ed Betsy, fluffing her thick black hair with her fingers and
inspecting herself in a Herbert-made mirror.

"I don't see how," answered blond Alice glumly. "That atmospheric trap
would wreck any other ship just as it wrecked ours, and the same
magnetic layer prevents any radio message from getting out. No, I'm
afraid we're a colony."

"A colony perpetuates itself," reminded sharp-faced Marguerite, acidly.
"We aren't a colony, without men."

They were not the prettiest four women in the universe, nor the
youngest. The prettiest women and the youngest did not go to space. But
they were young enough and healthy enough, or they could not have gone
to space.

It had been a year and a half now--an Earth year and a half on a nice
little planet revolving around a nice little yellow sun. Herbert, the
robot, was obedient and versatile and had provided them with a house,
food, clothing, anything they wished created out of the raw elements of
earth and air and water. But the bones of all the men who had been
aspace with these four ladies lay mouldering in the wreckage of their
spaceship.

And Herbert could not create a man. Herbert did not have to have direct
orders, and he had tried once to create a man when he had overheard them
wishing for one. They had buried the corpse--perfect in every detail
except that it never had been alive.

"It's been a hot day," said Alice, fanning her brow. "I wish it would
rain."

Silently, Herbert moved from his corner and went out the door.

Marguerite gestured after him with a bitter little laugh.

"It'll rain this afternoon," she said. "I don't know how Herbert does
it--maybe with silver iodide. But it'll rain. Wouldn't it have been
simpler to get him to air-condition the house, Alice?"

"That's a good idea," said Alice thoughtfully. "We should have had him
do it before."

* * * * *

Herbert had not quite completed the task of air-conditioning the house
when the other spaceship crashed. They all rushed out to the smoking
site--the four women and Herbert.

It was a tiny scoutship, and its single occupant was alive.

He was unconscious, but he was alive. And he was a man!

They carted him back to the house, tenderly, and put him to bed. They
hovered over him like four hens over a single chick, waiting and
watching for him to come out of his coma, while Herbert scurried about
creating and administering the necessary medicines.

"He'll live," said Th