She still had a good chance, of course, but not nearly as good a one as before. The two years she had been married to him would be an eternity compared to what compensation she might receive now, if she received anything at all. Perhaps she could make up to him before they got to Arcturus, convince him she was repentant, that she wanted him to remain with her. The thought of kowtowing before him, putting her pride on the auction block, sickened her, though. Besides, he would easily see through the subterfuge; though weak, he was not a fool. Inwardly, she cursed, her mind a frantic jumble of thoughts. There was nothing she could do, nothing except hope for the best. Unless-- The stranger appeared with the thought concerning him. He dropped into the seat beside her. "Have you reconsidered?" he asked her quietly. It was murder, she knew, and yet George was only an android, something that was manufactured artificially in a laboratory in great liquid-filled tanks; that somehow made it different, made it something like putting a machine out of commission rather than destroying a life. She wet her lips. "In the eyes of the law," she said, "it's murder, you know." "All the laws in the universe," the man returned gravely, "will not make an android human, Mrs. Bennet. There is a faction which gives our organization a bonus each time an android is destroyed, so you can see you're not alone in this." She didn't look at him. "How would you do it?" "Efficiently," he replied vaguely, "in a way I cannot yet disclose. Satisfaction, however, is guaranteed." "Ten percent of the insurance money is the total fee?" "Ten percent of _all_ insurance monies," he corrected, "which is not necessarily the same thing." He drew a paper from his coat, opened it and handed her a pen. "I have to sign something?" she asked. "But won't that incriminate me?" "You promise to pay the ten percent _in consideration of services rendered_," the man explained. "The services are, of course, not stated." She took the pen and signed before she could talk herself out of it. "When will it be?" Carefully, he folded the document and returned it to his coat. "Before we reach Arcturus," the man said, getting up. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Bennet. Glad to be of service to you." And he walked away. * * * * * She nodded vaguely and then began considering what she had done. George was an android, she told herself again, only an android. But how could you tell an android from a human? Certainly not outwardly. Blood chemistry was different, but the blood was red just the same. The skin was a different composition, yet it felt and looked like human skin. The personality and the character had human flaws in them. What, then, was the difference? The answer came: an android was not human because he was an android, which by definition was not human.