In Mrs. Swinton's garden, it was always summer. The lovely almond tree translation - In Mrs. Swinton's garden, it was always summer. The lovely almond tree Russian how to say

In Mrs. Swinton's garden, it was al

In Mrs. Swinton's garden, it was always summer. The lovely almond trees stood about it in perpetual leaf. Monica Swinton plucked a saffron-colored rose and showed it to David.

"Isn't it lovely?" she said.

David looked up at her and grinned without replying. Seizing the flower, he ran with it across the lawn and disappeared behind the kennel where the mowervator crouched, ready to cut or sweep or roll when the moment dictated. She stood alone on her impeccable plastic gravel path.

She had tried to love him.

When she made up her mind to follow the boy, she found him in the courtyard floating the rose in his paddling pool. He stood in the pool engrossed, still wearing his sandals.

"David, darling, do you have to be so awful? Come in at once and change your shoes and socks."

He went with her without protest into the house, his dark head bobbing at the level of her waist. At the age of three, he showed no fear of the ultrasonic dryer in the kitchen. But before his mother could reach for a pair of slippers, he wriggled away and was gone into the silence of the house.

He would probably be looking for Teddy.

Monica Swinton, twenty-nine, of graceful shape and lambent eye, went and sat in her living room, arranging her limbs with taste. She began by sitting and thinking; soon she was just sitting. Time waited on her shoulder with the maniac slowth it reserves for children, the insane, and wives whose husbands are away improving the world. Almost by reflex, she reached out and changed the wavelength of her windows. The garden faded; in its place, the city center rose by her left hand, full of crowding people, blowboats, and buildings (but she kept the sound down). She remained alone. An overcrowded world is the ideal place in which to be lonely.

The directors of Synthank were eating an enormous luncheon to celebrate the launching of their new product. Some of them wore the plastic face-masks popular at the time. All were elegantly slender, despite the rich food and drink they were putting away. Their wives were elegantly slender, despite the food and drink they too were putting away. An earlier and less sophisti- cated generation would have regarded them as beautiful people, apart from their eyes.

Henry Swinton, Managing Director of Synthank, was about to make a speech.

"I'm sorry your wife couldn't be with us to hear you," his neighbor said.

"Monica prefers to stay at home thinking beautiful thoughts," said Swinton, maintaining a smile.

"One would expect such a beautiful woman to have beautiful thoughts," said the neighbor.

Take your mind off my wife, you bastard, thought Swinton, still smiling.

He rose to make his speech amid applause.

After a couple of jokes, he said, "Today marks a real breakthrough for the company. It is now almost ten years since we put our first synthetic life-forms on the world market. You all know what a success they have been, particularly the miniature dinosaurs. But none of them had intelligence.

"It seems like a paradox that in this day and age we can create life but not intelligence. Our first selling line, the Crosswell Tape, sells best of all, and is the most stupid of all." Everyone laughed.

"Though three-quarters of the overcrowded world are starving, we are lucky here to have more than enough, thanks to population control. Obesity's our problem, not malnutrition. I guess there's nobody round this table who doesn't have a Crosswell working for him in the small intestine, a perfectly safe parasite tape-worm that enables its host to eat up to fifty percent more food and still keep his or her figure. Right?" General nods of agreement.

"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?"

The bear shuffled its alternatives. "Real things are good."

"I wonder if time is good.

I don't think Mummy likes time very much. The other day, lots of days ago, she said that time went by her. Is time real, Teddy?"

"Clocks tell the time. Clocks are real. Mummy has clocks so she must like them. She has a clock on her wrist next to her dial."

David started to draw a jumbo jet on the back of his letter. "You and I are real, Teddy, aren't we?"

The bear's eyes regarded the boy unflinchingly. "You and I are real, David." It specialized in comfort.

Monica walked slowly about the house. It was almost time for the afternoon post to come over the wire. She punched the Post Office number on the dial on her wrist but nothing came through. A few minutes more.

She could take up her painting. Or she could dial her friends. Or she could wait till Henry came home. Or she could go up and play with David....

She walked out into the hall and to the bottom of the stairs.

