Ron Goulart has worked in public relations and knows something of the terrible fates which can befall a PR man. Such as being space-stranded with the Solar System’s most desirable actress...or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

The Katy Dialogues by Ron Goulart

Originally appeared in Fantasy and Science Fiction v015 n01 1958

Katy Priestly hadn't made a flic in ten years, but they didn't know that out here on Panam. The public relations fac-robot would still stir up a lot of interest for the latest showing of Earth Is Earth, Mars Is Mars in the stereo houses. They still had TV on Panam. The PR robot would come over great on a vague medium like that. The few slight dents wouldn't show at all.

Larson in the Jupiter office, where Ben Hollis had picked the equipment up, said the gimmick had gone over big there. Ben was sure it would work here on Panam. And, of course, so was everybody at the Biz Enterprises office in the capital.

The BE ship was sailing in toward the capital port, about five thousand feet up, when it started to wobble wildly. Ben Hollis reached out for the Emergency Manual, knocking over three bound volumes of Variety, but by the time he'd come to wobble in the index the small ship was drifting in gentle zigzags down and down. And when he'd turned to page 481 the ship slammed into the ground, everything rattled and Ben blacked out. He never had been too good with mechanical things.

When he determined that he was alive and that the radio was working Ben sent in a report to the Biz Enterprises office. He was responsible for getting the Katy Priestly robot and the open-end spools to the capital in time for the big premiere. It was his first solo public relations job since he'd been transferred to Panam from Venus. This position was a lot more interesting and a lot more fun than selling LPs to the natives on Venus. Biz Enterprises had faith in him or they wouldn't have promoted him. He had to prove himself.

Ottkins answered his call. “No time for much chat, Ben. Where are you location-wise?”

“I had a little bad luck, Ott. I seem to have crashed. I think I’m in a valley out here. But the robot’s fine.”

“Just sit tight. Did you take a reading with your tri-diviner?”

“I think it’s broke.”

“Well, we’ll come and find you as soon as we get back.”

“Back?”

“Everybody here’s off for sort of a holiday.”

“But, Ott, I got the stuff for the premiere.”

“Premiere’s postponed, guy. See, the natives have sort of gone amok here on Panam. You know how hard it is to deal with folks when they’re excited. They already roasted the gang at the Coke Embassy. We’re closing up shop till tempers cool,”

“Yeah, but, Ott, I’m lost out here.”

“No worry at all, Ben. This will blow over in a few weeks and we’ll come out and find you. You’ve got your emergency kit. Just take a little vacation on us. And keep your eye on that robot. You’re a good man, Ben. Hey, they’re trying to slice up Thompson with those little knives of theirs. Got to get on that and stop it. See you. Good luck.”

The radio wouldn’t talk to him after that. But even if he was lost Ben Hollis had his assignment.

Ben looked in on the Katy Priestly robot twice a day during his first week in the valley. He lived on the rations in his emergency kit and studied his Emergency Manual. He explored the valley, which was hot and semitropical and seemed to have no obvious exits. At night he would read Mars Variety, drink a cup of emergency cocoa and turn in. Nobody came to rescue him.

The BE Manual was a really fine book. It taught Ben Hollis which growing things were edible and which were poisonous. It taught him how to set traps and what to do with the animals he caught.

Before he’d been in LP Sales Ben had worked on a monitor squad and one of the shows he’d watched regularly was a Venusian cooking class. About his third week in the valley he fixed all his meals Venusian style. An hour or two a day he’d sit by the radio, but nobody called. He’d never been able to contact the capital after the first day. But he was still on assignment. So he looked after the PR robot and waited.

From the BE Manual Supplement he learned how to build a hut. When he got that finished he moved most of his equipment in there. The crate with Katy Priestly, too, because he was still keeping an eye on that. When the premiere did come off, the robot would have to be shipshape.

You can’t take Venusian cooking all the time. Ben switched to Martian recipes the fourth week. The rainy cycle was starting on Panam and trapping was getting more complex. Ben featured more dishes with fruit and vegetables.

One wet, gray afternoon Ben built a fire in his hand-wrought stone fireplace, following advice he’d found in a letter to the editor of the BE Manual Annual The rain was falling heavy on the roof, which he’d never been able to get completely weatherproof.

Ben was worried about the Katy Priestly robot. He wasn’t an expert mechanic, but he had the idea the robot might rust or something. Following the instructions on the crate he unpacked the robot and set it in the chair he’d made out of yap bark. Katy Priestly was, when she made her films anyway, a slim girl with light blond hair and a medium tan. She had a dent on her forehead, but that didn’t detract any. Larson had told Ben that at the height of Katy’s career there had been twenty-five of these robots in circulation doing public relations and publicity work for her pictures.

