[Illustration: Illustrated by EMSH] Cost of Living _If easy payment plans were to be really efficient, patrons' lifetimes had to be extended!_ By ROBERT SHECKLEY Carrin decided that he could trace his present mood to Miller's suicidelast week. But the knowledge didn't help him get rid of the vague, formless fear in the back of his mind. It was foolish. Miller's suicidedidn't concern him. But why had that fat, jovial man killed himself? Miller had hadeverything to live for--wife, kids, good job, and all the marvelousluxuries of the age. Why had he done it? "Good morning, dear, " Carrin's wife said as he sat down at the breakfasttable. "Morning, honey. Morning, Billy. " His son grunted something. You just couldn't tell about people, Carrin decided, and dialed hisbreakfast. The meal was gracefully prepared and served by the newAvignon Electric Auto-cook. His mood persisted, annoyingly enough since Carrin wanted to be in topform this morning. It was his day off, and the Avignon Electric financeman was coming. This was an important day. He walked to the door with his son. "Have a good day, Billy. " His son nodded, shifted his books and started to school withoutanswering. Carrin wondered if something was bothering him, too. He hopednot. One worrier in the family was plenty. "See you later, honey. " He kissed his wife as she left to go shopping. At any rate, he thought, watching her go down the walk, at least she'shappy. He wondered how much she'd spend at the A. E. Store. Checking his watch, he found that he had half an hour before the A. E. Finance man was due. The best way to get rid of a bad mood was to drownit, he told himself, and headed for the shower. * * * * * The shower room was a glittering plastic wonder, and the sheer luxury ofit eased Carrin's mind. He threw his clothes into the A. E. AutomaticKleen-presser, and adjusted the shower spray to a notch above "brisk. "The five-degrees-above-skin-temperature water beat against his thinwhite body. Delightful! And then a relaxing rub-dry in the A. E. Auto-towel. Wonderful, he thought, as the towel stretched and kneaded his stringymuscles. And it should be wonderful, he reminded himself. The A. E. Auto-towel with shaving attachments had cost three hundred and thirteendollars, plus tax. But worth every penny of it, he decided, as the A. E. Shaver came out ofa corner and whisked off his rudimentary stubble. After all, what goodwas life if you couldn't enjoy the luxuries? His skin tingled when he switched off the Auto-towel. He should havebeen feeling wonderful, but he wasn't. Miller's suicide kept nagging athis mind, destroying the peace of his day off. Was there anything else bothering him? Certainly there was nothing wrongwith the house. His papers were in order for the finance man. "Have I forgotten something?" he asked out loud. "The Avignon Electric finance man will be here in fifteen minutes, " hisA. E. Bathroom Wall-reminder whispered. "I know that. Is there anything else?" The Wall-reminder reeled off its memorized data--a vast amount ofminutiae about watering the lawn, having the Jet-lash checked, buyinglamb chops for Monday, and the like. Things he still hadn't found timefor. "All right, that's enough. " He allowed the A. E. Auto-dresser to dresshim, skillfully draping a new selection of fabrics over his bony frame. A whiff of fashionable masculine perfume finished him and he went intothe living room, threading his way between the appliances that lined thewalls. A quick inspection of the dials on the wall assured him that the housewas in order. The breakfast dishes had been sanitized and stacked, thehouse had been cleaned, dusted, polished, his wife's garments had beenhung up, his son's model rocket ships had been put back in the closet. Stop worrying, you hypochondriac, he told himself angrily. The door announced, "Mr. Pathis from Avignon Finance is here. " Carrin started to tell the door to open, when he noticed the AutomaticBartender. Good God, why hadn't he thought of it! The Automatic Bartender was manufactured by Castile Motors. He hadbought it in a weak moment. A. E. Wouldn't think very highly of that, since they sold their own brand. * * * * * He wheeled the bartender into the kitchen, and told the door to open. "A very good day to you, sir, " Mr. Pathis said. Pathis was a tall, imposing man, dressed in a conservative tweed drape. His eyes had the crinkled corners of a man who laughs frequently. Hebeamed broadly and shook Carrin's hand, looking around the crowdedliving room. "A beautiful place you have here, sir. Beautiful! As a matter of fact, Idon't think I'll be overstepping the company's code to inform you