"David!"

No answer. She called again and a third time.

"Teddy!" she called, in sharper tones.

"Yes, Mummy!" After a moment's pause, Teddy's head of golden fur appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Is David in his room, Teddy?"

"David went into the garden, Mummy."

"Come down here, Teddy!"

She stood impassively, watching the little furry figure as it climbed down from step to step on its stubby limbs. When it reached the bottom, she picked it up and carried it into the living room. It lay unmoving in her arms, staring up at her. She could feel just the slightest vibration from its motor.

"Stand there, Teddy. I want to talk to you." She set him down on a tabletop, and he stood as she requested, arms set forward and open in the eternal gesture of embrace.

"Teddy, did David tell you to tell me he had gone into the garden?"

The circuits of the bear's brain were too simple for artifice. "Yes, Mummy."

"So you lied to me."

"Yes, Mummy."

"Stop calling me Mummy! Why is David avoiding me? He's not afraid of me, is he?"

"No. He loves you."

"Why can't we communicate?"

"David's upstairs."

The answer stopped her dead. Why waste time talking to this machine? Why not simply go upstairs and scoop David into her arms and talk to him, as a loving mother should to a loving son? She heard the sheer weight of silence in the house, with a different quality of silence pouring out of every room. On the upper landing, something was moving very silently - David, trying to hide away from her....

He was nearing the end of his speech now. The guests were attentive; so was the Press, lining two walls of the banqueting chamber, recording Henry's words and occasionally photographing him.

"Our serving-man will be, in many senses, a product of the computer. Without computers, we could never have worked through the sophisticated biochemics that go into synthetic flesh. The serving-man will also be an extension of the computer - for he will contain a computer in his own head, a microminiaturized computer capable of dealing with almost any situation he may encounter in the home. With reservations, of course." Laughter at this; many of those present knew the heated debate that had engulfed the Synthank boardroom before the decision had finally been taken to leave the serving-man neuter under his flawless uniform.

"Amid all the triumphs of our civilization - yes, and amid the crushing problems of overpopulation too - it is sad to reflect how many millions of people suffer from increasing loneliness and isolation. Our serving-man will be a boon to them; he will always answer, and the most vapid conversation cannot bore him.

"For the future, we plan more models, male and female - some of them without the limitations of this first one, I promise you! - of more advanced design, true bio-electronic beings.

"Not only will they possess their own computer, capable of individual programming; they will be linked to the World Data Network. Thus everyone will be able to enjoy the equivalent of an Einstein in their own homes. Personal isolation will then be banished forever!"

He sat down to enthusiastic applause. Even the synthetic serving-man, sitting at the table dressed in an unostentatious suit, applauded with gusto.

Dragging his satchel, David crept round the side of the house. He climbed on to the ornamental seat under the living-room window and peeped cautiously in.

His mother stood in the middle of the room. Her face was blank; its lack of expression scared him. He watched fascinated. He did not move; she did not move. Time might have stopped, as it had stopped in the garden.