After reading the directions carefully through twice Ben found the slot in the back of the robot’s neck, under the hair where it didn’t show, and inserted the first of the open end tapes. He decided to give the robot a test run to see if it was still in tiptop condition.

Going through the excelsior in the bottom of the crate Ben found the booklet with the interviewer’s questions in it. Beside each question was the time the interviewer had to ask it and beside the answers the time of each response.

Ben had taken the BE night school course in Showmanship and he figured he could run through the questions well enough for a test. He looked them over and clicked on Katy Priestly.

“Well, how do you like it here on Panam, Miss Priestly?” Ben asked the warming-up robot, without even a hesitation at the spot where you had to fill in the planet name.

“Why, I think it’s wonderful being here. I’ve always wanted to visit,” answered the robot. Her voice was low, but with a young girl quality in it.

“Your latest picture is called Earth Is Earth, Mars Is Mars. What sort of a picture is it?”

“It’s all about love. The funny things it does to you. The way a sensitive young girl feels, you know,” she said. There was no sign of rust.

“This is your fifth picture. Right, Miss Priestly?”

“That’s right. And I’ve enjoyed them all.”

Ben ran through the questions and the robot responded convincingly each time. It was a believable tape, with a relaxed message that came across well. After getting Katy Priestly's advice to young actors Ben said, “Thank you for dropping by, Miss Priestly,” and clicked off the robot.

BE would be glad to know the situation. Ben slipped on his rain-slicker and ran across the high yellow grass to the ship. There was still no reply at BE headquarters. He sat listening to the rain on the ship's hull for several minutes and then ran back to his hut and the fire.

If he hadn’t been on assignment Ben Hollis would have worried more than he did. He knew BE would come for him as soon as they could. Meanwhile he had the Katy robot to take care of.

As the rainy season progressed Ben spent more time in the hut. By rereading the BE Manual he’d been able to fix the roof so that there was only one minor leak in the far corner.

For the sake of efficiency, to routine his assignment, Ben established the procedure of checking out Katy each morning. He would run through both open-end tapes, watching carefully for any signs of mechanical breakdown. It wasn’t surprising, considering his grades in Showmanship, that he memorized the questions quickly and didn’t have to consult the script.

Mornings were always enjoyable because of his work. Some of the long afternoons, with rain falling heavy all around, unsettled him. Not much, but a little.

Once each afternoon Ben would get into his rain gear and make a dash for the ship. He would warm up the radio and try to contact the capital. The most he ever got was a dry squawking sound.

He learned from the Orientation Section of the BE Manual that the rain would be letting up soon. In the last of the dark, rainy afternoons he set up the practice of giving Katy a second check. He ran through the tapes and noted his reactions to them, noted how the machine seemed to be operating. This meant more paper work, but Ben felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

Ben was stretched out in the dry yellow grass, his eyes half closed, when the idea occurred to him. With the rains passed it was pleasant in the valley. And he had his job to keep him occupied during the day. Still he missed, not all the time but now and then, people and conversation. He checked Katy three times a day now, but the questions had become automatic to him and it hardly seemed like real conversation anymore.

However, though Katy’s responses were set, it occurred to him that there was no reason why he couldn’t vary his questions. Not during office hours. Probably in the evening. Evenings were warm now and he kept the hut door open.

After dinner, back in Venusian style this week, Ben slipped a tape into Katy’s neck and clicked her on. Timing was going to be the problem. . . .

“Well, we’ve been in this valley two months huh, Katy? Getting bored?” he asked, feeling a little silly.

“I think it’s wonderful being here. I’ve always wanted to visit,” she said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

“Still you’ve looked worried lately. What’s bothering you?”

“It’s all about love. The funny things it does to you. The way a sensitive young girl feels, you know.”

“You love me? Kate, all these months you have?”

“That’s right. And I’ve enjoyed them all.”

Ben laughed here and got behind. He had to rush the next questions.

He decided to end on a serious note. “You do think things will work out here, don’t you, Katy?”

“Yes. You’ve got to stick with it. Hard work is the key to success. And sticking to it. You’ve got to have patience. That’s my advice,” Katy said with conviction.

“Well, thank you, Katy.”

“Thank you.”

Twice during the night Ben woke up and found himself laughing.

During the pollen-drift season Ben discovered he had an allergy. He stayed in more, going out only for food and his visit to the ship radio.

He worked only half a day now and spent the afternoons reading up on sneezing and coughing in the Manual. Sometimes he would read sections of Mars Variety aloud to Katy. Sometimes he would just have a chat with her. Using both tapes and flicking the switch off and on Ben could talk up to an hour without any repetition from Katy. Tape 2 was mostly details about Katy’s early life and ambitions. That got Ben to talking about his own childhood.

