"Wait!" he said. "Wait—please—don't think off! Tell me, what year is it? Where you are, I mean."
"What year? It's 1955, of course."
"Why," he said, "this is remarkable!"
"It is?"
"Do you know what I think has happened? A quantum inversion."
"Beg pardon?" I said.
"Karpo Sixteen predicted the possibility just the other day! Listen, my friend, let me ask you just a few questions—"
Then the mechanical voice of the operator cut in. It wasn't a real operator, of course, just a recorded voice, part of the new automatic system. These voices gave all the standard phrases and usually at the wrong time, the way the system was working. The worst of it was you couldn't argue with them or curse them—at least you always felt a little foolish afterward if you did.
The operator's voice said, "I'm sorry. Your time is up!"
"Now, wait!" said my communicant, his voice fading a little, "Don't cut us off! Don't think off yet!"