Identity
By GEORGE O. SMITH
Illustrated by Williams
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Astounding Science-Fiction, November 1945.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Cal Blair paused at the threshold of the Solarian Medical Association
and held the door while four people came out. He entered, and gave his
name to the girl at the reception desk, and then though he had the run
of the place on a visitor basis, Cal waited until the girl nodded that
he should go on into the laboratories.
His nose wrinkled with the smell of neoform, and shuddered at the
white plastic walls. He came to the proper door and entered without
knocking. He stood in the center of the room as far from the shelves of
dangerous-looking bottles on one wall as he could get--without getting
too close to the preserved specimens of human viscera on the other wall.
The cabinet with its glint of chrome-iridium surgical tools seemed to
be like a monster, loaded to the vanishing point with glittering teeth.
In here, the odor of neoform was slightly tainted with a gentle aroma
of perfume.
Cal looked around at the empty room and then opened the tiny door at
one side. He had to pass between a portable radiology machine and a
case of anatomical charts, both of which made his hackles tingle. Then
he was inside of the room, and the sight of Tinker Elliott's small,
desirable head bent over the binocular microscope made him forget his
fears. He stepped forward and kissed her on the ear.
She gasped, startled, and squinted at him through half-closed eyelids.
"Nice going," she said sharply.
"Thought you liked it," he said.
"I do. Want to try it over again?"
"Sure."
"Then don't bother going out and coming in again. Just stay here."
Cal listened to the words, but not the tone.
"Don't mind if I do. Shall we neck in earnest?"
"I'd as soon that as having you pop in and out, getting my nerves all
upended by kissing me on the ear."
"I like kissing you on the ear."
Tinker Elliott came forward and shoved him onto a tall laboratory
chair. "Good. But you'll do it at my convenience, next time."
"I'd rather surprise you."
"So I gathered. Why did you change your suit?"
"Change my suit?"
"Certainly."
"I haven't changed my suit."
"Well! I suppose that's the one you were wearing before."
"Look, Tinker, I don't usually wear a suit for three months. I think it
was about time I changed. In fact, this one is about done for."
"The one you had on before looked all right to me."
"So? How long do you expect a suit to last, anyway?"
"Certainly as long as an hour."
"Hour?"
"Yes ... say, what is this?"
Cal Blair shook his head. "Are you all right?"
"Of course. Are you?"
"I think so. What were you getting at, Tinker? Let's start all over
again."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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