“I grew up on Mars,” Ben said one afternoon.

“With my uncle and aunt. How about you, Katy?”

“I was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, U.S.A. On Earth, you know,” Katy said.

“My dad was from Madison, Wisconsin. He was an art director for Earth & Associates, PR Division. He died when I was six. Maybe we could visit Earth sometime.”

“Earth. Yes. You’re always loyal to your home planet. Of course, I love your planet, too.”

“And you like me. I’m glad.”

“You should be.”

Toward evening Ben started pacing the stone floor he’d made for the hut. He began talking to Katy. Finally he asked her, ‘"Katy, do you really think they'll come for us? Maybe we should try to get out of here and go look for them. Or do you think we should stay?”

“Yes. You’ve got to stick with it. Hard work is the key to success. And sticking to it. You’ve got to have patience. That’s my advice,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

Ben sat down on the floor and watched the empty fireplace. “Good old Katy,” he said.

Ben came back from the ship and got out of his jacket across the room from Katy. “Another dust storm,” he said. “Dust-storm season is starting.” He shook the coat out carefully and came and stood in front of Katy. “I still can’t make contact with BE. I don’t know.”

“Why, I think it’s wonderful being here. I’ve always wanted to visit.”

“Doesn’t it get you? Why are you cheerful, Katy?”

“It’s all about love,” she said, her voice soft. “The funny things it does to you. The way a sensitive young girl feels, you know.”

“Well, maybe it’s love. Christ, though it seems like we’ve been here for years.”

“That’s right. And I’ve enjoyed them all.”

Ben changed the subject. He might as well just talk small talk with Katy. But finally he had to say, “But my God, Katy, why have they just left us here for months? I like BE. Don’t they like me? Look, let’s leave here. Try to go to them. Maybe they’ve forgotten. They have lots of things on their minds.” He looked into her face. “Katy? You don’t still think we should wait. Huh?”

“Yes. You’ve got to stick with it. Hard work is the key to success. And sticking to it. You’ve got to have patience.”

“You really believe that?”

“That’s my advice.”

“I suppose. I suppose BE will come. Sure, Katy, you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

The rain hit soft on the roof, drops falling slow. Ben tossed a dry log into his fireplace and turned to Katy. “I had good ratings on all my tests. A little low in mechanical skills. But good in sales logic. And people relations. I mean, BE wouldn’t just abandon me without looking.”

“Love makes the universe go round,” Katy said, smiling.

“You’re being smart now. I suppose it’s your privilege. You’re a famous actress and all.”

“Just a simple Earth girl,” Katy said.

“Sure. But, really, Katy, I’ve done my job all this time. By now I should even be in line for a raise. I've looked after you and kept records. I'm sure BE will take that into consideration.”

“Yes, it’s a wonderful emotional experience.”

“What is? Us being here?” He took her by the shoulder. “You still want us to stay? You think BE is going to come?”

“Yes. You’ve got to stick with it. Hard work is the key to success. And sticking to it. You’ve got to have patience.”

Holding both Katy’s shoulders Ben said, “Good God, Katy, we’ve known each other for months. We know all about each other. Can’t you understand me? You see how I feel, don’t you?”

“Thank you,” Katy smiled.

Ben stepped back from her. “You don’t really at all. All you give me is public relations crap for BE.” His foot swung out and slammed into Katy’s stomach. “Well, screw them.”

Katy clanged over onto the floor, huddling her limbs together. Ben kicked her again and kept kicking her until her head rolled off and into the corner by the fireplace, trailing tubes and wires.

“I’m knocking off work,” he said.

He went to the ship to tell BE about it. But they wouldn’t answer. He kicked in the radio, too.

The rain came down fast. Ben stood in the grass and looked up into the sky. The rain fell harder and harder on his face. That was good. He was crying, but it would never show.

Anybody who followed the BE Manual knew you should wear your rain-slicker when out in the rain. “Screw them,” Ben said. He’d come out without his coat.

Ben sat in the sun on the porch of his hut with his mouth tightly closed. One of these days he’d gather Katy up. Not that it would do any good. He’d never be able to fix her. He had a low mechanical-skills rating.

He was really sorry about Katy. To punish himself he refused to talk to anybody.

Now that the sun had come back that was hard. All the animals had come back, too. They had started talking to him and not knowing his reasons for keeping quiet they might be offended. It was bad public relations, but it couldn’t be helped.

Same went for the trees and the rocks. He wasn’t talking, he was punishing himself.

And that went for the flowers, too. Not a word. Although sometimes their funny squeaky voices made him laugh out loud.

END