Businessmen -- Fiction; Science fiction; Self-confidence -- Fiction; Short stories
Bolen smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Very simple really. It wasn't the
fault of the Confidet so much, Mr. Cutter, as you. You see, you are a
rare exception. What you are, or possibly I should say, what you were,
was a complete super ego. There are very few of those, Mr. Cutter, in
this world, but you happened to be one of them. A really absolute,
complete super ego, and the Confidet's effect was simply the reverse of
what it would have been with anyone else." Bolen shook his head,
sympathetically, but he didn't stop smiling, and his eyes didn't stop
their infuriating exploration of Cutter's face and eyes and hands. "It's
really a shame, because I was almost certain you were a super ego, Mr.
Cutter. And when you didn't return that last Confidet, I somehow felt
that you might use it, after all that nasty business at the company and
all.
"But while I was fairly certain of the effects, Mr. Cutter, I wasn't
absolutely _sure_, you see, and so like the rest of the experiments, I
had to forget my conscience. I'm really very sorry."
The anger was a wild thing inside Cutter now, and it made his hands
tremble and sweat, and his mouth quiver, and he hated the man in front
of him, the man who was responsible for what had happened to him, the
smiling man with the soft voice and exploring eyes. But he didn't say
anything, not a word. He didn't show his anger or his frustration or his
resentment. He didn't indicate to Bolen a particle of his inner
wildness.
He didn't have the nerve.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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