With that the big servo-pilot took off for 22A like a berserk robot and we were right behind him. We watched him tear open his old locker and gently lay out the girl's mech's parts so he could study them. After a minute or two he gave a long sigh and said, "Fortunately it's not as bad as I thought. I believe I can fix her." Frank worked hard over the blackened relays for twenty minutes, then he set the unit aside and began assembling the girl. When the final connections were made and the damaged unit installed he flicked on her power. We waited and nothing happened. Five minutes went by. Ten. Slowly the big robot turned away, his broad shoulders drooping slightly.
"I've failed," he said quietly. "Her DX doesn't respond to the gain."
The girl mech, in her blue dress, lay there motionless where Frank had been working on her as the servo-pilot muttered over and over, "It's my fault, I did this to you."
Then Min shouted: "Wait! I heard something!"
There was a slow click of a relay—and movement. Painfully Elizabeth Seven rose on one elbow and looked around her.
"Frank, darling," she murmured, shaking her head. "I know you're just old memory tape. It's all I have left."
"Elizabeth, it's really me! I've come to take you away. We're going to be together from now on."
"You, Frank? This isn't just old feedback? You've come back to me?"
"Forever, darling. Elizabeth, do you remember what I said about those wonderful green little worlds, the asteroids? Darling, we're going to one of them! You and the others will love Alinda, I know you will. I've been there many times."
"Frank, is your DX all right? What are you talking about?"