“Our miniature dinosaurs are almost equally stupid. Today, we launch an intelligent synthetic life-form — a full-size serving-man.

“Not only does he have intelligence, he has a controlled amount of intelligence. We believe people would be afraid of a being with a human brain. Our serving-man has a small computer in his cranium.

“There have been mechanicals on the market with mini-computers for brains — plastic things without life, super-toys — but we have at last found a way to link computer circuitry with synthetic flesh.”

* * *

David sat by the long window of his nursery, wrestling with paper and pencil. Finally, he stopped writing and began to roll the pencil up and down the slope of the desk-lid.

“Teddy!” he said.

Teddy lay on the bed against the wall, under a book with moving pictures and a giant plastic soldier. The speech-pattern of his master’s voice activated him and he sat up.

“Teddy, I can’t think what to say!”

Climbing off the bed, the bear walked stiffly over to cling to the boy’s leg. David lifted him and set him on the desk.

“What have you said so far?”

“I’ve said —” He picked up his letter and stared hard at it. “I’ve said, ‘Dear Mummy, I hope you’re well just now. I love you….’”

There was a long silence, until the bear said, “That sounds fine. Go downstairs and give it to her.”

Another long silence.

“It isn’t quite right. She won’t understand.”

Inside the bear, a small computer worked through its program of possibilities. “Why not do it again in crayon?”

When David did not answer, the bear repeated his suggestion. “Why not do it again in crayon?”

David was staring out of the window. “Teddy, you know what I was thinking? How do you tell what are real things from what aren’t real things?”