ng, but
it cost plenty to maintain the illusion. A society event, he supposed,
called for such precautions. There must be more inside.

He ignored the mirror and pressed a blank section of the wall directly
opposite. The wall faded and a robot in an impressive black-and-white
livery stared at him with the proper insolence.

"Your invitation, sir."

"What?" he said tipsily.

"Your invitation, sir." The voice was louder and the insolence
increased. If he asked again, the robot would very likely shove him out
and close the door. Delicately adjusted and unhumanly strong, it was a
bit too invariable in the behavior department to be consistently
efficient.

His knowledge of robots was more than fair. In a few seconds he sized up
the model facing him. A thin slip fluttered from his hand to the floor.
The robot bent over to pick it up. At that instant Jadiver thrust a
long, thin, double-tined fork deep into the back of the robot's neck,
probing for the right place. He found it. Time became static for the
robot; it remained bent over and could not move.

Jadiver rifled the pockets, removed all the invitations, glanced at
them, found one that would do, and thrust the rest back. Shadows of
figures passed across the field behind the robot. Could they see what
Jadiver was doing? Probably not; privacy was too highly regarded.
Nevertheless, some people were coming down the corridor and _they_ could
see when and if they got close. Stepping back, he took away the
double-tined fork and the robot straightened up.

"You dropped something, sir," said the robot, handing him the slip from
the floor.

"It was nothing," said Jadiver, taking it. That was the best description
of what he had dropped. He extended the invitation he had just filched.

The robot grasped the invitation and seemed unable to focus. It tried to
examine the markings invisible to human eyes. It passed a trembling hand
across a troubled forehead.

"Didn't you come in half an hour ago?" it asked in bewilderment.

Someone had--the person to whom the invitation had been issued. The
robot, of course, had remembered.

"Nonsense," said Jadiver sharply. "Do you feel right? Are you sure of
your equilibrium?"

If it was sure, he had miscalculated badly. Robots were so much more or
less than humans. It should be possible to design a perfect robot, one
that would realize all the potentialities of a mechanical personality.
It had never been done; anthropomorphic concept