Conditionally Human

By WALTER M. MILLER, JR.
Illustrated by DAVID STONE
They were such cute synthetic creatures, it was impossible not to love them. Of course, that was precisely why they were dangerous!
There was no use hanging around after breakfast. His wife was in a hurt mood, and he could neither endure the hurt nor remove it. He put on his coat in the kitchen and stood for a moment with his hat in his hands. His wife was still at the table, absently fingering the handle of her cup and staring fixedly out the window at the kennels behind the house. He moved quietly up behind her and touched her silk-clad shoulder. The shoulder shivered away from him, and her dark hair swung shiningly as she shuddered. He drew his hand back and his bewildered face went slack and miserable.
Honeymoon's over, huh?
She said nothing, but shrugged faintly.
You knew I worked for the F.B.A., he said. You knew I'd have charge of a district pound. You knew it before we got married.
I didn't know you killed them, she said venomously.
I won't have to kill many. Besides, they're only animals.
Intelligent animals!
Intelligent as a human imbecile, maybe.
A small child is an imbecile. Would you kill a small child?