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I let him worry about my amnesia and started home fast. I didn’t know what they’d given that Prime for circuits, but there was no question now that he was out of control—wayout of control. And poor Marge, all worked up for a second honeymoon—

Then it struck me. Poor Marge? Poor sucker George! No Prime in his right circuits would behave this way without some human guidance and that meant only one thing: Marge had spotted him. It had happened before. Couple of nasty court battles I’d read about. And she’d known all about George Prime.

For how long?

When I got home, the house was empty. George Prime wasn’t in his closet. And Marge wasn’t in the house.

They were gone.

I started to call the police, but caught myself just in time. I couldn’t very well complain to the cops that my wife had run off with an android.

Worse yet, I could get twenty years for having an illegal Prime wandering around.

I sat down and poured myself a stiff drink.

My own wife deserting me for a pile of bearings.

It was indecent.