2301–V–7 Nov. 1970–NYC—“Pop’s Place”:
I came out of the storeroom carrying a fifth of Drambuie to
account for the minute I had been gone. My assistant was arguing with the customer who had been playing
“I’m My Own Grand–paw!” I said, “Oh, let him play it, then unplug it.” I was very tired.
It’s rough, but somebody must do it, and it’s very hard to recruit anyone in the later years, since the Mistake
of 1972. Can you think of a better source than to pick people all fouled up where they are and give them
well–paid, interesting (even though dangerous) work in a necessary cause? Everybody knows now why the
Fizzle War of 1963 fizzled. The bomb with New York’s number on it didn’t go off, a hundred other things didn’t go as planned—all arranged by the likes of me.
But not the Mistake of ’72; that one is not our fault—and can’t be undone; there’s no paradox to resolve. A
thing either is, or it isn’t, now and forever amen. But there won’t be another like it; an order dated ‘1992’
takes precedence any year.
I closed five minutes early, leaving a letter in the cash register telling my day manager that I was accepting his
offer to buy me out, to see my lawyer as I was leaving on a long vacation. The Bureau might or might not pick
up his payments, but they want things left tidy. I went to the room in the back of the storeroom and forward to
1993.
YOU ARE READING
All You Zombies by Robert A. Heinlein
Short StoryI do not own this story, I just wanted the people to read this story 'cause it's reaaaallllllyyy great. Credits to the author of the story- Robert A. Heinlein. P.S: I won't give description 'cause I'm actually gonna spoil the whole story if I give...
