"That is tantamount to an entirely new memory bank. Even then we cannot
guarantee that some other idiosyncrasy will not develop. Frankly, I do
not recommend it to you. It is an expensive process, and lobotomys are
mainly performed in the larger industrial robotic devices, where an
extremely expensive piece of equipment is involved."
The chubby man rubbed his jaw. "I've got to salvage my investment
somehow. How much will it cost?"
"Three thousand dollars."
Raymond shrugged sadly, turned and walked out of the room.
The Receptionist-Android looked up at him and said impersonally, "You
will receive the Doctor's enormous bill by Telefacs."
* * * * *
As Raymond entered his apartment, disillusioned and exhausted, the Four
O'clock News-Facs, containing his want-ad, was sputtering out of the
receiver.
When the News-Facs had ceased its chattering, he scanned the paper,
grunted a resentful satisfaction, and slumped into his favorite chair.
He sat and fidgeted, and waited and waited, until darkness fell. But
there was no response to his ad.
Finally he said to the android, "Looks as if you and I were meant for
each other forever and ever."
"Certainly, sir," replied the android. "You need a stable, intelligent
advisor and mentor to save you from your frequent, horrifying errors
of human judgment. For instance, I could have told you in advance that
electronic butcher could not so much as cure headaches in a buzzsaw.
In short, sir, you will never find a finer, more loyal, more capable
android than myself. Put yourself entirely in my hands. I will even do
your thinking for you."
Raymond shook his head wearily, and remarked, "I am both excruciatingly
sad and divinely happy at that information."
"I am mystified at your sadness, sir, though gratified at any little
happiness I might bring into your drab, miserable existence."