th the help of a dozen complex machines which
lay locked and sealed in the Maintenance Room for only his fingers to
touch.

It was a busy life for Loveral, up at dawn to work until deep night,
keeping his flock happy and free from spirit-killing labor. But it was a
perfect plan, one which had been tested and turned in his mind for
years. If he had to work hard to keep it running smoothly, that was all
right. In fact, he had never been happier.

Now, however, there was this business about Atkinson. Loveral was
disturbed about that.

He walked on, over the quiet path which would lead to the house where
Atkinson and his wife lived. Loveral smiled, in readiness for any happy
face that might appear before him, to greet him, to show with thankful
eyes appreciation for his wonderful world. But that, too, brought
thoughts that were a bit disturbing.

Lately there had been few such faces. Most of his flock no longer seemed
to care about walking along the cultivated paths, or smiling, or
nodding, or touching a leaf here or a flower there. They preferred, it
appeared, to remain deep inside their houses, as though they might have
become tired of the soft perfection of Dream Planet. As though they
might have become weary of quiet woods and sweet bird-music or a sky
which was always blue.

Loveral shook his head as he walked, puzzling out his thoughts. It was
strange, but nothing to worry about certainly.

Just this business about Atkinson. That was his only worry.

He came slowly up a hill, the top of which held a low curving house,
with a silver roof and wide, sweeping windows. There were yellow and
blue and deep red flowers, skirting the sides of the house, and green
ivy grew thickly between the glistening windows. The lawn, dotted with
small leafy trees and round bushes, sloped down from the front of the
house, looking like a carefully arranged painting.

Loveral pressed a button beside a shining door and waited, smiling
through his pale blue kindly eyes.

* * * * *

Mrs. Atkinson appeared after several moments and stood blinking at him.
She was a thin woman, who seemed to have gotten even thinner, Loveral
noticed. She was working her fingers at the neck of her dress. She
smiled but her lips wavered.

"My dear," Loveral greeted her in his soft voice, showing the goodness
in his eyes.

She nodded her recognition, opening her mouth without speaking.

"May I?" said Loveral finally, wav