The Master hefted an object to the table top. It was a hemisphere about 18 inches in diameter, smooth and featureless except for a handle on the curved top. It was painted psychological green.
"This is the new Serve-All," Marlboro said glibly. "Notice its smooth unobtrusive shape. No working parts exposed, but inside is a mass of circuits and servos around a baby reactor ready to do everything for you."
"The bacon," Perry persisted. "How?"
He was aware that the first step in successful selling is to arouse curiosity. But he was confident he could refuse to buy, though it be contrary to convention and good taste.
"Fingers of energy," the MS said. "Invisible, sensitive fingers of energy reach out of here—" He tapped the Serve-All dome. "—and they'll do anything that needs doing, at your mental command. Right now this one's tuned to me, but a minor adjustment will fit it to your personal needs. Here, let me show you something else."
Perry felt a gentle, firm pressure on his left cheekbone. It moved down his cheeks, across his upper lip and up the other side. Then under his chin.
Marlboro whipped out a pocket mirror.
Perry had just been shaved.
"See?" the Master beamed. "Wonderful isn't it?" Perry nodded. That was calculated to put him in a yes mood.
While they talked the Serve-All cleared the breakfast clutter and cleaned the cooking shield without visible remains or waste. Marlboro pulled a contract pad out of his pocket.