"Fork in the road coming up," the Doll said.
"Huh?"
"Fork—look. It'll be voluntary, won't it? You don't have to do it? They won't think the worse of you if you refuse?"
"Huh?" I gawked at her.
"I'm scared, Baby."
Her eyes weren't blue anymore. They'd been blue before but not now. Now they were violet balls that were laying me like somebody taking a last long look at the thing down inside the nice white satin before they close the cover on it for the final time.
"Have a drink, Doll," I said. I got up, went to the liquor wagon. "Seltzer? There isn't any mixer left."
"Asked you something, Baby."
I took her glass over. I handed it to her. My own drink I poured down that same hole in my head. I said finally, "Nice smooth bourbon but I like scotch better."
"They've already crashed four of this new type on tests, haven't they?"