Honestly, Ben! Surely you’re not thinking of—”

of—

“Oh, nothing like that. Just a vacation. Only—”

Only—

Only those queer, peculiar people, the Burleys had seemed so relaxed and cheerful. Grandma and Ma Burley cleaning, washing, cooking on the ancient electric stove; little Donnie, being a nuisance, poking at the keys on his father’s crude, manual typewriter, a museum piece; Donnie and his brothers wasting away childhood digging and piling sand on the beach, paddling a boat and actually building a play house. It was mad. People playing robots. And yet, they seemed to have [p 35]  a wonderful time while they were doing it.

[p 

35

]  

“But how do you keep staying here?” he had asked Buck Burley, “Why don’t they put you out?”

“Who?” asked Buck. “How? Nobody can sell me on leaving. We like it here. No robot can force us out. Here we are. Here we stay.”

They pulled into the Guest-ville ramp. Bennie was fussy; the nursery Nana was strange to him. On impulse, Betty took him in to sleep in their room, ignoring the disapproving stares of both the Nana and the Roboy with their things.

T

hey

They were tired, let down. They went to bed quietly.

In the morning Betty was already up when Ben stumbled out of bed. “Hi,” she said, nervously cheerful. “The house Nanas all had overload this morning and I won’t stand for any of those utility components with Bennie. So I’m taking care of him myself.”

Bennie chortled and drooled vita-meal at his high-chair, unreprimanded. Ben mustered a faint smile and turned to go dial a shave, cool shower and dress at Robather.

That done, he had a bite of breakfast. He felt less than top-sale, but better. Last night had gone well. The Old Man would give them a pre-paid vacation clearance to any resort in the 

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