dictatorial machine that destroys all human characteristics?”

“I’ll even hate it,” said Roland. He looked at Frances. “If you do.”

She smiled very pleasantly at him and he asked, “But why did humans create this mechanical dictator?”

“We didn’t feed your brain much history. A waste of time,” she said. “Anyway, World Brain was a reaction to—to the Atomic War. That almost finished Earth life. And remaining humanity decided it couldn’t afford another. Human governmental agency is too unreliable. Even human dictatorship was, of course, variable. So all the greatest scientific minds pooled their brain cells and created World Brain. Now, human culture is fixed and static. For a human, that’s death. Nothing can change unless World Brain changes, and that’s impossible.”

“Well,” said Roland. “Isn’t that what was wanted?”

“It didn’t work out, Rolly. A billion people turned into stagnant automatons. When organisms stop moving and changing, they’re better off completely dead. Don’t you agree, Rolly?”

“Yes,” said Roland. “So why not destroy World Brain?”

“We’re going to,” interrupted Berti. “And it’s got to be done right now. Civilization—I use that word liberally—has simply stopped. And as long as the entire working culture is mechanically fixed, it’s absolutely hopeless.” Berti’s narrow shoulders drooped. “Not that everything isn’t, in its cosmic sense. But even the cosmos doesn’t make sense, does it, Fran?”

She shook her head at him. “He doesn’t believe in anything. But we don’t care, do we?”

“No,” said Roland. He wanted her to keep on talking to him, personally.

“We want to get rid of World Brain,” said Berti. “But there are difficulties. There are the Conditioners; they’re directly tied in with World Brain. From birth, everyone is conditioned to unquestionable, unbreakable bondage to World Brain. These matrixed minds can’t be altered. We’ve tried. The only alternative is to throw a lot of great big heavy air atoms and molecules among World Brain’s overheated electrons. But there are always difficulties.”

Roland was mad because Berti was talking instead of Frances. He kept looking steadily at her. He asked, “Then how have we three escaped these Conditioners?” She answered this time, and Roland soaked up her sweet musical voice sensually.

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