From the first, there was rigid Federal control and laws regulating the use of Primes right down to the local level. You could get a license for a Utility model Prime if you were a big business executive, or a high public official, or a movie star, or something like that; but even then his circuits had to be inspected every two months, and he had to have a thousand built-in Paralyzers, and you had to specify in advance exactly what you wanted your Prime to be able to do when, where, how, why, and under what circumstances. The law didn't leave a man much leeway. But everybody knew that if you _really_ wanted a personal Prime with all his circuits open and no questions asked, you could get one. Black market prices were steep and you ran your own risk, but it could be done. Harry Folsom told his friend who knew a guy, and a few greenbacks got lost somewhere, and I found myself looking at a greasy little man with a black mustache and a bald spot, up in a dingy fourth-story warehouse off lower Broadway. "Ah, yes," the little man said. "Mr. Faircloth. We've been expecting you." * * * * * I didn't like the looks of the guy any more than the looks of the place. "I've been told you can supply me with a--" He coughed. "Yes, yes. I understand. It might be possible." He fingered his mustache and regarded me from pouchy eyes. "Busy executives often come to us to avoid the--ah--unpleasantness of formal arrangements. Naturally, we only act as agents, you might say. We never see the merchandise ourselves--" He wiped his hands on his trousers. "Now were you interested in the ordinary Utility model, Mr. Faircloth?" I assumed he was just being polite. You didn't come to the back door for Utility models. "Or perhaps you'd require one of our Deluxe models. Very careful workmanship. Only a few key Paralyzers in operation and practically complete circuit duplication. Very useful for--ah--close contact work, you know. Social engagements, conferences--" I was shaking my head. "I want a _Super_ Deluxe model," I told him. He grinned and winked. "Ah, indeed! You want perfect duplication. Yes, indeed. Domestic situations can be--awkward, shall we say. Very awkward--" I gave him a cold stare. I couldn't see where my domestic problems were any affairs of his. He got the idea and hurried me back to a storeroom. "We keep a few blanks here for the basic measurement. You'll go to our laboratory on 14th Street to have the minute impressions taken. But I can assure you you'll be delighted, simply delighted." The blanks weren't very impressive--clay and putty and steel, faceless, brainless. He went over me like a tailor, checking measurements of all sorts. He was thorough--embarrassingly thorough, in fact--but finally he was finished. I went on to the laboratory. And that was all there was to it. * * * * *