thatyours is the nicest interior in this section. " Carrin felt a sudden glow of pride at that, thinking of the rows ofidentical houses, on this block and the next, and the one after that. "Now, then, is everything functioning properly?" Mr. Pathis asked, setting his briefcase on a chair. "Everything in order?" "Oh, yes, " Carrin said enthusiastically. "Avignon Electric never goesout of whack. " "The phone all right? Changes records for the full seventeen hours?" "It certainly does, " Carrin said. He hadn't had a chance to try out thephone, but it was a beautiful piece of furniture. "The Solido-projector all right? Enjoying the programs?" "Absolutely perfect reception. " He had watched a program just lastmonth, and it had been startlingly lifelike. "How about the kitchen? Auto-cook in order? Recipe-master still knocking'em out?" "Marvelous stuff. Simply marvelous. " Mr. Pathis went on to inquire about his refrigerator, his vacuumcleaner, his car, his helicopter, his subterranean swimming pool, andthe hundreds of other items Carrin had bought from Avignon Electric. "Everything is swell, " Carrin said, a trifle untruthfully since hehadn't unpacked every item yet. "Just wonderful. " "I'm so glad, " Mr. Pathis said, leaning back with a sigh of relief. "Youhave no idea how hard we try to satisfy our customers. If a productisn't right, back it comes, no questions asked. We believe in pleasingour customers. " "I certainly appreciate it, Mr. Pathis. " * * * * * Carrin hoped the A. E. Man wouldn't ask to see the kitchen. Hevisualized the Castile Motors Bartender in there, like a porcupine in adog show. "I'm proud to say that most of the people in this neighborhood buy fromus, " Mr. Pathis was saying. "We're a solid firm. " "Was Mr. Miller a customer of yours?" Carrin asked. "That fellow who killed himself?" Pathis frowned briefly. "He was, as amatter of fact. That amazed me, sir, absolutely amazed me. Why, justlast month the fellow bought a brand-new Jet-lash from me, capable ofdoing three hundred and fifty miles an hour on a straightaway. He was ashappy as a kid over it, and then to go and do a thing like that! Ofcourse, the Jet-lash brought up his debt a little. " "Of course. " "But what did that matter? He had every luxury in the world. And then hewent and hung himself. " "Hung himself?" "Yes, " Pathis said, the frown coming back. "Every modern convenience inhis house, and he hung himself with a piece of rope. Probably unbalancedfor a long time. " The frown slid off his face, and the customary smile replaced it. "Butenough of that! Let's talk about you. " The smile widened as Pathis opened his briefcase. "Now, then, youraccount. You owe us two hundred and three thousand dollars andtwenty-nine cents, Mr. Carrin, as of your last purchase. Right?" "Right, " Carrin said, remembering the amount from his own papers. "Here's my installment. " He handed Pathis an envelope, which the man checked and put in hispocket. "Fine. Now you know, Mr. Carrin, that you won't live long enough to payus the full two hundred thousand, don't you?" "No, I don't suppose I will, " Carrin said soberly. He was only thirty-nine, with a full hundred years of life before him, thanks to the marvels of medical science. But at a salary of threethousand a year, he still couldn't pay it all off and have enough tosupport a family on at the same time. "Of course, we would not want to deprive you of necessities, which inany case is fully protected by the laws we helped formulate and pass. Tosay nothing of the terrific items that are coming out next year. Thingsyou wouldn't want to miss, sir!" Mr. Carrin nodded. Certainly he wanted new items. "Well, suppose we make the customary arrangement. If you will just signover your son's earnings for the first thirty years of his adult life, we can easily arrange credit for you. " * * * * * Mr. Pathis whipped the papers out of his briefcase and spread them infront of Carrin. "If you'll just sign here, sir. " "Well, " Carrin said, "I'm not sure. I'd like to give the boy a start inlife, not saddle him with--" "But my dear sir, " Pathis interposed, "this is for your son as well. Helives here, doesn't he? He has a right to enjoy the luxuries, themarvels of science. " "Sure, " Carrin said. "Only--" "Why, sir, today the average man is living like a king. A hundred yearsago the richest man in the world couldn't buy what any ordinary citizenpossesses at present. You mustn't look upon it as a debt. It's aninvestment. " "That's true, " Carrin said dubiously. He thought about his son and his rocket ship models, his star charts, his maps. Would it be right? he asked himself. "What's wrong?" Pathis