blic opinion to our side. We're free!

"The minute I heard the news I applied to Interplanetary for homestead
rights on Alinda. I made arrangements to buy a ship with the money I'd
earned and then I put ads in all the Robot Wanted columns for volunteer
colonizers. You should have seen the response! We've got thirty robot
couples aboard now and more coming later. Darling, we're the first
pioneer wave of free robots. On board we have tons of supplies and
parts--everything we need for building a sound robot culture."

"Frank Nineteen!" said the girl mech suddenly. "I should be furious with
you. You and that Diana Twelve--I thought--"

The big servo gave a flat whirring laugh. "Diana and me? But that was
all publicity, darling. Why, right at the start of the filming Diana
fell in love with Sam Seventeen, one of the other actors. They're on
board now."

"Robot civilization," murmured the girl after a minute. "Oh, Frank, that
means robot government, robot art, robot science ..."

"And robot marriage," hummed Frank softly. "There has to be robot law,
too. I've thought it all out. As skipper of the first robot-owned
rocket, I'm entitled to marry couples in deep space at their request."

"But who marries us, darling? You can't do it yourself."

"I thought of that, too," said Frank, turning to me. "This human
gentleman has every right to marry us. He's in command of a moving body
in space just like the captain of a ship. It's perfectly legal, I looked
it up in the Articles of Space. Will you do it, sir?"

Well, what could I say when Frank dug into his fatigues and handed me a
Gideon prayer book marked at the marriage service?

Elizabeth and Frank said their I do's right there in the Renting Office
while the other robot colonizers looked on. Maybe it was the way I read
the service. Maybe I should have been a preacher, I don't know. Anyway,
when I pronounced Elizabeth and Frank robot and wife, that whole bunch
of lovesick mechs wanted me to do the job for them, too. Big copper work
robots, small aluminum sales-girl mechs, plastoid clerks and typists,
squatty little Mumetal lab servos, rationaloids, non-rationaloids and
just plain sub-robots--all sizes and shapes. They all wanted individual
ceremonies, too. It took till noon the next day before the last couple
was hitched and the 990 left for Alinda.

Like I said, the spotel business isn't so different from the motel game
back in California. Sure, you got improvements to m