First stood in the door.
"Yes...."
Now the pattern was clear. Sethos--the curious man, the genius--wasdoomed. He had lost a battle in which he never had a chance. Still, hehad fought.
But walking down the corridor with the mechanoid, he knew that no onelost completely. He knew that Sethos, the human, the adjusted hobbyist,would soon look back on this night as though it were an ordinary phaseof life.
Then, on the table, with the gently humming mechanism lowered to hishead, the knot in his throat softened.
"All yours," said Mr. First to Mr. Third.
"A remarkable case," said Mr. Third. "Sometimes I wish we kept a recordof his kind. It might be very interesting."
"Someday, perhaps. When our work grows dull."
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