At last she turned
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В саду миссис Суинтон он всегда было лето. Прекрасные миндальные деревья стояли об этом вечный листа. Моника Суинтон сорвал розу цвета шафрана и показал его David.«Разве он красивый?» она говорит.David посмотрел на нее и улыбнулся не отвечая. Захватив цветок, он побежал с ним через газон и исчез за питомник, где mowervator присел, готовы отрезать или подмести или ролл, когда момент продиктовал. Она стояла только на ее пути безупречная пластика гравий.Она пыталась любить его.Когда она сделала ее ум, чтобы следовать за мальчика, она нашла его во дворе, плавающие розы в его детский бассейн. Он стоял в бассейн погружен, по-прежнему носить его сандалии.«David, дорогая, у вас будет так ужасно? Приходите сразу и изменить ваши ботинки и носки».Он пошел с ней без возражений в дом, его темная голова покачивались на уровне её талии. В возрасте трех лет он показал без страха ультразвуковой сушки на кухне. Но прежде, чем его мать может достичь для пары тапочек, он извивалась от и ушли в тишину дома.Вероятно он будет искать Тедди.Моника Суинтон, двадцать девять, изящные формы и lambent глаз, пошел и сел в ее гостиной комнате, Организация ее конечностей с вкусом. Она начала сидеть и мышления; Вскоре она просто сидит. Время ждали на ее плече с маньяк slowth он резервирует для детей, безумные и жен, чьи мужья улучшаются от мира. Почти рефлекс, она протянула руку и изменилась длина волны ее окна. Сад исчез; на его месте центр города вырос на ее левой рукой, полная скученности людей, blowboats и зданий (но она сохраняла звук). Она осталась одна. Переполненных мир является идеальным местом, в котором быть одиноким.Директора Synthank ели огромные обеде, чтобы отпраздновать запуск своего нового продукта. Некоторые из них носили пластика лица маски популярные в то время. Все были элегантные тонкие, несмотря на богатую пищу и напитки, которые они ставили прочь. Их жены были элегантные тонкие, несмотря на продукты питания и напитки, которые они тоже ставили прочь. Более и менее сложная ленные поколение бы рассматривают их как красивые люди, за исключением их глаз.Генри Свинтон, управляющий директор Synthank, собирался выступить с речью.«Мне очень жаль, что ваша жена не может быть с нами, чтобы услышать вас», сказал его сосед.«Моника предпочитает остаться дома, думая, красивые мысли,» сказал Суинтон, поддержание улыбкой.«Можно было бы ожидать такая красивая женщина, чтобы иметь красивые мысли,» сказал сосед.Отвлечься от моей жены, сволочь, думал Суинтон, все еще улыбаясь.Он поднялся, чтобы сделать его речи на фоне аплодисменты.После пару шуток он сказал: «сегодня исполняется настоящий прорыв для компании. Это сейчас почти десять лет, так как мы ставим наши первые синтетические формы жизни на мировом рынке. Вы все знаете, что такое успех они были, особенно миниатюрные динозавров. Но никто из них не разведки.«Оно кажется как парадокс что в этот день и возраста мы можем создавать жизнь, но не разведки. Наша первая линия продаж, Кроссуэлл ленты, продает лучше всего и является самым глупым из всех.» Все смеялись.«Хотя три четверти переполненных мира голодают, мы здесь повезло больше, чем достаточно, благодаря контроля численности населения. Ожирение в наши проблемы, не недоедания. Я думаю, нет никого вокруг этой таблицы, который не имеет Кроссуэлл работает, для него в тонкой кишке, совершенно безопасно паразитов ленты червь, который позволяет его хозяин съедают на пятьдесят процентов больше пищи и по-прежнему держать его или ее рисунок. Право?» Общие кивает соглашения.«Наши миниатюрные динозавров практически одинаково глупы. Сегодня мы запускаем интеллигентая(ый) синтетические формы жизни - полноразмерная порцию человек.«Не только у него интеллект, он имеет контролируемое количество интеллекта. Мы считаем, что люди будут бояться существа с мозгом человека. Наши порции человек имеет маленький компьютер в его черепе.«Там были макетов на рынке с мини компьютеры для мозгов - пластиковые вещи без жизни, супер-игрушки - но мы наконец нашли способ увязать схемы компьютера с синтетическими плоти.»David сидел у окна долго его питомник, борьба с бумагой и карандашом. Наконец он перестал писать и начал катиться карандашом вверх и вниз склона стол крышкой.«Мишка!»-сказал он.Тедди, лежала на кровати к стене, под книгу с движущихся изображений и гигантский пластиковый солдат. Речи структура голос своего хозяина активируется его, и он сел.«Тедди, я не могу думать что говорить!»Поднявшись с кровати, Медведь подошел сухо цепляется за ногу мальчика. David поднял его и поставил его на стол.«То, что вы говорили так далеко?»«Я сказал» - он взял его письмо и упорно смотрел на него. «Я уже сказал, «Уважаемые мама, я надеюсь, что вы хорошо, только сейчас. Я люблю тебя...»»Было долгое молчание, пока медведь сказал, «это звучит хорошо. Спускайтесь вниз и дать ей».Еще долгое молчание.«Это не совсем верно. Она не понимает.»