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“Why not? Stinson selected only educated, intelligent people. When one dies the cylinder is taken and adjusted to a new thought pattern—usually a person from the same family. I would say it is very likely that Konvs will be found here.”

He shook his head. “No. They knew we were coming, and no one said a word about others being here. I’m afraid we are alone.”

“Well, I think not,” she said firmly. “Anyway, the room will be comfortable.”

He shook his head again. “Why can’t I be in the house with you? There are two bedrooms.”

She said quickly, “You can if you wish. I just thought you’d like being alone, at your age. Most boys do.”

“I’m not like most boys, mother. The Konvs saw to that. Sometimes I’m sorry. Back in high school I used to wish I was like the others. Do you remember Lorane Peters?” His mother nodded. “Well, when we were seniors last year she liked me quite a lot. She didn’t say so, but I knew it. She would sit across the aisle from me, and sometimes when I saw how her hair fell over her face when she read, I wanted to lean over and whisper to her, ‘Hey, Lorrie—’ just as if I was human—’can I take you to the basketball game?’“