BEN TILMAN sat down in the easiest of all easy chairs. He picked up a magazine, flipped pages; stood up, snapped fingers; walked to the view wall, walked back; sat down, picked up the magazine. He was waiting, near the end of the day, after hours, in the lush, plush waiting room—“The customer’s. This story was published in If: Worlds of Science Fiction, July 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the . copyright on this publication was renewed.