Внутри медведь маленький компьютер работал через свои программы возможностей. «Почему бы не сделать это снова в карандаш?»Когда David не отвечает, медведь повторил свое предложение. «Почему бы не сделать это снова в карандаш?»David смотрела из окна. «Тедди, вы знаете, что я думал? Как вы сказать, каковы реальные вещи из того, что не реальные вещи?»Медведь перетасовываются его альтернатив. «Реальные вещи хороши.»«Я удивляюсь, если время это хорошо.Я не думаю, что мама очень любит время. Другой день, много дней назад, она говорит, что время шло ей. Это время реальной, Тедди?»«Часы скажите время. Часы являются реальными. Мумия имеет часы, поэтому она должна, как они. Она имеет часы на запястье ее дозвона.»David начал рисовать jumbo jet на задней его письма. «Ты и я, являются реальными, Тедди, не мы?»Медвежий глаз рассматривать мальчика неуклонно. «Ты и я, являются реальными, David.» Она специализировалась на комфорт.Моника ходил медленно, о доме. Это было почти время днем пост приехать по проводам. Она кулаками почтовое отделение номер на циферблате на ее запястье но ничего не проходило. Через несколько минут больше.Она может занять до ее живописи. Или она может набрать ее друзей. Или она могла бы ждать до Генри пришел домой. Или она могла бы пойти вверх и играть с David...Она вышел в зал и в нижней части лестницы.«David!»Нет ответа. Она призвала еще раз и третий раз.«Мишка!» она назвала, в острее тонах.«Да, мама!» После минутку Тедди глава Золотой Мех появился в верхней части лестницы.«Это David в своей комнате, Тедди?»«David пошли в Сад, мама.»«Иди сюда, Тедди!»Она стояла бесстрастно, наблюдая маленький пушистый рисунок, как он спустился от шага к шагу на его короткими конечностей. Когда он достиг дна, она поднял его и носил его в гостиную. Он лежал неподвижно в ее руках, глядя на нее. Она могла чувствовать только малейшие вибрации от его двигателя.«Стоять, Тедди. Я хочу поговорить с вами.» Она поставила его на поверхности стола, а он стоял, как она просила, руки вперед и в вечной жест объятия.«Тедди, David говорил вам сказать мне, что он пошел в сад?»Схемы мозга медведя были слишком простым для искусственности. «Да, мама.»«Так вы солгали мне.»«Да, мама.»«Стоп, называя меня мумия! Почему David избегает меня? Он не боится меня, является ли он?»«№ Он любит тебя.»«Почему не можем мы общаться?»«David на втором этаже».Ответ остановил ее мертвой. Зачем тратить время, говорить на эту машину? Почему бы не просто подняться наверх и scoop David в ее руки и поговорить с ним, как любящая мать и любящая сына? Она услышала сам вес тишины в доме, с различным качеством молчания, наливая в каждом номере. На верхней площадке, что-то движется очень тихо - David, пытаясь скрыть от нее...Теперь он близится к концу своей речи. Гости были внимательны; так пресс, две стены подкладка банкетные камеры, запись слова Генри и иногда фотографирования его.«Наши порции человек будет, во многих смыслах, продукт из компьютера. Без компьютеров мы могли бы никогда не работали через сложные biochemics, которые идут в синтетических плоти. Порция человек будет также быть расширением компьютера - он будет содержать компьютер в его собственной голове, microminiaturized компьютер, способный решать практически в любой ситуации, которыми он может столкнуться в домашних условиях. С оговорками, конечно.» Смех в этом; Многие из присутствующих знал жаркие споры, захлестнувшую зала заседаний Synthank, прежде чем наконец принято решение оставить порцию человек средний род под его безупречную форму.«На фоне всех побед нашей цивилизации - да и на фоне дробление проблемы перенаселения-это грустно подумать, как многие миллионы людей страдают от одиночества и изоляции. Наши порции человек будет благом для них; Он всегда ответит, и наиболее пресный разговор не родила ему.«В будущем, мы планируем больше модели, мужчины и женщины - некоторые из них без ограничений этот первый из них, я вам обещаю! -более сложные конструкции, правда, био электронные существа.«Не только они будут иметь их собственный компьютер, способный индивидуального программирования; они будут связаны с Всемирной сетью данных. Таким образом каждый будет иметь возможность наслаждаться эквивалент Эйнштейна в их собственных домах. Личные изоляции будет затем быть изгнаны навсегда!»Он сел под восторженные аплодисменты. Даже синтетические порцию человек, сидя за столом, одетый в костюм ненавязчивая, аплодировали с удовольствием.Перетаскивание его ранец, David проползли вокруг в сторону дома. Он поднялся на декоративных место под окном гостиной и осторожно заглянул в.Его мать стояла в середине комнаты. Ее лицо было пустым; его отсутствие выражения испугался. Он смотрел очарован. Он не двигался; она не двигался. Время могло остановиться, как он был остановлен в саду.Наконец она повернулась
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In Mrs. Swinton's garden, it was always summer. The lovely almond trees stood about it in perpetual leaf. Monica Swinton plucked a saffron-colored rose and showed it to David.

