It was better this way. I was glad it had happened. Now I could be sure of what I did. I crossed the room to a bench and searched swiftly through drawers of tools until I found a wire cutter. In a moment I had clipped the blue coated wire where it was soldered to the red one. Quickly, with sure movements, I fastened the cover back on the case, threw the switch that sent electric current glowing through the cold filaments of tubes, and returned the wire clipper to its drawer. And by the time I had adjusted the two hoods into position over Dr. Leopold Moriss' head and that of the waiting robot form, the meters on the instrument panel showed that everything was ready for the final moment. The moment I had been looking forward to, working toward; when I could touch the switch that would begin the final act, completing my revenge. My breathing was the only sound in the room as I stood for a moment surveying everything to be sure. I grinned into the doctor's closed eyes. It was too bad now that he wasn't conscious so that I could watch his fear and horror, so that he could know before I jabbed down on that switch what he had tortured me to discover. * * * * * All the hate that had built up in my soul went into that final act. I heard the faint click as the switch snapped over to contact. A horrible scream welled from the throat of the unconscious man as I ran to the stairs and stumbled down them. [Illustration: A wild laughter filled his eyes as he adjusted the controls and turned to see the figures stiffen under the jolting impact of the high electrical charge....] I waited in the chemical lab, knowing that Paula would be watching the door of the building, and not wanting to face her until it was all finished. I was waiting for the sound of footsteps over my head. Slow steps that would cross and come down the stairs. And finally I heard them. I watched the stairs and saw first the legs and then the rest of the man that was descending. It was the robot, controlled by the mind of Dr. Leopold Moriss. There was no hostility in its expression as its eyes settled on me. Rather, there was grave respect. It stopped in front of me, its movements so natural and smooth that no one could have guessed it was a non-living robot. I returned its studied gaze in silence. Then it went on past me to the door. I watched without moving as the door closed. "Dad!" It was Paula's voice. "Tell January to come in here. Lunch's ready. Dad!" Her voice was full of sudden alarm. "Dad!" Then, "January!" Her feet pounded on the back steps and the narrow sidewalk outside. The knob rattled as she fumbled, then the door burst open and she stood framed there, her eyes wide with fear and horror and a half realization of what her mind was not conditioned to quite accept. She saw me, and with a sob of relief she was across the room and in my arms. I held her head against the cradle of my neck, waiting. And then it came.