The machines then were constructed, so that, in essence, they were totally 'honest', and every part in them was recorded in a master plan, filed with the Fight Commission, so that nothing could be added, and certainly, nothing be subtracted from them, since their balance depended completely on very essential parts. They were also constructed so that they had their weakness-points in exactly the same places men had theirs. If a machine struck hard enough and exactly enough on the point of its opponent's jaw, it would jar wires and electrical contacts badly enough to stop its operational function--thus the "knockout". To all intents and purposes the fighting machine was constructed as much along human lines as was possible, even to the point of corruptibility. They all had a desire to be great fighting machines, and to go down in the annals of fight history. They were, each and every one, made for the purpose of practicing a deadly, brutal art by which men could sublimate the brutality that nested like a sleeping tiger in their own persons. Provision had even been made for the sight of flowing blood. The tough rubber skin that made the robots appear human contained the red oil that lubricated the steel "innards", and if the rubber skin split the more the bloodthirsty members of the audience were satisfied. What Charlie Jingle did, when he operated on the Tanker, was what might be called, in human terms, "over-conditioning" him. He tightened and sped his reflexes, shortened the length of his wires so that electrical responses had shorter distances to travel, sped up his Analysis-Pattern, hyper-toned his muscle-flexibility, and generally made him a nervous wreck. Then, as a final touch, he ran the tapes he had promised to run, striving to bring the truth to the Tanker. * * * * * "How do you feel?" asked Charlie as he watched Tanker Bell sit up, his face twitching. "Like a damn screwball!" said the Tanker. "Did you get the message?" "Yeah. Hammerhead never fought like the way he fought me in his life! Wha'd they do to him?" "Fixed him," said Charlie Jingle soberly. "The Contender too?" "Well you saw the tapes. They're all stuck away in that memory bank of yours. Whatta you think?" Tanker nodded, his head jerking up and down uncontrollably. "Fixed him too. But I don't get the picture yet. Do you, Charlie?"