"Isn't it lovely?" she said.

David looked up at her and grinned without replying. Seizing the flower, he ran with it across the lawn and disappeared behind the kennel where the mowervator crouched, ready to cut or sweep or roll when the moment dictated. She stood alone on her impeccable plastic gravel path.

She had tried to love him.

When she made up her mind to follow the boy, she found him in the courtyard floating the rose in his paddling pool. He stood in the pool engrossed, still wearing his sandals.

"David, darling, do you have to be so awful? Come in at once and change your shoes and socks."

He went with her without protest into the house, his dark head bobbing at the level of her waist. At the age of three, he showed no fear of the ultrasonic dryer in the kitchen. But before his mother could reach for a pair of slippers, he wriggled away and was gone into the silence of the house.

He would probably be looking for Teddy.

Monica Swinton, twenty-nine, of graceful shape and lambent eye, went and sat in her living room, arranging her limbs with taste. She began by sitting and thinking; soon she was just sitting. Time waited on her shoulder with the maniac slowth it reserves for children, the insane, and wives whose husbands are away improving the world. Almost by reflex, she reached out and changed the wavelength of her windows. The garden faded; in its place, the city center rose by her left hand, full of crowding people, blowboats, and buildings (but she kept the sound down). She remained alone. An overcrowded world is the ideal place in which to be lonely.

The directors of Synthank were eating an enormous luncheon to celebrate the launching of their new product. Some of them wore the plastic face-masks popular at the time. All were elegantly slender, despite the rich food and drink they were putting away. Their wives were elegantly slender, despite the food and drink they too were putting away. An earlier and less sophisti- cated generation would have regarded them as beautiful people, apart from their eyes.

Henry Swinton, Managing Director of Synthank, was about to make a speech.

"I'm sorry your wife couldn't be with us to hear you," his neighbor said.

"Monica prefers to stay at home thinking beautiful thoughts," said Swinton, maintaining a smile.

"One would expect such a beautiful woman to have beautiful thoughts," said the neighbor.

Take your mind off my wife, you bastard, thought Swinton, still smiling.

He rose to make his speech amid applause.

After a couple of jokes, he said, "Today marks a real breakthrough for the company. It is now almost ten years since we put our first synthetic life-forms on the world market. You all know what a success they have been, particularly the miniature dinosaurs. But none of them had intelligence.

"It seems like a paradox that in this day and age we can create life but not intelligence. Our first selling line, the Crosswell Tape, sells best of all, and is the most stupid of all." Everyone laughed.

"Though three-quarters of the overcrowded world are starving, we are lucky here to have more than enough, thanks to population control. Obesity's our problem, not malnutrition. I guess there's nobody round this table who doesn't have a Crosswell working for him in the small intestine, a perfectly safe parasite tape-worm that enables its host to eat up to fifty percent more food and still keep his or her figure. Right?" General nods of agreement.

"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?"

The bear shuffled its alternatives. "Real things are good."

"I wonder if time is good.

I don't think Mummy likes time very much. The other day, lots of days ago, she said that time went by her. Is time real, Teddy?"

