“I was aware there’s been some increase. I suppose there’s a certain fad appeal that—”

“Fad appeal! Mr. Smith, their mail has topped one million letters per week! Their budget, all derived from per capita recreation funds drawn on World State treasuries, will soon exceed that of my entire department!

“Your work may have been good stuff for an amateur, Hamilton. Enough even to get you honorary status. But it was essentially micro-sociology! If you knew anything about macro-sociology, and the possible effects of things like this on the World State as a whole, you might have been more prudent!”

Hamilton shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Ms. Ing sighed. She enunciated slowly, patronizingly.

“Even you had somehow caught on to a malaise that we pros have been watching carefully for many years now. It’s been hell, I’ll tell you, keeping tabs on this thing while every amateur psychology and sociology team in the world prowled about, sniffing. And it had to be you, someone who never had a single credential before, who came up with this monstrosity!”

“Now, I don’t see any need to get personal—”

“You’ve opened Pandora’s box!” Ing shouted. “Our calculations show this thing capturing the imaginations of over half the citizens on the globe within six months!”

Hamilton felt numb. He looked to Dan and saw only passivity. “Well, fads do pass. I don’t think Dr. Gustaf would ever do anything to capitalize on this. He’s a responsible citizen. He’d just humor the public, I’d guess.”

Hamilton glanced at the three AAA androids.

“Anyway,” he went on. “I don’t see where a human-android conflict comes into this.”

“Tell him!” Ing said to AnMan. “Go ahead and tell him who this ‘responsible citizen’ really is!”

The centermost android bowed briefly to Ing, then to Hamilton. His features were almost human, in a smooth, translucent fashion. His voice was cool and melodic.