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You see, my dear, you always were a little calloused about love and sex. A true engineer. I'II bet you had a great time measuring and figuring out dimensions." Damn it, Grace, the country is ready for it. The penis detaches so the man of the house can wear it, and it helps..."Grace went into further peals of laughter."Oh, CHICAGO," she yipped. "Dear, delicious Chicago. No, you might as well cut him up for salvage. A girl robot for bachelors... maybe. For women, no possibilty. A-C will be laughed out of the country. Women will NOT have sex with machines, no matter how great they do it. Now let me show you my swimming pool."Nancy sat there, stunned and shattered, tears in her eyes, while the redhead began to press buttons. A catwalk descended from the ceiling, making a four-sided rectangle. Then energy rays shot down from the catwalk to make a huge box-like square, eight feet above the floor. Carpets retracted to show a shiny, hard-surfaced floor of some impenetrable material. Four. The few hours she’d slept in Felix’s arms had been wonderful, but weren’t nearly enough. After staying upright for as long as she could, she began slowly to sink toward the floor. The tattered rags of her clothing made a passable pillow, and once she was lying down, Jamie’s eyes dropped shut as if weighted with anchors. She would sleep very lightly, she promised herself, and only for a moment. She clutched Felix’s knife so the blade pressed flat to her chest, and then all was oblivion. It might have been hours or days later when she finally awoke. Sunlight poured through the open porthole along with the loud and shrill squawking of seabirds. They must still be within a few miles of shore, Jamie thought groggily, likely traveling northwest toward Guadeloupe and Antigua. Then her ears registered another sound—one that was manmade and that she knew very well: the steady drag of waxed thread through canvas. She wasn’t alone in the hold. Jamie scrambled upright, clutching a thick woolen.
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