h.

* * * * *

Even before I landed I could see Jerry's eyes glowing a deep crimson
in the dark. He was alone, this time. He stood awaiting me--very tall,
very proud. And very human.

"Hello, Jerry," I said quietly.

"Hello, Mr. Morrison."

For a moment we just stood gazing at each other in the murky pre-dawn;
then he said sadly,

"I want to show you the city."

Side by side we walked through the streets of Carron City. All was
still quiet; the people were sleeping the exhausted sleep that follows
deep excitement. But the androids were all about. They did not sleep,
ever. They did not eat either, nor drink, nor smoke, nor make love.
Usually they worked, but now....

They drifted through the streets singly and in groups. Sometimes they
paused and felt about them idly for the tools of their trades, making
lifting or sweeping or computing gestures. Some laborers worked
silently tearing down a wall; they threw the demolished rocks in a
heap and a group of their fellows carried them back and built the wall
up again. An air trolley cruised aimlessly up and down the street, its
driver ringing out the stops for his nonexistent passengers. A little
chef-type knelt in the dirt of a rich man's garden, making mud pies.
Beside me Jerry sighed.

"One day," he said. "Just one day and they come to this."

"I thought they would," I answered quietly.

Our eyes met in a look of understanding. "You see, Jerry," I said, "we
never meant to cheat you. We would have paid you--we will pay you now,
if you wish it. But what good will monetary credits be to your people?
We need the things money buys, but you--"

"Need to work." Jerry's voice was flat. "I see, now. You were kind not
to give brains--real brains--to the robots. They're happy. It's just
us 5's who aren't."

"You're like us," I said softly.

He had learned to think from me and from others like me. He had the
brain of a man, without the emotions, without the sweet irrationality
of men--and he knew what he missed. Side by side we walked through the
graying streets. Human and android. Man and machine. And I knew that I
had found a friend.

We didn't have to talk any more. He could read my mind and I knew well
enough how his worked. We didn't have to discuss wages or hours, or
any of the myriad matters that human bargaining agents have to thresh
out. We just walked back to my Copter, and when we got to it, he
spoke.

"I'll tell them to