at kind of equipment, you have to be a top-notch
scientist--and one that can do better at a top-notch job.

"Now, who's got money? The rich, and they _want_ to show it off wherever
they go. Naturally they take precautions, too, but people are always
involved and that's the weakness. You can build a machine that does one
thing perfectly, but people make mistakes--they get rattled. Teamwork
can take advantage of it. A feint here, and a block there, and before
anyone knows what's happening, we're through their defenses. With, of
course, their money."

Jadiver looked at him, at his handsome, ruddy, respectable face. "You
played football?"

Burlingame grinned. "Twenty-five years ago."

"It's changed. You wouldn't recognize it now."

"Perhaps not. But the principle is still the same, and it's the
principle that pays off."

Jadiver stood up. "I'd better get started. Where do I work?"

"Here," said Burlingame. "We have the tools ready for you."

"Mind if I look at the setup?"

"Go ahead."

The gamin bounced up and took charge of Jadiver, leading him to a small
workshop screened off in a corner of one of the larger rooms. The layout
was authentic enough to justify the equipment--a few robot forms in the
rough state, handbooks on design, several robot heads in various stages
of completion, and an assortment of the specialized tools of the trade.
It was standard for the tinkerer, for the would-be designer of robot
bodies. Burlingame always covered himself in every detail.

Jadiver inspected it thoroughly, the gamin standing impatiently at his
side.

"I'm first when you're ready," she said.

He eyed her amusedly. "What's the hurry?"

"There's more to do on me and you'll do your best work when you're not
tired."

"I'll start soon. Let me see the plastic."

She opened a cabinet and there it was. Jadiver squatted and read the
instructions on the containers. He shook his head in despair. Every
amateur always did this.

He stood up. "You've got the worst kind," he said.

She shrugged. "They told me it was the best."

"That depends. There are two kinds, and this one does look more real
than the other. In fact, for a time this actually becomes a part of your
body, a pseudo-flesh. But it's quite dangerous."

"The other kind is just a cosmetic, isn't it?"

"That's right, but--"

"Then I'm not worried," she said, tossing her head. "The way I see it,
it's dangerous not to use the best disguise we can get."

She