I had a very fair part of the resources of a society
substantially ahead of our own working for me. As for knowledge of our
world, they didn't just know everything I did. They knew everything I
ever had known--or seen, heard, read, dreamed or thought of. They could
dig up anything, explore it, expand it and use it in ways I couldn't
have worked out in a thousand years. Sure, I was successful. I did stay
out of sports--too dangerous; entertainment--didn't lend itself too
well to the group approach; and music--they had never developed or used
sound, and we agreed not to go into it. As I figured it, music in the
soul may be very beautiful; but a full-size symphony in a sinus I could
do without.

So I had success. And there was another thing I had too. Company.

Privacy? No, I had less privacy than any man who ever lived, although I
admit that my people, as long as I obeyed the rules, were never pushy
or intrusive. They didn't come barging into my thoughts unless I
invited them. But they were always ready. And if those nine years were
less than perfect, at least I was never lonesome. Success, with me, was
not a lonely thing.

And there were women.

Yes, there were women. And finally, at the end of it, there was a
woman--and that was it.

As they had explained it, they were prepared to be tolerant about
my--ah--relations with women as long as I was "reasonable" in my
selection. Come to find out, they were prepared to be not just tolerant
but insistent--and very selective.

First there was Helga.

Helga was Uncle John's secretary, a great big, healthy, rosy-cheeked,
blonde Swedish girl, terrific if you liked the type. Me, I hadn't ever
made a move in her direction, partly because she was so close to Uncle
John, but mostly because my tastes always ran to the smaller types. But
tastes can be changed.

Ten days after that first conversation with my people I'd already
cleared something like $50,000 in a few speculations in the commodity
market. I was feeling a little moody in spite of it, and I decided to
quit my job. So I went up that afternoon to Uncle John's office to tell
him.

Uncle John was out. Helga was in. There she was, five foot eleven of
big, bouncy, blonde smorgasbord. Wow! Before, I'd seen Helga a hundred
times, looked with mild admiration but not one real ripple inside. And
now, all at once, wow! That was my people, of course, manipulating
glands, thoughts, feelings. "Wow!" it was.

First things fir