, is this some kind of joke? What are you holding out for? A price? When I said I'd make it worth your—"
Charlie Jingle shook his head, stubbornly and firmly.
"No price, Gassel. Just an agreement-contract."
"Listen, you fool, don't you realize what's at stake here? We're big business! We can't afford to play around with lucky independents like you!"
"Can't take any chances, huh?"
"Exactly that! Can't, and won't!"
"Wanna bet?"
"If you try to—"
Charlie Jingle got up from his seat.
"Gassel ... I've been in this racket so long I've got oil in my veins19 instead of blood, and a Reflex-Pattern Analysis for a brain. I know every angle there is to know. If I want a fight, I'll get one. So don't go try putting your big business pressure on me. I'm too old for college-boy antics."
Kort Gassel stared at him for a long, hostile moment. Then his face broke into a smile.
"My friend, do you know what you're bucking20? These are the offices of Pugilists Incorporated you're in. Don't you realize what that means?"
"Sure," said Charlie Jingle. "It means that if Tanker Bell whips Iron-Man Pugg, Charlie Jingle will one day have as big a factory and as many orders for Fighting-Machines as Pug, Inc...."
Charlie Jingle crossed the desert of rug toward the exit-panel.
"See you at Ring-side, Kids." And he went out.
点击收听单词发音
1 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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2 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
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3 hiss | |
v.发出嘶嘶声;发嘘声表示不满 | |
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4 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
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5 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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6 jingle | |
n.叮当声,韵律简单的诗句;v.使叮当作响,叮当响,押韵 | |
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7 ethics | |
n.伦理学;伦理观,道德标准 | |
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8 twitched | |
vt.& vi.(使)抽动,(使)颤动(twitch的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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9 efficiently | |
adv.高效率地,有能力地 | |
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10 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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11 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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12 soda | |
n.苏打水;汽水 | |
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13 straightforwardly | |
adv.正直地 | |
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14 bout | |
n.侵袭,发作;一次(阵,回);拳击等比赛 | |
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15 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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16 tanker | |
n.油轮 | |
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17 sipped | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18 humiliated | |
感到羞愧的 | |
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19 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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20 bucking | |
v.(马等)猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 );抵制;猛然震荡;马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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