He reached for the stack of newspapers and carefully adjusted the panel beside Urei's No. 1 screen scanner. Albie's hand was steady, Benton noted, wishing he possessed equal composure. The palms of Benton's hands were sweating as he flipped the switches of the apparatus in the cases. His eyes wandered to the indicating meters, noting that they were comfortably at zero and showing no signs of moving at the moment. On the control panel were three beady little red lamps, glowingly insisting that the giant brain needed some attention, but he ignored them and flicked his eyes briefly upward. The sound-absorbent ceiling stared back imperturbably. There was nothing to give the impression that the mass of metal machinery above that ceiling and behind that control panel was broodingly biding its time, waiting patiently for the moment when it would take over the race of humans which had constructed it. Benton, however, knew the machinery was there and was just as certain that it had those intentions. He felt it watching him; he should have known it long ago, he realized. A dozen books had been written about Urei, and all of them had marveled at the many potentials the machine had shown which were complete surprises to the men who had built the big brain. Men had begun to personify Urei almost immediately. The machine had ceased to be U-R-E-I, meaning "Unified Reflexive Electronic Integrator", and had become _Urei_, an entity who could do just about anything in calculating and reasoning from supplied data. Men had felt the sentience of the machine for years, but had refused to admit it--even to themselves. "Nuts!" Benton growled, shaking his heavy shoulders. The doctor paused in the sorting of his newspapers, but said nothing. He selected one and spread it open on an easel in front of the screen. After one second Albie turned a page, continuing the operation until half the paper had been exposed. Then he laid it on the floor and selected another. "Atomic Energy Council," he said. "Nothing there." He repeated the operation with the second paper, but turned only three pages before laying it down on the first one. Benton suddenly gave a start. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead reached out and depressed a button. Then he looked at the doctor. For a second he noted nothing unusual and turned back to the meters. He felt a trickle down his side as sweat fairly poured from him; he depressed two more buttons and looked back at the doctor. Then he saw it. Dr. Albie was performing exactly as before, turning pages at the rate of one a second. But there was only one newspaper on the floor! He had picked up the second and replaced it on the easel! * * * * *