"I want to be a musician," said Danny. "A good hobby for a spaceman," said the sidewalk psychiatrist approvingly. "It's not a hobby," said Danny. "And I don't want to be a spaceman." "Not a spaceman?" The sidewalk psychiatrist seemed surprised. "Mars and Venus are settled. Last year a permanent colony was set up on Pluto. And a few months ago a ship set out for the stars. Spacemen have a glorious future." "I know it," said Danny. "But does everyone have to be a spaceman?" "No. Electronics is a good field. And then there's math." "I'm good in both of them," said Danny impatiently. "If I should tell you what I've done--" He stopped. It wouldn't do to tell; that would reveal he wasn't nineteen. "But I don't want to be any of those. Isn't there room somewhere for a musician?" "You think other things are important. So, Danny?" The machine paused. "You're right. There are stars inside that have to be reached." The sidewalk psychiatrist pondered. "Then be what you want, Danny. Study and listen. Maybe when you've heard everything there is, you'll wish you hadn't. But you will be an authority." "I don't want to be an authority," yelled Danny. He didn't lower his voice. "I want to be a musician." The machine seemed to be lost. "You mean you want to play an instrument?" "That's it. Also, if I'm good enough, to compose music." "Compose?" said the machine. "Play? There's no way to do that. Even if you could find an instrument, robots can play it better." "Robots can't play at all," said Danny. "They're machines. They merely repeat the notes that men played long ago. And when they do it--" He stopped. He wanted information, not an argument. He controlled his voice and spoke more slowly. "This is a hypothetical question. How would I, or anyone, learn to be a musician?" "Don't ask that question." "But I did," said Danny. "It's not against the law." "But against custom," answered the S.P. "And that's stronger than you think. It's the matrix out of which laws are formed." "I've paid you," said Danny. "Answer my question." The machine spoke with difficulty. "First, secretly you must find--" The voice broke off, and though Danny shouted, it would not answer. A light flashed on the panel. PLEASE REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE. THE PSYCH SQUAD WILL SOON BE HERE. DON'T ATTEMPT VIOLENCE; IT WILL BE MET WITH FORCE IF NECESSARY. YOU HAVE INDICATED YOU ARE AN ABNORMAL MEMBER OF SOCIETY. * * * * * Padded arms swung from beneath the couch to enfold him, but he avoided the clumsy efforts. He sprang to the door. It was locked. He shook it, but it wasn't easily forced. He searched his pockets. Nothing to help him. Next time he wouldn't come unprepared. Soft music crept into the narrow chamber. It was meant to be soothing; under the circumstances it wasn't. Danny pounded wildly at the door. The hinges gave a little, but not enough.