r skull
with horror-story nonsense about machines sprouting minds and taking
over the world--until you're even scared of a simple miniaturized and
clocked recorder." He thrust it out.

"Maybe I am," Gusterson admitted, controlling a flinch. "Honestly,
Fay, that thing's got a gleam in its eye as if it had ideas of its
own. Nasty ideas."

"Gussy, you nut, it hasn't _got_ an eye."

"Not now, no, but it's got the gleam--the eye may come. It's the
Cheshire cat in reverse. If you'd step over here and look at yourself
holding it, you could see what I mean. But I don't think computers
_sprout_ minds, Fay. I just think they've _got_ minds, because they've
got the mind elements."

"Ho, ho!" Fay mocked. "Everything that has a material side has a
mental side," he chanted. "Everything that's a body is also a spirit.
Gussy, that dubious old metaphysical dualism went out centuries ago."

"Maybe so," Gusterson said, "but we still haven't anything but that
dubious dualism to explain the human mind, have we? It's a jelly of
nerve cells and it's a vision of the cosmos. If that isn't dualism,
what is?"

"I give up. Gussy, are you going to try out this tickler?"

"No!"

"But dammit, Gussy, we made it just for you!--practically."

"Sorry, but I'm not coming near the thing."

"Zen come near me," a husky voice intoned behind them. "Tonight I
vant a man."

* * * * *

Standing in the door was something slim in a short silver sheath. It
had golden bangs and the haughtiest snub-nosed face in the world. It
slunk toward them.

"My God, Vina Vidarsson!" Gusterson yelled.

"Daisy, that's terrific," Fay applauded, going up to her.

She bumped him aside with a swing of her hips, continuing to advance.
"Not you, Ratty," she said throatily. "I vant a real man."

"Fay, I suggested Vina Vidarsson's face for the beauty mask,"
Gusterson said, walking around his wife and shaking a finger. "Don't
tell me Trix just happened to think of that too."

"What else could they think of?" Fay laughed. "This season sex means
VV and nobody else." An odd little grin flicked his lips, a tic
traveled up his face and his body twitched slightly. "Say, folks, I'm
going to have to be leaving. It's exactly fifteen minutes to Second
Curfew. Last time I had to run and I got heartburn. When _are_ you
people going to move downstairs? I'll leave Tickler, Gussy. Play
around with it and get used to it. 'By now."

"Hey, Fay," Gusters