tion. I was given no instructions to hold him."

* * * * *

Again the child cried. "Who needs to be told?" demanded Amantha. "Nobody
gives grandmothers instructions."

"He's got a grandfather to cuddle him," added Ethan. "How far do you
think we came to do it?"

"And he's not cryin' because he wants attention. Something's stickin'
him and he's hungry. Don't you think a grandmother would know?"

"There's nothing that can stick him, but if, by accident, something
sharp had gotten in his bed and if he were also hungry, he would sound
like this." The Sitta hunched down and swiveled its head, giving an
imitation. "You see? I do nothing but watch babies. It's built into me."

Inside the house, the child's tone changed, became querulous, listening.
Interrogatively, it offered a single yowl.

"My analysis was correct. It wanted attention. The parents left so
hurriedly, they forgot to give me permission. When I didn't come to
investigate, the child stop--"

The wail burst forth with renewed vigor.

The robot rotated its head and the alert look flashed on and off. It
stuttered, "I know w-what I'm doing. But I--I can tell only what has
happened to my charge, n-never what _will_!" The Sitta rumbled
bewilderedly. "Anticipation is beyond my capacity. The child _is_ hurt
and hungry. Please come in and help me."

Triumphantly, Amantha followed the robot into the house toward the
nursery. She whispered to Ethan, "Sittas ain't smart. I reckon he never
heard a bunch of babies together. If one cries, they all do."

The Sitta barred the path. "You seem sincere and are obviously an
expert. But before you go in, understand this--attempt no harm to the
being in there. I'm linked."

"You'll be unlinked if you don't stop acting balky," warned Amantha. She
ducked under his arm and darted toward the crib.

"By linked, I mean that if anything happens that I require aid to
handle, an alarm rings in Sittas Circle and help is on the way.
Meanwhile, I can put out fires or carry him unharmed through concrete
walls."

"Go ahead, run through a wall," invited Amantha abstractly, snatching up
the child. "The darling's wet, too. Fetch me a diaper."

The robot fetched at her command. And when the child was quiet, even
cooing, but with a sharp undertone of protest, Amantha settled back.
"Now we've got to feed him."

"They didn't give me special instructions and I can't originate. If you
hadn't come, I'd have h