ami1649 | The wildest scene in "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" @ami1649 | Uploaded October 2019 | Updated October 2024, 10 hours ago.
"...please listen carefully. These questions will deal with social situations which you might find yourself in; what I want from you is a statement of response, what you'd do. And I want the response as quickly as you can give it. One of the factors I'll record is the time lag, if any." He selected his initial question. "You're sitting watching TV and suddenly you discover a wasp crawling on your wrist." He checked with his watch, counting the seconds. And checked, too, with the twin dials.
"What's a wasp?" Luba Luft asked.
"A stinging bug that flies."
"Oh, how strange." Her immense eyes widened with child-like acceptance, as if he had revealed the cardinal mystery of creation. "Do they still exist? I've never seen one."
"They died out because of the dust. Don't you really know what a wasp is? You must have been alive when there were wasps; that's only been — "
"Tell me the German word."
He tried to think of the German word for wasp but couldn't. "Your English is perfect," he said angrily.
"My accent," she corrected, "is perfect. It has to be, for roles, for Purcell and Walton and Vaughn Williams. But my vocabulary isn't very large." She glanced at him shyly.
"Wespe," he said, remembering the German word.
"Ach yes; eine Wespe." She laughed. "And what was the question? I forget already."
When he stood up he found himself looking into a laser tube.
"Your questions," Luba Luft said in a crisp, formal voice, "began to do with sex. I thought they would finally. You're not from the police department; you're a sexual deviant."
"You can look at my identification." He reached toward his coat pocket. His hand, he saw, had again begun to shake, as it had with Polokov.
"If you reach in there," Luba Luft said, "I'll kill you."
The pattern of your questioning is obvious. I'm going to call the police." Still holding the laser tube in his direction she crossed the room, picked tip the vidphone, dialed the operator. "Connect me with the San Francisco Police Department," she said. "I need a policeman."
"What you're doing," Rick said, with relief, "is the best idea possible." Yet it seemed strange to him that Luba had decided to do this; why didn't she simply kill him? Once the patrolman arrived her chance would disappear and it all would go his way.
She must think she's human, he decided. Obviously she doesn't know.
"...please listen carefully. These questions will deal with social situations which you might find yourself in; what I want from you is a statement of response, what you'd do. And I want the response as quickly as you can give it. One of the factors I'll record is the time lag, if any." He selected his initial question. "You're sitting watching TV and suddenly you discover a wasp crawling on your wrist." He checked with his watch, counting the seconds. And checked, too, with the twin dials.
"What's a wasp?" Luba Luft asked.
"A stinging bug that flies."
"Oh, how strange." Her immense eyes widened with child-like acceptance, as if he had revealed the cardinal mystery of creation. "Do they still exist? I've never seen one."
"They died out because of the dust. Don't you really know what a wasp is? You must have been alive when there were wasps; that's only been — "
"Tell me the German word."
He tried to think of the German word for wasp but couldn't. "Your English is perfect," he said angrily.
"My accent," she corrected, "is perfect. It has to be, for roles, for Purcell and Walton and Vaughn Williams. But my vocabulary isn't very large." She glanced at him shyly.
"Wespe," he said, remembering the German word.
"Ach yes; eine Wespe." She laughed. "And what was the question? I forget already."
When he stood up he found himself looking into a laser tube.
"Your questions," Luba Luft said in a crisp, formal voice, "began to do with sex. I thought they would finally. You're not from the police department; you're a sexual deviant."
"You can look at my identification." He reached toward his coat pocket. His hand, he saw, had again begun to shake, as it had with Polokov.
"If you reach in there," Luba Luft said, "I'll kill you."
The pattern of your questioning is obvious. I'm going to call the police." Still holding the laser tube in his direction she crossed the room, picked tip the vidphone, dialed the operator. "Connect me with the San Francisco Police Department," she said. "I need a policeman."
"What you're doing," Rick said, with relief, "is the best idea possible." Yet it seemed strange to him that Luba had decided to do this; why didn't she simply kill him? Once the patrolman arrived her chance would disappear and it all would go his way.
She must think she's human, he decided. Obviously she doesn't know.
