"Robots, timed to administer it the moment we land on Europa. They have orders to direct resettlement without interfering too much--and of course, they are the eyes and ears of the Council; they are the only ones who have the necessary equipment for interplanetary communication, as you'll find out!" "I think they need a long, long rest, don't you Palanth?" Mark was smiling. "Indeed, O protector of the martyred!" Palanth exclaimed grandiloquently. "They must be tired, very tired ... of anything but sleep!" "I've never seen these robots," Mark Lynn thought aloud. "Are there many, Doctor Fortun?" "Approximately fifty--more than necessary, but they're to be used on landing by the scientists. These robots, Mark, are humanoid in their mental processes, able to perform tasks too difficult for human beings, especially in the mathematical field. They are created secretly, for the peoples of the World State must not know of their invention--there would be no need for labor if they were to be produced in sufficient numbers; production of necessities and luxuries could be increased a thousand fold, and ... it would destroy the present social philosophy of the World State. It would remove the _credo_ of achievement, it would abolish the standards of rigid thrift and conservation in a world of undreamed plenty, and finally, with robots able to solve the most intricate problems the absolute need for guidance would be neutralized. "The Supreme Council had these robots built for their exclusive use. Only one thousand exist, we've been allotted fifty because Europa's been acknowledged as a major achievement." "Can they be neutralized--the robots, I mean?" Mark was thinking at a furious pace. "These robots are impressionless, blank, so to speak. Their only motivation is to administer the sleep-freeze antidote to the scientists aboard. After that, the scientists can direct them to required tasks, and each problem as it is solved by the robot, remains in its mechanical nero-pattern for repetition if necessary. They're wholly metallic, almost indestructible. _Whoever uses them first, is their master!_" * * * * * It was then that Mark unable to restrain himself, bent down and kissed her. "It occurs to me," he said very gently, "that I've never known your social name." "Lucero," the girl whispered. "It's an ancient, almost forgotten name of the romance languages now lost." "The evening star!" Mark breathed. "No wonder you're golden...." Forgetting Palanth he was about to take her in his arms, when the latter coughed with the dry, hacking sound of the Martians.