The large, spacious office, with its glowing walls, dimmed ceiling, and deep, soft carpeting was a silent, soothing relief. Raymond's android watched as the two men engaged in a mutually weary handshake. Dr. Millhop was a tall thin, sharp featured man. There were black moons under his eyes that lay heavily on long, guttered wrinkles. He leaned back in his chair, as Raymond explained the android's manifestations. The Doctor nodded his head in the manner of a man who had been listening to the same story all day, day after day. "Mr. Golden," Dr. Millhop said, "you must realize that every android has its own peculiar idiosyncrasies. Unfortunately, in some instances, there is absolutely nothing that can be done about it." Raymond gestured at his android, and asked hopefully, "What about this instance?" "I don't know," the Doctor replied frankly. "Before I can express an opinion, it will be necessary to run your android through exhaustive tests and have my technical staff examine its electronic circuits minutely. If it is a simple matter of rewiring, or, say, a faulty component, why, of course, we can straighten it out very easily. However, if it is a condition that is caused by Unknown Factors, then I can prescribe only one thing." He paused, spread his palms, and added sadly, "As so many of us seem to be attempting these days--_don't lose your temper_." "How long will it take to run your tests?" "We can send it into the lab immediately, run it through the analyzers, and have a report in one hour." Raymond reached into his coat pocket for a cigar, stuck it in his mouth and lighted it with an old-fashioned lighter. He puffed thoughtfully, took one glance at the android, and said, "Let's do it." The android's head swiveled sharply, staring first at Raymond and then at the Doctor. "Isn't anyone going to consult me?" Dr. Millhop's chair groaned, as he leaned forward suddenly. His voice was cold death in an angry whisper. "Shut up!" The Doctor viciously pressed a button. A large panel in the wall snapped open and two huge, square-shouldered, power-androids clanked into the room. The Doctor pointed. They lifted Raymond's protesting android, and carried it from the room. Back in the waiting room, Raymond drummed his fingers nervously on the receptionist's desk. He finished his cigar, started another one and finished that one. Precisely one hour later the little light flashed on the Receptionist-Android's dashboard chest. "The Doctor will see you again and again and again." As Raymond re-entered the office, the Doctor was examining a folder. "Mr. Golden," Dr. Millhop said in a tired voice without looking up, "there is absolutely nothing that can be done, short of electronic lobotomy." Raymond asked, "What is electronic lobotomy?"