Читать книгу The Science Fiction Anthology онлайн

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He was so lifelike, even I kept forgetting that he was basically just a pile of gears.

I’d planned very carefully how I meant to use him, of course.

Every man who’s been married eight years has a sanctuary. He builds it up and maintains it against assault in the very teeth of his wife’s natural instinct to clean, poke, pry and rearrange things. Sometimes it takes him years of diligent work to establish his hideout and be confident that it will stay inviolate, but if he starts early enough, and sticks with it long enough, and is fierce enough and persistent enough and crafty enough, he’ll probably win in the end. The girls hate him for it, but he’ll win.

With some men, it’s just a box on their dressers, or a desk, or a corner of an unused back room. But I had set my sights high early in the game. With me, it was the whole workshop in the garage.

At first, Marge tried open warfare. She had to clean the place up, she said. I told her I didn’t want her to clean it up. She could clean the whole house as often as she chose, but Iwould clean up the workshop.