He took a deep breath. Now came the touchy part. He hadn't handled a pair of primary waldoes for years, and this thing had to be done just right. He had already decided which of the positions he would have to use and what he would have to do. Now, if only his timing was good. It didn't have to be perfect; that was the beauty of the plan. But it did have to be pretty close. He turned on the waldoes without turning on the recorder and slipped his hands into the gloves. Then, using the foot switch, he kicked on the close-up screen for the position he was occupying. The screen showed the secondaries of the hands he was using. He wiggled his fingers. The secondaries wiggled theirs. Then he reached out and gingerly touched the model. The secondaries touched the steel plate, and the feedbacks sent back a signal. Crayley's gloves felt the resistance just as though the model were right there in the room. Several times, he reached out his right hand to one particular spot on the model, practicing to make sure he could hit it every time. Fine, fine. Then he took his left hand out of the glove, eyed the wall clock, and turned on the recorder. The tape began to move through the recording heads. For five minutes he waited. Then, suddenly, he reached out with his right hand and grabbed the regulator coil housing on the side of the model. As soon as his fingers touched it, he hit the cut-off for the secondaries, knowing the primaries would continue to record. He didn't want to ruin the model. Simultaneously, he punched the high-power switch. His right hand, in the primary, grasped at mid-air and jerked down violently. The thing was done. Had he forgotten anything? He thought for a moment. No. All was well. He cut off the recorder and started to shut off the primaries when his eyes went to the screen. The secondary arm was still frozen where he had left it, grasping the regulator coil housing! He shuddered. If he'd missed that.... Quickly, he lowered the secondary to the "ready" position. Had he forgotten anything? Anything at all? He thought not, but he went over the whole thing in his mind again, step by step, to make sure. Nothing wrong, nothing missing. Fine. He wiped out the inside of the primary gloves and walked to the door. No need to worry about any other prints; he had been in that room often, and it might look funny if the whole place was wiped clean. As a matter of fact, he really didn't need to worry about the primaries; the grid inside them probably wouldn't take a print anyway. Still, there was nothing like being cautious. He opened the door and stepped out as if he had every right to be there. No use peeking around corners; that would only rouse suspicion. He strolled on down the corridor to the tube lift. He felt wonderful. He actually grinned with his face. There was no one around to see it. * * * * *