Peter smiled, and Lexington made as if to rise from his chair, thought the better of it, and shifted his bulk to one side. "Well, there it is," he said softly. "We reached that stage eight years ago."
Peter was thunderstruck. "But—if this factory is twenty years ahead of the times now, it must have been almost thirty then!"
Lexington nodded. "I figured fifty at the time, but things are moving faster nowadays. Lex hasn't stood still, of course. She still reads all the trade journals, from cover to cover, and we keep up with the world. If something new comes up, we're in on it, and fast. We're going to be ahead of the pack for a long time to come."
"If you'll excuse me, sir," said Peter, "I don't see where I fit in."
Peter didn't realize Lexington was answering his question at first. "A few weeks ago," the old man murmured, "I decided to see a doctor. I'd been feeling low for quite a while, and I thought it was about time I attended to a little personal maintenance."
Lexington looked Peter squarely in the face and said, "The report was that I have a heart ailment that's apt to knock me off any second."
"Can't anything be done about it?" asked Peter.
"Rest is the only prescription he could give me. And he said that would only spin out my life a little. Aside from that—no hope."
"I see," said Peter. "Then you're looking for someone to learn the business and let you retire."
"It's not retirement that's the problem," said Lexington. "I wouldn't be able to go away on trips. I've tried that, and I always have to hurry back because something's gone wrong she can't fix for herself. I know the reason, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's the way she's built. If nobody's here, she gets lonely." Lexington studied the desk top silently for a moment, before finishing quietly, "Somebody's got to stay here to look after Lex."