Free The Stardroppers by John Brunner

inquired.
    “Ah … I probably would,” Dan conceded.
    “In that case you ought to have shopped around. Bintons are very powerful—at least I’ve heard so; I never actually tried one. Ideally, you should be so much in love with the ’dropper you’re currently using you’d rather part with your right arm. I’d let five of our six go with a smile, but the other one—
oh
, no!” He grinned engagingly. “Though ask me again in six months, and it may well be a different one I like. Let me bring in my own collection, and I’ll show you some of the differences between them.”
    Fortunately, Dan wasn’t asked outright which were his own favorites among the assorted instruments the Carltons made him experiment with. Large and heavy or small and light, plastic or wood, metal or cloth, they seemed very much alike to him, although Nick kept making such comments as “This has a magnificent repertoire!” or “I can’t think what Barbie sees in this one, but she’d slaughter me if I let anything happen to it!”
    Becoming much involved herself now in this display of their treasures, Barbie pulled a face at him and launched into an attempted explanation of her preference. Having found that all the noises he was invited to listen to were as enigmatic—and occasionally as unpleasant—as those he could find in his own stardropper, Dan hardly made an effort to follow her; instead, he took the chance of asking some questions that had been troubling him.
    “Ah … does anything that you know of help in figuring out the signals?” he ventured.
    “What do you mean?” countered Nick.
    “Well—is there anything one can take, for example?”
    “You mean drugs?” The young man tensed. “Don’t let anyone kid you into trying that sort of shortcut! Most of the bad cases you see around, the nutters babbling to themselves, thought they could save trouble by like getting stoned on acid before ’dropping. We had one like that ourselves, and the poor bastard wound up falling off the roof and breaking his pelvis! Since then we’ve made it an inflexible rule not to let drugs in the place. Oh, I don’t mean we’re puritanical about it, but—well, we allow beer and wine, but no spirits; the occasional joint of regular pot, but no high-concentration hash. You get me? And that’s only to unwind with, because you can get terribly tense if you’re straining after a difficult set of signals. Personally, I find the best time to use a ’dropper is about an hour or two after breakfast, when I’m well rested but back in tune with waking life. On the other hand some people like it best at two in the morning, when everything around is very quiet. It’s a matter of temperament, I imagine.”
    “Thanks for the warning,” Dan murmured. There was a pause.
    “By the way,” Nick said with a trace of diffidence, “while it’s on the premises, would you mind very much if I tried out your Binton too?”
    “Sure,” Dan shrugged. “Provided Lilith’s through with it.”
    “Oh, by now she must be,” Nick assured him. “We’ve been chatting”—he checked his watch—“Christ, nearly two hours! I’ll pop up and see how she’s doing. She may very well have fallen asleep, you know. Lots of people do, after a bout of intensive ’dropping. Barbie doll, fix some more coffee while I’m gone, hm?”
    He left the kitchen door open behind him, and his feet could be heard on the stairs as he ran up to Lilith’s room. Accepting the offer of the coffee, Dan idly inspected the stardroppers ranked on the table before him, noting the individual design variations but unable to associate them with the different signals he’d had demonstrated.
    His line of thought was suddenly cut short by a cry from Nick, shouting down from the upstairs landing.
    “Dan! Barbie! Lilith’s gone out!”
    Barbie almost dropped her kettle as she made to replaceit on the stove, and rushed to the door. “Are you sure?” she called back. Following her, Dan caught