grotesquely enough, meant nothing to the creature who called
himself John Dennis. In the strange pattern of his consciousness there
were no patterns of definitive difference. Though in many respects more
able than the humans against whom he was pitted, he was no more aware of
himself as different than a dog is aware of its differences from a man.
The concept didn't take shape in the android's synthetic mind.

"Did he tell you where the man with the broken leg came from?"

"He said they thought it came from somewhere in outer space."

"There were others. Did he know of them?"

"No. He only told me about a man named Les King."

"What did he say about Les King?"

"King was there when the government man talked to Frank. That was all.
The government wanted them to say nothing."

"But Frank Corson told you."

"He would not tell anyone else, though. He is not interested in the
androids. He wants to forget them."

"But Les King does not want to forget them?"

"I don't know."

"Will he talk about them?"

"I don't know that, either. I have never seen Les King."

"Can the government man keep Les King from talking about the man with
the broken leg?"

"I doubt if he can force him to."

John Dennis again left the window and approached Rhoda Kane. She was
wearing a housecoat, a brassiere and panties underneath.

"Take off your clothes."

Rhoda unbuttoned the housecoat and slipped it off. That strange
excitement showed in her eyes now.

The android pointed. "Take those off."

As she unhooked her brassiere, Rhoda said, "My head aches."

"Your head does not ache."

"You are right, my head does not ache."

She slipped out of the panties and stood naked. The android regarded
her. "You are different."

"Of course. I am a woman."

"I want to make love." As Rhoda stood motionless, helpless, he spoke
very positively. "You make love on the bed. We will go into the bedroom
..."

Later, she was never able to recall any details of that next half-hour.
In defense of her own sanity, she was able to block the incident from
her mind. But as she lay naked on the bed, looking up at the man she
knew as John Dennis, she thought of her mind as being in two sections.
One section, the part of her consciousness that clung to reality, kept
saying, _I want to cry. If I could cry, everything would be all right.
Why can't I cry?_

The other part was a pool of quivering excitement. She lay motionless,
watching John Dennis undress