Donald looked quickly, seeing that his superior was not joking. "I don't understand, sir; what do you mean?" "How long would it take completely to destroy the tanks?" Dumbfounded, Don blurted, "Destroy the tanks after the months of culture, Dr. Stone! Why, why...." The civilian came to his feet quickly and came to the bewildered and indignant Don, saying kindly, "I know how you feel, son. However, the future of the peoples of the world may be at stake." "But the roboes perform tasks in the radioactive fields that humans find impossible. They...." The other placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know. They can withstand radiation deadly to humans, correct?" Don nodded his head and the civilian continued. "Before we go any further, Donald, perhaps identification would be in order." He turned to the general, now standing. "This is General Adams." Don gasped as he took the extended hand of the Supreme Commander of all military forces on Earth. "And I," the little man continued, "am your Under-Secretary." His eyes crinkled good naturedly and he chuckled at the young man's greater astonishment, "It's quite evident that your time has been spent in research rather than reading newspapers." Again Don started to speak but the man, second only to the World President, held up an authoritative hand. "Please don't speak, we haven't much time. Perhaps the General would like to bring you up to date since it would seem that we shall soon be under his direction." * * * * * The General cleared his throat nervously, then stated authoritatively, "It should be a small operation, once we ferret out all their hiding places." "Whose?" demanded Don. "The roboes," snapped the General. "They've declared that, unless they're granted complete freedom, they'll rebel against Earth." "Rebel? The roboes?" Don turned to Dr. Stone. "I'm afraid so," admitted the other, creator of the first near-human robots. "The ultimatum was presented by Primo who claims himself to be their elected head." "But that would be impossible," argued Don. "Why their brains were so designed that a thought of rebellion would require the complexities of one of our brains, something we never have and probably never will be able to implant in their so-called minds." "I found it hard to believe at first, too," sympathized Dr. Stone. "Especially when Primo personally delivered the message to me to be sent to the Earth Council." Don sat down, weak after the first shock. "Then someone else must be directing Primo; he'd never turn against you." "Why shouldn't a machine run wild?" demanded the general. "This 'Primo' is nothing more than an animated calculating machine."