pressed for
time. The set of tools were kept handy for the servos to adjust
themselves during stopovers was spread all over the floor along with
lots of colored wire, cams, pawls, relays and all the other
paraphernalia robots have inside them. We watched him work hard for
another fifteen minutes, tapping and splicing wire connections and
tightening screws. Then he opened the square box. Sure enough, it was a
female mech's head and it had a big mop of blonde hair on top. The servo
attached it carefully to the neck, made a few quick connections and then
said a few words in his flat vibrahum voice:

"It won't take much longer, darling. You wouldn't like it if I didn't
dress you first." He fished into one of the boxes, pulled out the blue
dress and zipped the girl mech into it. Then he leaned over her gently
and touched something at the back of her neck.

She began to move, slowly at first like a human who's been asleep a long
time. After a minute or two she sat up straight, stretched, fluttered
her Mylar eyelids and then her small photons began to glow like weak
flashlights.

She stared at Frank Nineteen and the big servo stared at her and we
heard a kind of trembling _whirr_ from both of them.

"Frank! Frank, darling! Is it really you?"

"Yes, Elizabeth! Are you all right, darling? Did I forget anything? I
had to work quickly, we have so little time."

"I'm fine, darling. My DX voltage is lovely--except--oh, Frank--my
memory tape--the last it records is--"

"Deactivation. Yes, Elizabeth. You've been deactivated nearly a year. I
had to bring you out here piece by piece, don't you remember? They'll
never think to look for you in space, we can be together every trip
while the ship refuels. Just think, darling, no prying human eyes, no
commands, no rules--only us for an hour or two. I know it isn't very
long--" He stared at the floor a minute. "There's only one trouble.
Elizabeth, you'll have to stay dismantled when I'm not here, it'll mean
weeks of deactivation--"

The girl mech put a small plastic hand on the servo's shoulder.

"I won't mind, darling, really. I'll be the lucky one. I'd only worry
about you having a power failure or something. This way I'd never know.
Oh, Frank, if we can't be together I'd--I'd prefer the junk pile."

"Elizabeth! Don't say that, it's horrible."

"But I would. Oh, Frank, why can't Congress pass Robot Civil Rights?
It's so unfair of human beings. Every year they manufacture us mo