2
Don hurried down the passageway after the meeting had disbanded. As he approached the doorway to the immense laboratory containing the protoplasm tanks, a hurrying figure from a side passageway collided with him.
Stifling an exclamation as he saw who it was, Don exclaimed, "Shiela! What in the world are you doing here?"
"I wanted to find out what had happened at the meeting," she replied, brushing stray strands of golden-brown hair from her face. "You know how father never tells me anything."
"You know that Dr. Stone has more on his mind now than at any other time in his life," stated Don, steeling himself against the pleading and petulant look on the girl's face.
"Why have all of the roboes disappeared so suddenly?" she asked, changing her line of questioning. "Is it to be war after all?"
"Primo absolutely refused to listen to reason," Don explained.
"Whose reasoning?" came the soft question, "His or the Earth Council's?"
"The reasoning of his creators," angrily retorted Don.
She stared at him, eyes wide with amazement. "Don, it isn't like you to talk like that. Surely you don't say that the loud, fat General Adams," she wrinkled her nose with disgust, "is superior to someone like Primo."