"Did I? But you're not Mammoth-Slayer," ENIAC said confusedly. "Mammoth-Slayer was the son of the Great Hairy One. What's your mother's name?"
"The Great Hairy One," Martin replied, at which the robot grated its hand across its gleaming forehead.
"Have one more jolt," Martin suggested. "Now take out the ecologizer and put it on my head."
"Like this?" ENIAC asked, obeying. "I keep feeling I've forgotten something important. F (t). "
Martin adjusted the crystal helmet on his skull. "Now," he commanded. "Give me the character-matrix of Mammoth-Slayer, son of the Great Hairy One."
"Well—all right," ENIAC said dizzily. The red ribbons swirled. There was a flash from the helmet. "There," the robot said. "It's done. It may take a few minutes to begin functioning, but then for twelve hours you'll—wait! Where are you going?"
But Martin had already departed.
The robot stuffed the helmet and the quarter-mile of red ribbon back for the last time. He lurched to the floor-lamp, muttering something about one for the road. Afterward, the room lay empty. A fading murmur said, " F(t). "
* * *
"Nick!" Erika gasped, staring at the figure in the doorway. "Don't stand like that! You frighten me!"