asked cheerfully. "Well, I was just wondering, " Carrin said. "Signing over my son'searnings--you don't think I'm getting in a little too deep, do you?" "Too deep? My dear sir!" Pathis exploded into laughter. "Do you knowMellon down the block? Well, don't say I said it, but he's alreadymortgaged his grandchildren's salary for their full life-expectancy!And he doesn't have half the goods he's made up his mind to own! We'llwork out something for him. Service to the customer is our job and weknow it well. " Carrin wavered visibly. "And after you're gone, sir, they'll all belong to your son. " That was true, Carrin thought. His son would have all the marvelousthings that filled the house. And after all, it was only thirty yearsout of a life expectancy of a hundred and fifty. He signed with a flourish. "Excellent!" Pathis said. "And by the way, has your home got an A. E. Master-operator?" It hadn't. Pathis explained that a Master-operator was new this year, astupendous advance in scientific engineering. It was designed to takeover all the functions of housecleaning and cooking, without its ownerhaving to lift a finger. "Instead of running around all day, pushing half a dozen differentbuttons, with the Master-operator all you have to do is push _one_! Aremarkable achievement!" Since it was only five hundred and thirty-five dollars, Carrin signedfor one, having it added to his son's debt. Right's right, he thought, walking Pathis to the door. This house willbe Billy's some day. His and his wife's. They certainly will wanteverything up-to-date. Just one button, he thought. That _would_ be a time-saver! * * * * * After Pathis left, Carrin sat back in an adjustable chair and turned onthe solido. After twisting the Ezi-dial, he discovered that there wasnothing he wanted to see. He tilted back the chair and took a nap. The something on his mind was still bothering him. "Hello, darling!" He awoke to find his wife was home. She kissed him onthe ear. "Look. " She had bought an A. E. Sexitizer-negligee. He was pleasantly surprisedthat that was all she had bought. Usually, Leela returned from shoppingladen down. "It's lovely, " he said. She bent over for a kiss, then giggled--a habit he knew she had pickedup from the latest popular solido star. He wished she hadn't. "Going to dial supper, " she said, and went to the kitchen. Carrinsmiled, thinking that soon she would be able to dial the meals withoutmoving out of the living room. He settled back in his chair, and his sonwalked in. "How's it going, Son?" he asked heartily. "All right, " Billy answered listlessly. "What'sa matter, Son?" The boy stared at his feet, not answering. "Comeon, tell Dad what's the trouble. " Billy sat down on a packing case and put his chin in his hands. Helooked thoughtfully at his father. "Dad, could I be a Master Repairman if I wanted to be?" Mr. Carrin smiled at the question. Billy alternated between wanting tobe a Master Repairman and a rocket pilot. The repairmen were the elite. It was their job to fix the automatic repair machines. The repairmachines could fix just about anything, but you couldn't have a machinefix the machine that fixed the machine. That was where the MasterRepairmen came in. But it was a highly competitive field and only a very few of the bestbrains were able to get their degrees. And, although the boy was bright, he didn't seem to have an engineering bent. "It's possible, Son. Anything is possible. " "But is it possible for me?" "I don't know, " Carrin answered, as honestly as he could. "Well, I don't want to be a Master Repairman anyway, " the boy said, seeing that the answer was no. "I want to be a space pilot. " "A space pilot, Billy?" Leela asked, coming in to the room. "But therearen't any. " "Yes, there are, " Billy argued. "We were told in school that thegovernment is going to send some men to Mars. " "They've been saying that for a hundred years, " Carrin said, "and theystill haven't gotten around to doing it. " "They will this time. " "Why would you want to go to Mars?" Leela asked, winking at Carrin. "There are no pretty girls on Mars. " "I'm not interested in girls. I just want to go to Mars. " "You wouldn't like it, honey, " Leela said. "It's a nasty old place withno air. " "It's got some air. I'd like to go there, " the boy insisted sullenly. "Idon't like it here. " "What's that?" Carrin asked, sitting up straight. "Is there anything youhaven't got? Anything you want?" "No, sir. I've got everything I want. " Whenever his son called him'sir, ' Carrin knew that something was wrong. "Look, Son, when I was your age I wanted to go to Mars, too. I wanted todo romantic things. I even