"It's a government project, and very secret. Can you understand that? Your mother and I will be living in very cramped quarters, and leading greatly restricted lives. There won't be any playgrounds, or children your own age, or anything." "And besides," said my mother (was that a tear on her face?) "you'll have Aunt Hulda, and Faw-Faw of course." "You'll be all right," said my father, as if he really knew. Was I happy? Was I sad? Faw-Faw, do you remember? What did I say to you that night, in the aloneness of my room? Did I cry? On the lap. Head against the chest. Press the button. Drowsy listening; soothing, smoothing, story-telling voice.... "Now the Queen, having eaten Snow-White's heart, as she supposed, felt quite sure that now she was the first and fairest, and so she came to her mirror and said...." Information, registration, consideration ... MEMORY: * * * * * "Say that again!" "You heard me!" "I _dare_ you to say it again!" "You're an orphan! I heard my mother say so. You ain't _got_ no father!" "You're a liar!" "Who's a liar? _Who's_ a liar? I'll show you who's a liar!" A scuffle in the sand. A hard ball of fingers on my nose. Blood on my shirt. Yelling, screaming, crying: "I'm _not_ an orphan! I'm not!" "I'll learn you who's a (puff) liar! I'll show you (puff) little (puff) snotnose stupid orphan!" Hot tears, shameless. Screaming, screaming. "Faw-Faw! Faw-Faw!" Pounding on my ribs. Then-- "Holy Christmas! _Holy_--" Revenge, Faw-Faw, _revenge_! "Ma! Ma!" Hold him, Faw-Faw! Punch him, Faw-Faw! Bloody nose, Faw-Faw! Bloodier than mine! Revenge! Revenge! Faw-Faw, revenge! Information, registration, consideration ... MEMORY: * * * * * "Oh, he's been a good boy, Mr. Emory," said Aunt Hulda. "But he broke the nose of the Brown boy," she added. "He did _what_?" said my father. Would the thick brown strap, the sudden red anger, appear again? I cringed. But Father laughed. "Well, well, _well_!" He laughed again, and squeezed my upper arm. I had pleased him! (Oh, Faw-Faw, I love you best, but that moment was sweet, sweet!) "He's a real Emory," my father said. "A real Emory! But don't tell his mother, Hulda. She wouldn't understand." "It was Faw-Faw," I said. The honesty of childhood! "Of course it was." My father smiled with pleasure at my robot. "He's a better teacher than I imagined. Now I don't feel so bad about leaving again." My mother came in. "Leaving again?" I said to her. Was I sad, Faw-Faw? Did I cry? "The experiments aren't completed," my mother answered. "Your father and I will have to stay at least another six months." Father said: "But it's worth it, son. There may be a whole army of Faw-Faws some day!" "A whole army...." My mother looked frightened. "It's dreadful, Richard, dreadful...." "Laura--" "Metal soldiers. Robot killers--"