Crompton Divided by Robert Sheckley

menu on the wall.’
    Alistair scanned the selections. ‘Under Column A – State of Mind – I think I’d like number five, Courageous Equanimity. Unless you’d recommend sixteen, Daring Insouciance?’
    It’s running a little thin tonight,’ the fat man said. ‘If I were you I’d stick with five. Or try seventeen, Satanic Cunning, very piquant tonight with especially selected Oriental emotional ingredients. I can also recommend twenty-three, All-wise Compassion.’
    ‘I’ll stick with five,’ Crompton said. ‘Now for Column B, Contents of Mind. I think I’d like a nice number twelve, Tight-packed Logical Thought Forms Garnished with Mystic Insights and Sprinkled with a Seasoning of Understanding and Humor.’
    ‘That’s always a good one,’ the fat man said. ‘But let me suggest our special tonight, number one thirty-one, Inspirational Associations under Pale Rose Jelly Visions, and Garnished with Humor and Pathos. And we are famous for our number seventy-eight, Whole Sensuality Thoughts Served on a Bed of Butterfly Random Insights with a Topping of Humor and Gravity.’
    ‘Could you possibly let me have two from Column B? I’d make it worth your while.’
    ‘Can’t do it, buddy,’ the fat man said. ‘Too great a risk for you. It could send you into terminal oscillation, and lose me my license.’
    ‘Then I’ll take twelve from Column B, but leave out the humor.’ (These places sprinkled it over everything.)
    ‘Right,’ the fat man said. He set his instruments. ‘Get ready. Here it comes!’
    Crompton felt the familiar sense of wonder and gratitude as the current hit. He was suddenly calm, utterly serene, and filled with a joyous sense of certainty. Energy and stability flooded through him, and with them came insights of great subtlety and depth. Crompton saw the vast and complex cobwebbing that connects all parts of the universe, and he was at the center of it, in his rightful place in the Scheme of Things. Then he understood that not only was he a man, he was also all men, and an axiomatic expression of the commonality of the species. Inviolable joy welled up in him; he possessed the will of Alexander, the wisdom of Socrates, the scope of Aristotle. He knew what things were all about. …
    ‘Time’s up, buddy,’ the fat man called out as the machinery clicked off.
    Crompton tried to hold on to the splendid mood which the Moodalizer had induced, but it slid away from him and he was himself once more, and trapped in the claustrophobic confines of his situation. All he was left with was a fragile and indistinct memory. But that, though intangible, was still something.
    He returned to his hotel room feeling marginally better.
     
    Soon he grew despondent again. He lay on his bed and felt sorry for himself. It really was unfair! He had come to Aaia with the perfectly reasonable expectation of finding in Loomis a creature even more miserable than himself, a thin and inadequate personality disgusted with the futile inanities of his existence and eager, no, pathetically grateful for a chance to attain wholeness.
    Instead he had found a man well pleased with himself, a man content to continue wallowing in the brutish sensual pleasures that all authorities agree can never bring true happiness.
    Loomis did not want him! This inexplicable and astounding fact undermined the very basis of Crompton’s planning and left him without apparent recourse. For you cannot coerce a part of you into joining the rest of you. This is a law of nature as old as exfoliation.
    But he had to have Loomis.
    He considered his options. He could leave Aaia and go to Ygga, find and incorporate the other aspect of his personality, Dan Stack, then return and try again with Loomis. But the two planets lay half a galaxy apart, the logistics were too tricky and the costs too great, and it was a lousy idea anyhow. Loomis had to be dealt with immediately, not put off until another time.
    But perhaps he should give up the whole mad