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THE INFINITY BOX Kate Wilhelm It was a bad day from beginning to end. Late in the afternoon, just when I was ready to light the fuse to blow up the lab, with Lenny in it, Janet called from the hospital. "Honey, it's the little Bronson boy. We can't do anything with him, and he has his mother and father in a panic. He's sure that we're trying to electrocute him, and they half believe it. They're demanding that we take the cast off and remove the suit." Lenny sat watching my face. He began to move things out of reach: the glass of pencils, coffee mugs, ashtray... "Can't Groppi do anything?" He was the staff psychologist. "Not this time. He doesn't really understand the suit either. I think he's afraid of it. Can you come over here and talk to them?" "Sure. Sure. We just blew up about five thousand dollars' worth of equipment with a faulty transformer. Lenny's quitting again. Some son of a bitch mislaid our order for wafer resisters... I'll be over in half an hour." "What?" Lenny asked. He looked like a dope, thick build, the biggest pair of hands you'd ever see outside a football field, shoulders that didn't need padding to look padded. Probably he was one of the best electronics men in the world. He was forty-six, and had brought up three sons alone. He never mentioned their mother and I didn't know if she was dead, or just gone. He was my partner in the firm of Laslow and Leonard Electronics. "The Bronson kid's scared to death of the suit we put on him yesterday. First time they turned it on, he panicked. I'll run over and see. Where's that sleeve?" I rummaged futilely and Lenny moved stolidly toward a cabinet and pulled out the muslin sleeve and small control box. Once in a while he'd smile,
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