The girl, who looked a brisk, efficient and ripe eighteen, beckoned to Steve. He followed her from the room. She closed the door softly, carefully, stood leaning against it, eyeing Steve. She murmured, "U seen yung to bay," but Steve shook his head, and she went ahead of him into another room. There was no one there, but one of the thought machines stood on a pedestal beside several other machines. She switched on the augmenter and Steve heard her thought, like slow, perfect music on a thrilling harp.... "You are here too short a time to judge what you like and dislike. Let me show you what the change has given us before you refuse a chance to be like us." Steve shook his head, murmured, "Not interested. Peddle it somewhere else." She appeared not to hear him. Her thought went on, inexorable, beautiful, without a ripple of irritation or haste: "The change was not brought about in a day, Earthman. Nor are we finished, ever, with attempts to make life more worth having. Our people hated the change, at first. Centuries passed before it was fully demonstrated to be a far more pleasant and satisfying way of life. You cannot judge this thing with ordinary standards. We accomplish just as much as before, without the frenetic hub-bub that we once thought necessary." Steve smiled, as if he owned a secret she could never see. "I'd rather be dead, than turned into a damned robot." * * * * * The girl moved toward him, her face pale and perfect as a prize rose. "Look into my eyes, foolish one ..." she whispered, and her thought in his mind was a bold invitation. He looked into the deep green-blue depths and he saw there real emotion, waiting to be borne into a consuming fire of passion. Her arms went around him, and though they were strong and hard arms, he did not feel that, for her lips touched his, and a shock of ecstasy ran through him so that he shook like a leaf in a breeze. Her thoughts plunged on--he had to listen--"You think we are dead robots because you do not see our life. You cannot see it, until you are one of us. Then it becomes quite clear, our life is more than before." Steve's thoughts, unlocked from sad introspection and loneliness, plunged suddenly into a swirl of desire. He could not help wishing to see her body without the sleek rippling film of silk. He could not help wondering if the bodies of these machine-like people were as perfect as their faces were perfect. She laughed as the machine augmented his inadvertent wish ... and she zipped down her side, tossed off the one piece jumper of silken stuff. She stood there, perfect and desirable. Steve flushed. "That wasn't necessary, baby," he heard himself say, embarrassed. "I couldn't help wishing." "More you can never have, while you are made of flesh. My arms would crush you, my lips burst your soft flesh lips. But if you underwent the treatment ..." she smiled. Her meaning was unmistakable, too much so and Steve flushed, guiltily.