He sighed and drew her cajoling hand out of his hair. "They've got some wild idea the man who broke his leg wasn't a man at all. They think he was a synthetic of some kind. An android."
"Why, that's ridiculous. You saw him. You certainly know a man when you see one."
"According to Brent Taber, these androids are men, to all intents and purposes, but they're manufactured."
"That's just utterly insane. Are we paying taxes just to keep a lot of people in Washington who don't know the difference between a human being and a—"
"Rhoda! Please! I'm sick of the whole thing and I'd rather not talk about it."
"But he must have told you more than that. Where do these—these androids come from?"
"He didn't tell us any more than he had to, but I got the idea they think they're from outer space."
Rhoda laughed. "I never heard such foolishness in my life." She stopped laughing abruptly. "Who's us?"
"What?"
"You said, 'He didn't tell us any more than he had to ...' Who was with you?"