"Clocks tell the time. Clocks are real. Mummy has clocks so she must like them. She has a clock on her wrist next to her dial."

David started to draw a jumbo jet on the back of his letter. "You and I are real, Teddy, aren't we?"

The bear's eyes regarded the boy unflinchingly. "You and I are real, David." It specialized in comfort.

Monica walked slowly about the house. It was almost time for the afternoon post to come over the wire. She punched the Post Office number on the dial on her wrist but nothing came through. A few minutes more.

She could take up her painting. Or she could dial her friends. Or she could wait till Henry came home. Or she could go up and play with David....

She walked out into the hall and to the bottom of the stairs.

"David!"

No answer. She called again and a third time.

"Teddy!" she called, in sharper tones.

"Yes, Mummy!" After a moment's pause, Teddy's head of golden fur appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Is David in his room, Teddy?"

"David went into the garden, Mummy."

"Come down here, Teddy!"

She stood impassively, watching the little furry figure as it climbed down from step to step on its stubby limbs. When it reached the bottom, she picked it up and carried it into the living room. It lay unmoving in her arms, staring up at her. She could feel just the slightest vibration from its motor.

"Stand there, Teddy. I want to talk to you." She set him down on a tabletop, and he stood as she requested, arms set forward and open in the eternal gesture of embrace.

"Teddy, did David tell you to tell me he had gone into the garden?"

The circuits of the bear's brain were too simple for artifice. "Yes, Mummy."

"So you lied to me."

"Yes, Mummy."

"Stop calling me Mummy! Why is David avoiding me? He's not afraid of me, is he?"

"No. He loves you."

"Why can't we communicate?"

"David's upstairs."

The answer stopped her dead. Why waste time talking to this machine? Why not simply go upstairs and scoop David into her arms and talk to him, as a loving mother should to a loving son? She heard the sheer weight of silence in the house, with a different quality of silence pouring out of every room. On the upper landing, something was moving very silently - David, trying to hide away from her....

He was nearing the end of his speech now. The guests were attentive; so was the Press, lining two walls of the banqueting chamber, recording Henry's words and occasionally photographing him.

"Our serving-man will be, in many senses, a product of the computer. Without computers, we could never have worked through the sophisticated biochemics that go into synthetic flesh. The serving-man will also be an extension of the computer - for he will contain a computer in his own head, a microminiaturized computer capable of dealing with almost any situation he may encounter in the home. With reservations, of course." Laughter at this; many of those present knew the heated debate that had engulfed the Synthank boardroom before the decision had finally been taken to leave the serving-man neuter under his flawless uniform.

"Amid all the triumphs of our civilization - yes, and amid the crushing problems of overpopulation too - it is sad to reflect how many millions of people suffer from increasing loneliness and isolation. Our serving-man will be a boon to them; he will always answer, and the most vapid conversation cannot bore him.

"For the future, we plan more models, male and female - some of them without the limitations of this first one, I promise you! - of more advanced design, true bio-electronic beings.

"Not only will they possess their own computer, capable of individual programming; they will be linked to the World Data Network. Thus everyone will be able to enjoy the equivalent of an Einstein in their own homes. Personal isolation will then be banished forever!"

He sat down to enthusiastic applause. Even the synthetic serving-man, sitting at the table dressed in an unostentatious suit, applauded with gusto.

Dragging his satchel, David crept round the side of the house. He climbed on to the ornamental seat under the living-room window and peeped cautiously in.

His mother stood in the middle of the room. Her face was blank; its lack of expression scared him. He watched fascinated. He did not move; she did not move. Time might have stopped, as it had stopped in the garden.

At last she turned
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В г-жа молодая пара в сад отеля, всегда лето. Очаровательный ядра миндальных деревьев стоял о его в вечную листьев. Моника группа аккорда a шафран цвета закрывается и Дэвид.ветровому "не правда красивая?" она говорит.ветровому Дэвид до ее хорошо живётся не отвечая на. Захват цветок, он был выполнен с ее на лужайке и пропавших без вести за tut.by где mowervator протяженная,
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