My father looked displeased. "This is no time for that kind of talk. You knew full well what my assignment was about. I'm not ashamed of it." He looked at me sternly. "And don't you be either. Some day you may be carrying on my work. Do you know that?" My mother's face went white. "My robots will do all the world's work," my father said. "Not just the fighting. But they know a lot about that, too." He turned his eyes on me again, significantly, and he smiled. In the middle of that night, awakening suddenly, hearing an unexpected sound. My mother, sobbing, sobbing. My father, whispering, harshly, so close to red anger: "Oh, shut up, Laura! For heaven's sake, SHUT UP!" Oh, Faw-Faw, quick! Tell me a story! The wide lap, the cool chest, the soothing voice: "Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen, very peacefully together...." Information, registration, consideration ... MEMORY: Only a rhyme but.... * * * * * "Sick, sick! With what? Tell me that. With what?" My mother, drawn and pale. The plump hand that could touch so gently now thin and bony, clutching the sheet. Softly: "I don't know, Richard...." "The doctors should know, Laura. The hospital should know. Do you doubt what they said?" "No. I don't doubt them." Faw-Faw, why was I so frightened? "They've seen cases like yours before, those Army doctors. They have an ugly word for it in the Army, Laura." "Richard, I'm sorry...." Anger, red anger. Would he take the thick brown strap to _her_? Oh, never, Faw-Faw, never! "Two years of work! Two years--and now that pip-squeak Morgan is 'filling in' for me! It's just not _fair_, don't you see that? And all because you _think_ you're sick." "Richard...." "Never mind, never mind. I've stood by your bedside long enough. Hulda can take care of you; you don't need me. You'll have what you want. You'll be home to smother that boy with sticky love. You'll be happy. _But I must get back to work!_" Why did I cry, Faw-Faw? What frightened me so? "Richard, please--" "What is it?" "Don't go back!" "What?" "Don't go back there. Don't help them make those monsters!" My mother, up on her feet, following him to the door. She looked so small! Why, my mother was small! "Don't be a fool, Laura." "It's a _sin_ to make them! A mortal sin--" "Getting awfully religious aren't you? This isn't like you, Laura." Clutching at him, tugging, pulling. "Richard, don't go!" "You're hysterical. Let go of me and get back to bed. That's the only place you feel important, isn't it?" "I won't _let_ you go. I won't!" Tugging, pulling. Oh, Faw-Faw, why did I have to watch? "Stop it, Laura!" Shrieking, crying! "Richard, Richard!" Oh, Faw-Faw! Did it really happen? The upraised arm, that hard flat palm? The sharp, cracking noise? The moan of shock and pain? Oh, Faw-Faw! Did it really happen? Revenge, Faw-Faw! * * * * *