A curvacious woman stepped forward and took Mary's hand. The woman's skin was tinted dark. Chipped and sculptured bone into slender rhythmic lines, electrically created carriage, stance, made, turned out. "All right, young lady. We will begin." They guided Mary to a large, curved leather seat. From the top of a long silver pole a machine lowered itself. Tiny bulbs glowed to life and cells began to click. The people stared. Slowly a picture formed upon the screen in the machine. Bulbs directed at Mary, then redirected into the machine. Wheels turning, buttons ticking. The picture was completed. "Would you like to see it?" Mary closed her eyes, tight. "It's really very nice." The woman turned to the crowd. "Oh yes, there's a great deal to be salvaged; you'd be surprised. A great deal. We'll keep the nose and I don't believe the elbows will have to be altered at all." Mrs. Cuberle looked at Mary and smiled. "Now, it isn't so bad as you thought, is it?" she said. The beautiful people looked. Cameras turned, tapes wound. "You'll have to excuse us now. Only the machines allowed." _Only the machines._ The people filed out. Mary saw the rooms in the mirror. Saw things in the rooms, the faces and bodies that had been left; the woman and the machines and the old young men standing about, adjusting, readying. Then she looked at the picture in the screen. And screamed. A woman of medium height stared back at her. A woman with a curved body and thin legs; silver hair, pompadoured, cut short; full sensuous lips, small breasts, flat stomach, unblemished skin. A strange, strange woman no one had ever seen before. The nurse began to take Mary's clothes off. "Geoff," the woman said, "come look at this, will you. Not one so bad in years. Amazing that we can keep anything at all." The handsome man put his hands in his pockets. "Pretty bad, all right." "Be still, child, stop making those noises. You know perfectly well nothing is going to hurt." "But--what will you do with me?" "That was all explained to you." "No, no, with _me_, _me_!" "Oh, you mean the castoffs. The usual. I don't know exactly. Somebody takes care of it." "I want me!" Mary cried. "Not that!" She pointed at the screen. Her chair was wheeled into a semi-dark room. She was naked now, and the men lifted her to a table. The surface was like glass, black, filmed. A big machine hung above. Straps. Clamps pulling, stretching limbs apart. The screen with the picture brought in. The men and the woman, more women now. Dr. Hortel in a corner, sitting with his legs crossed, shaking his head. Mary began to cry above the hum of the mechanical things. "Shhh. My gracious, such a racket! Just think about your job waiting for you, and all the friends you'll have and how nice everything will be. No more trouble now." The big machine hurtling downward. "Where will I find _me_?" Mary screamed, "when it's all over?"