ROAD STOP by David Mason It was like any other car on the road. It was automatic, self-contained--and eternal! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The highway stretched away in ruler-straight perspective toward both horizons, black and shining in the sun like a river of ink. Beside it, the bright pastel buildings of Rest Stop 25 stood among the green trees. Occasionally a car shot past, a flash of metal and a hiss of split wind; but the road was one which was used more often at night, and was nearly empty in the afternoon. Sam was the only attendant on duty. Stop 25 needed only two human attendants, even at its busiest hours. He sat, staring out at the highway, his elbows on the lunch counter, his round face blank, but his mouth set tightly. The phone at his elbow emitted a small grunting noise. "You still there?" the phone voice said inquiringly. "Yeah." Sam said, still staring at the highway. "Well...." The voice paused. "Look, it might not come your way. It usually turns west at the New Britain intersection." "Not always." Sam said. "It went by here once before." "It almost never stops, anyway," the voice said firmly. "It won't stop." "Some times it does," Sam said. "It doesn't have to." Sam shrugged and said nothing. "Okay, then," the voice said. "I called you about it, anyway." "Thanks." Sam turned away, still watching the road. Far off a speck of metal gleamed, growing larger. The distant high sound of brakes began, as a car decelerated, coming toward the Stop. It was just an ordinary car, Sam told himself. That other car was still hundreds of miles away. But his hands were damp as he watched it grow larger. It was an ordinary Talman sedan, with two people in it. It swung into the Stop's parking area, and its doors slid open smoothly. A small red light flashed on its arched front. The repair signal. In response the doors of the Repair shop opened. The Talman waited, as a man and a woman emerged from its padded interior and moved slowly into the Repair shop. The doors closed behind it. The couple came toward the restaurant, where Sam stood waiting. "Hi," the man said to Sam. "Afternoon." Sam moved to the counter. "Something to eat while you're waiting, folks?" The tall, dark girl glanced out at the closed doors of the Repair shop. "How long's that car going to take?" she asked in a tired voice. "I wanted to get home tonight." "Not long," Sam said. "It didn't look like anything complicated." "How can you tell?" the man asked, sitting down. "It could take all night." "Like something to eat while you're waiting?" Sam asked. The woman stared at the lunch racks critically.