The Standardized Man, Page 3

wondered what the police would think of finding a bodynear a smashed car with no name tag. They'd probably decide it was thesame person that had caused the disturbance at the night club earlierin the evening.

  Charles realized that the lettering on the car had indicated it was apublic, coin-operated vehicle, so the authorities would have no meansof identifying the body.

  After awhile it occurred to him that if he should go into hidingsomeplace, the body might easily be identified as his own, and hewouldn't have to worry about what Edwin and the other bosses would doto him. It probably wouldn't be noticed that the torn andblood-spattered clothes on the corpse were not thermostatic. But heshook his head resolutely. Even if he were crazy enough to try it, thebody would be reported missing by somebody or other, so that wouldnever do.

  Eventually, Charles reached a main thoroughfare in the city and haileda cab. He climbed in the back, told the driver briefly to take himhome, and then slumped down in the seat and brooded.

  He stared out the window, watching the buildings go by, and theemotional reaction of the evening began to set in. Morbidly, Charleswondered what they'd do to him if he kept his mouth shut and let theIndustry put the suit into production, and waited for the millions ofID tags to begin to drop off.

  The prospect was so frightening that his apprehension over what wouldhappen if it was discovered he was wearing somebody else's tag almostdisappeared.

  Finally, the cab rolled to a stop. Charles got out and dropped somecoins into the hand protruding from the front seat, and, head low, heturned and entered the apartment house.

  He trudged dismally up the stairs, thinking about his wife. Hewondered what would happen if she were awake and waiting for him. Ifshe saw that he had on somebody else's name tag.

  The door was unlocked.

  And the light was on.

  He wondered if he could duck into the bedroom without being seen, andthen someone leaped at him and he knew it was too late.

  "Oh, James dear!" she cried, throwing her arms around Charles' neck."When you walked out of here, I thought you'd never come back to me!"

  Charles looked at the marilyn's name tag with slow horror and realizedthat in his preoccupation, out of sheer force of habit, he had simplysaid to the cab driver, "Take me home," and the driver had looked atthe address on his tag and complied. The apartment building so muchresembled Charles' own that he hadn't known the difference, and hehadn't bothered to look at the number on the door.

  When Charles walked in, this Marilyn, Stasia her name was, had lookedat his name tag and thought he was her James. She didn't have theslightest idea of who he really was.

  Then Charles closed his eyes, swallowed, and knew something else.

  It really didn't make the least bit of difference _who_ he was. And ofcourse, the solution to all his troubles was obvious.

  With a sigh, Charles leaned over Stasia and kissed her.

  END