Pettigill was, you might say, in tune with the world. It wouldn't even have been an exaggeration to say the world was in tune with Pettigill. Then somebody struck a sour note....
ody struck a sour note....]
The little man said, "Why, Mr. Bartle, come in. This is indeed a pleasure." His pinched face was lighted with an enthusiastic smile.
"You know my name, so I suppose you know the Bulletin sent me for a personality interview," the tall man who stood in the doorway said in a monotone as if it were a statement he had made a thousand times--which he had.
"Oh, certainly, Mr. Bartle. I was informed by Section Secretary Andrews this morning. I must say, I am greatly honored by this visit, too. Oh heavens, here I am letting you stand in the doorway. Excuse my discourtesy, sir--come in, come in," the little man said, and bustled the bored Bartle into a great room.
The walls of the room were lined by gray metal boxes that had spools of reproduction tape mounted on their vertical fronts--tape recorders, hundreds of them.
"I have a rather lonely occupation, Mr. Bartle, and sometimes the common courtesies s
A story really only marred by the technology of the time--tape recorders. In a society broken into castes, each caste is broadcast music each night that will soothe and reassure it. A newspaper reporter interviews Mr. Pettigill, the man who has been in charge of the tapes and broadcasts for 20 years. The reporter's idle question sets a chain of events going.
It's a two-character story, and the characters have little back-story, but the plot was entertaining.
(1954) Sci-fi (Future society mind control)
From 'IF Worlds of Science Fiction' March 1954.