wanted to be a Master Repairman. " "Then why didn't you?" "Well, I grew up. I realized that there were more important things. First I had to pay off the debt my father had left me, and then I metyour mother--" Leela giggled. "--and I wanted a home of my own. It'll be the same with you. You'll payoff your debt and get married, the same as the rest of us. " * * * * * Billy was silent for a while, then he brushed his dark hair--straight, like his father's--back from his forehead and wet his lips. "How come I have debts, sir?" Carrin explained carefully. About the things a family needed forcivilized living, and the cost of those items. How they had to be paid. How it was customary for a son to take on a part of his parent's debt, when he came of age. Billy's silence annoyed him. It was almost as if the boy werereproaching him. After he had slaved for years to give the ungratefulwhelp every luxury! "Son, " he said harshly, "have you studied history in school? Good. Thenyou know how it was in the past. Wars. How would you like to get blownup in a war?" The boy didn't answer. "Or how would you like to break your back for eight hours a day, doingwork a machine should handle? Or be hungry all the time? Or cold, withthe rain beating down on you, and no place to sleep?" He paused for a response, got none and went on. "You live in the mostfortunate age mankind has ever known. You are surrounded by every wonderof art and science. The finest music, the greatest books and art, all atyour fingertips. All you have to do is push a button. " He shifted to akindlier tone. "Well, what are you thinking?" "I was just wondering how I could go to Mars, " the boy said. "With thedebt, I mean. I don't suppose I could get away from that. " "Of course not. " "Unless I stowed away on a rocket. " "But you wouldn't do that. " "No, of course not, " the boy said, but his tone lacked conviction. "You'll stay here and marry a very nice girl, " Leela told him. "Sure I will, " Billy said. "Sure. " He grinned suddenly. "I didn't meanany of that stuff about going to Mars. I really didn't. " "I'm glad of that, " Leela answered. "Just forget I mentioned it, " Billy said, smiling stiffly. He stood upand raced upstairs. "Probably gone to play with his rockets, " Leela said. "He's such alittle devil. " * * * * * The Carrins ate a quiet supper, and then it was time for Mr. Carrin togo to work. He was on night shift this month. He kissed his wifegood-by, climbed into his Jet-lash and roared to the factory. Theautomatic gates recognized him and opened. He parked and walked in. Automatic lathes, automatic presses--everything was automatic. Thefactory was huge and bright, and the machines hummed softly tothemselves, doing their job and doing it well. Carrin walked to the end of the automatic washing machine assembly line, to relieve the man there. "Everything all right?" he asked. "Sure, " the man said. "Haven't had a bad one all year. These new modelshere have built-in voices. They don't light up like the old ones. " Carrin sat down where the man had sat and waited for the first washingmachine to come through. His job was the soul of simplicity. He just satthere and the machines went by him. He pressed a button on them andfound out if they were all right. They always were. After passing him, the washing machines went to the packaging section. The first one slid by on the long slide of rollers. He pressed thestarting button on the side. "Ready for the wash, " the washing machine said. Carrin pressed the release and let it go by. That boy of his, Carrin thought. Would he grow up and face hisresponsibilities? Would he mature and take his place in society? Carrindoubted it. The boy was a born rebel. If anyone got to Mars, it would behis kid. But the thought didn't especially disturb him. "Ready for the wash. " Another machine went by. Carrin remembered something about Miller. The jovial man had always beentalking about the planets, always kidding about going off somewhere androughing it. He hadn't, though. He'd committed suicide. "Ready for the wash. " Carrin had eight hours in front of him, and he loosened his belt toprepare for it. Eight hours of pushing buttons and listening to amachine announce its readiness. "Ready for the wash. " He pressed the release. "Ready for the wash. " Carrin's mind strayed from the job, which didn't need much attention inany case. He wished he had done what he had longed to do as a youngster. It would have been great to be a rocket pilot, to push a button and goto Mars. --ROBERT SHECKLEY Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ December 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.