"Where's Clacker?" he asked.
"Mr. Clacker is no longer with us, Mr. Radek."
"Huh? What happened to him?"
"Mr. Clacker has been taken to the three Final Machines for trial and judgment. I am now taking over here. My name is Hortense. G. Welker Hortense."
Tony looked at the blonde. Crude, undisguised lights were coming from the woman's eyes. Promotion-happy.
He said at last: "Sorry as hell about that. The solenoid thing, I suppose. I didn't mean to get the guy in trouble. I sure didn't mean that."
"He'd been ordered to change it. It was no one's fault but his own. You were only doing your duty, I'm sure. And duty comes above everything."
"Yeah. Yeah, sure. I know." He sighed once more. "Get me an airbrush and a bottle of white paint."
"What?"
"I want an airbrush and a bottle of white paint. I want to paint my nice little ritual roses. I don't like red any more. I want all white ones."