"All right. We know they've sent ten creatures to our planet from infinity--that's as good a word to use as any. The next question is, why?" "Damnit, that question is obvious." "And from my point of view, the answer is obvious." "Then I wish to hell you'd give it to me." "Logic, man, logic! A race as far advanced as this one could certainly move in and occupy us without trouble. Wouldn't you think?" "Certainly. That's what bothers me. Why all the pussy-footing around with synthetic men who keep dropping dead?" "I think it's because they themselves are unable to exist in the climatic and atmospheric conditions existent on our planet." Brent Taber's eyes opened as Entman went on. "They plan to occupy us, certainly--this we must assume--so they're trying to create an entity through which they can do it. The process is really no different, even though a little more dramatic, than our science creating a mechanical unit that functions to the best efficiency under specified conditions." Taber's finger snapped up. He pointed at Entman's desk. "They'd like to know why their androids died. Maybe they weren't alike--at least, not exactly alike. Maybe there were differences you haven't found yet--maybe they turned out ten models and they want to know which one worked the best." "You get the point," Entman beamed. "They'd like the data you're assembling--those reports you've got in front of you." "I imagine they'd find them quite interesting." "Do you think we can assume the tenth android died also?" "Perhaps. We have no proof that it killed the one found slain in Greenwich Village." "I'm satisfied to assume that. But I'm wondering just what contact those 'people,' as you call them, had with their androids. Could a part of the brain have been a sending and receiving device?" "It would be difficult to tell. I delved in far enough to find a mechanical device, if there had been one. It did not exist in those I dissected. There is another possibility though, except that we often make the mistake of assuming that what we humans on earth can't do, can't be done. Consider telepathy. Who's to say they were not made capable of communicating in that way--at whatever distance?" He paused for a moment, deep in thought, before going on. "Has it occurred to you that the tenth android might be a supervisor, the boss, the captain? If he is still alive, why haven't you found him? You have the men and facilities at your command." Brent Taber sprang to his feet. "Doctor," he answered, scowling, "Did you ever hear of a project so secret that it couldn't even be given enough personnel to make it work?" Entman smiled sympathetically. "Washington is a strange place in some ways, son. Usually it's the other way around. You get so much help they get in each other's way. I'm glad I'm not involved in those phases of it."