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Taber asked as though hopeful of a negative answer. Blackwell held it up triumphantly. A few minutes later, he was gaping down at a hasty reassembly of what had once been the ninth android. He swallowed hard and said, "Nope. It ain't Jack." "You're sure?" Taber said sarcastically. "It looks just like the picture. "Not quite. Anyhow, it ain't Jack." The mystified Dr. Entman eyed Taber quizzically.
"A wishful thought, I'll admit. But it does have some validity. Also, it has a fact of some possible value to back it up." "What fact?" "That they haven't come down and taken us over." "You almost cheer me, Doctor. Almost, but not quite." "Actually," Entman said, "I've been wondering about something else." "What's that?" "When and how they came here before."
"Do you know where to contact King again?" "He's being tailed. They stripped me, but I still have two men left." "You're being treated miserably!" Entman scowled. "I'm going to talk to some people about this. I refuse to allow " "Thanks, but not for a while. I've shaped my operation on a one-man basis. I'd be embarrassed if they relented. I wouldn't know what to do with all the men."
"Oh, be quiet," Entman said with friendly petulance. "I was going to say that I was rather proud of those details. If our hostiles out there follow my specifications, they'll create androids with much smaller lungs and non-porous skin that will give them no end of trouble when they start chasing frightened householders down the streets of the world." Taber chuckled.
"It's a thought, but with their power they could achieve the same result with less effort by pulverizing us. Or so it would seem to me." "True, but maybe they don't want us pulverized; maybe they'd rather take over a working planet than a lot of rubble." "All that follows logically," Entman admitted, "provided the original hypothesis is true that they cannot invade us in person." "Right.
"How wonderful," she breathed. Brent Taber was human and his triumph had been a thing of satisfaction to him but only momentarily. Now it had a slightly sour taste. Not that he was unhappy. He was content and almost relaxed as he sat in Doctor Entman's patio and worked on a Scotch and soda. "A nice night," Entman said. "Beautiful. Those stars are about ready to fall into our laps."
He couldn't know for sure that we already had his 'brothers." "You're right you must be," Entman agreed. "Small consolation. I'd like a few facts to go on for a change instead of having to depend on logic all the time," Taber growled. "What are you referring to?" "The data. I'm assuming, if that's what's important, that the tenth creature has a way of getting the stuff back up there."
Brent Taber's eyes opened as Entman went on. "They plan to occupy us, certainly this we must assume so they're trying to create an entity through which they can do it. The process is really no different, even though a little more dramatic, than our science creating a mechanical unit that functions to the best efficiency under specified conditions." Taber's finger snapped up.
At the moment, Entman was having a fine, stimulating time dissecting the cadaver of the android. His ugly little eyes were bright. "It's a miracle, my friend! A positive miracle. The thing these people have been able to do!" "People? You've used that word before." Entman waved an impatient hand. "Oh, don't quibble!
Why else would the one in Chicago go brazenly into a tavern, start to drink and then get into an argument?" "That's right. The argument must have been started deliberately." Entman beamed on Taber. "I think we deserve another Scotch." Entman poured the drink. He looked kindly at Taber as he handed it to him, and made what seemed an abrupt change in subject.
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