I ever tasted," Martin agreed, lifting
his tenth glass of soda-water. He felt slightly queasy and wondered if
he might be drowning.

"Mammoth's milk?" asked ENIAC thickly. "What year is this?"

Martin drew a long breath. Ivan's capacious memory had served him very
well so far. Voltage, he recalled, increased the frequency of the
robot's thought-patterns and disorganized ENIAC's memory--which was
being proved before his eyes. But the crux of his plan was yet to
come....

"The year of the great Hairy One, of course," Martin said briskly.
"Don't you remember?"

"Then you--" ENIAC strove to focus upon his drinking-companion. "You
must be Mammoth-Slayer."

"That's it!" Martin cried. "Have another jolt. What about giving me the
treatment now?"

"What treatment?"

Martin looked impatient. "You said you were going to impose the
character-matrix of Mammoth-Slayer on my mind. You said _that_ would
insure my optimum ecological adjustment in this temporal phase, and
nothing else would."

"Did I? But you're not Mammoth-Slayer," ENIAC said confusedly.
"Mammoth-Slayer was the son of the Great Hairy One. What's your mother's
name?"

"The Great Hairy One," Martin replied, at which the robot grated its
hand across its gleaming forehead.

"Have one more jolt," Martin suggested. "Now take out the ecologizer and
put it on my head."

"Like this?" ENIAC asked, obeying. "I keep feeling I've forgotten
something important. _F (t)._"

Martin adjusted the crystal helmet on his skull. "Now," he commanded.
"Give me the character-matrix of Mammoth-Slayer, son of the Great Hairy
One."

"Well--all right," ENIAC said dizzily. The red ribbons swirled. There
was a flash from the helmet. "There," the robot said. "It's done. It may
take a few minutes to begin functioning, but then for twelve hours
you'll--wait! Where are you going?"

But Martin had already departed.

The robot stuffed the helmet and the quarter-mile of red ribbon back for
the last time. He lurched to the floor-lamp, muttering something about
one for the road. Afterward, the room lay empty. A fading murmur said,
"_F(t)._"

* * * * *

"Nick!" Erika gasped, staring at the figure in the doorway. "Don't stand
like that! You frighten me!"

Everyone in the room looked up abruptly at her cry, and so were just in
time to see a horrifying change take place in Martin's shape. It was an
illusion, of course, but an alarming one. His knees slo