John Gardner made up his mind to buy his
            wife a very unusual present--one she could not
            resist. So he asked the salesman to show him--

                         The Obedient Servant

                          By S. M. Tenneshaw

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
              Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
                               June 1956
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


They quarreled at breakfast. This was not strange because they
quarreled often. But it bothered him after he'd called for his car and
was on the way to his office, he realized she was the only one left.

The realization came suddenly and now he was frightened--this strange
man who needed friends as a spider needs flies--in order to survive.
His wealth had drawn them of course; a fact he refused to believe.
But even unlimited resources could not hold them and insult and abuse
drove them all finally away. Yet he continued to insult and abuse while
painfully seeing them leave. Because that was the kind of man he was.

Until now they were all gone, the dear ones, the relatives, even the
fawners and he realized in panic that only Dolores was left.

_But she will stay. There is no cause to worry. She will stay because
she loves me because she married me._

But he was nervous. He knew this quarrel had to be patched up because
he had too much at stake. And knowing only one way to patch a
quarrel, he frowned and pondered. A gift of course, but what? She had
everything. Another diamond necklace? Another ruby ring? Somehow he
felt neither would do the trick this time. The quarrel had been very
bitter.

Then he remembered and smiled and told his chauffeur, "There is a store
I noticed in the International Building. Kamiss and Company. Stop off
there...."

He marched into the richly decorated showroom and said, "I'm John
Gardner of Gardner Industries. I understand you've got something new."

The clerk almost snapped his spine bowing. John Gardner! Mr. Billions
himself! If he could get him on the customer list it would be a
tremendous prestige boost. "Indeed we have, sir. I imagine you are
referring to our new unit--_Domestic Two_?"

"I don't know what you call it, but it's the servant-robot you people
have spent millions publicizing. Will it actually do what you claim?"

"Oh, yes. Our advertising was underplayed if anything. You see, Mr.
Gardner, robots have been found quite satisfactory for assembling
work--manufacturing operations and the like, where they functioned as
mere automatons."

"I know," Gardner said coldly. "I use seven hundred of them in
small-parts assembly."

"But only now has Kamiss been able to individualize the robot and endow
it with a real intelligence. The process involved a new sensitizer
we developed. This device is motivated by a micro-wave control
individualized to the unit itself. The result, Mr. Gardner, is basic
intelligence and unswerving devotion. Each unit is--"

"You talk too much," Gardner growled with his usual tact. "Trot one of
the things out and let me look it over."

"Certainly sir," and the clerk scurried away, fearful of offending this
powerful man.

       *       *       *       *       *

A few moments later, the drapes parted and a robot walked into the
room. Gardner scowled at it. He was disappointed. "Rather tall isn't
it?"

The clerk, following close behind the robot, said, "True, but its
dimensions are the result of exhaustive scientific research. The height
is nine-feet-three and one-quarter inches, the arm-span six-feet-two
inches. The body and the appendages are well padded with our new
_Vino-Live Plasticene_--almost a flesh-equivalent. The hands you will
note, sir, are absolute masterpieces of human ingenuity. The unit can
powder a rock or pick up a pin. Let me demonstrate."

"It's about time," Gardner growled.

The demonstration was spectacular. The robot took a one-inch steel bar
in its hands and formed a loop. It threaded an old-fashioned sewing
needle, then picked up a fragile vase and moved it tenderly across the
room.

The clerk beamed with justifiable pride. "Tell the gentleman your
qualifications, Raymond."

The robot looked at Gardner through two blue electronic eyes and said,
"I can perform any task a human servant can perform. And I will be more
devoted and loyal than a human servant could possibly be. Your commands
will be obeyed without question. Your wishes will always be fulfilled
to the limit of my power. You and you alone will be my god."

The salesman coughed apologetically. "A little flowery, I'm afraid, but
our advertising and sales engineers demanded it."

"Where does the voice come from?"

"Another Kamiss innovation. An ultrasonic selector draws the words from
a storage wire attuned to--"

"Enough chatter. I'll take one."

The salesman beamed. "Where would you like it delivered, sir?"

"I'll take it with me. I plan it as a surprise gift for my wife."

The salesman's smile vanished. "Then perhaps you could bring the lady
here to our establishment--"

"No," Gardner scowled. "Why should I?"

"As I was endeavoring to explain, sir, the units are, of necessity,
completely individualized. The controlling factor is the electronic
wavelength of the owner's brain. As you know, the frequency of every
human brain varies. No two are alike. That is the key to the whole
concept of _Domestic Two_. We--"

"Will you quit babbling and get to the point!" Gardner bellowed. "Tell
me in simple words why I can't take the robot with me!"

"Because, sir," the clerk answered in a frightened voice, "to be of
any value to your wife, the unit will have to be keyed to her brain
frequency."

Gardner stomped the floor. "Then you've wasted my time. We can't do
business. My wife would never come down here."

"But the adjustment takes only a few minutes--"

"We had a quarrel, you fool! She won't even unlock her bedroom door for
me. The whole idea of this thing was something to surprise her out of
her anger and bring about a reconciliation."

Gardner was striding toward the door. The clerk was frantic. This sale
would have got him Company recognition. In desperation, he hurried
after Gardner.

"May I make a suggestion, sir?"

Gardner turned. "All right--make it."

"It occurred to me that you might have the unit attuned to your own
frequency--temporarily, that is. You could present it to the lady, then
at her leisure, she could call here and have the frequency changed to
correspond to her own."

Gardner scowled. "Well, why didn't you say that in the first place?
How long does this adjustment take?"

"Only a few minutes," the clerk, said eagerly. "If you will just step
this way, sir. Come Raymond...."

       *       *       *       *       *

Raymond sat hunched beside the chauffeur who was a trifle nervous. But
the chauffeur hid his agitation because John Gardner paid well and
had been known to discharge chauffeurs who displeased him and leave
them standing on street corners without jobs. Gardner ordered him to
turn and go back home. As they rode, Raymond stared straight ahead, a
pleasant light glowing in his blue eyes.

When the car stopped under the portico, Gardner said, "Get out and open
the door, Raymond."

The robot said, "Yes, master," and obeyed instantly.

The chauffeur, shouldered aside by the robot, looked worried. Gardner
noted this and enjoyed adding to the man's discomfort: "Maybe they
build one that can drive a car. In that case I won't be needing you
much longer."

Inside, the robot gently lifted Gardner's coat from his shoulders,
hung it in the closet, then returned to Gardner's side. "Have you any
further wishes, Master?"

_Aladdin's genie come true_, Gardner thought, and amused himself for
a few minutes putting the robot through a series of grotesque duties.
Amazing! Perhaps he would get one of these units for himself also.

Then he turned his mind to Dolores. She was no doubt still in her room.
But this new toy would make her forget their quarrel all right. He
visualized her laughing interest. He could already see her clapping her
hands like the child she was and rushing into his arms.

Gardner turned to the robot. "Raymond, go up the stairs and knock on
the first door to your right. It is your mistress' room. Tell her I'm
waiting. Bring her to me."

The robot nodded and Gardner thought a look of adoration glowed in its
eyes. It said, "Yes Master," and moved toward the stairs.

Gardner sat down. He smiled to himself, anticipating the reunion.
It wasn't every wife whose husband could go out and buy her a
thirty-thousand-dollar toy.

There was the crash of rending wood. The sound chilled Gardner, froze
him so that the angry scream that followed was anticlimax. But it
brought movement back into his legs and he lunged toward the stairs. He
bellowed an order.

Too late. The robot was already descending. It carried the dead body of
Dolores in its steel arms. Her head hung limply on a horribly twisted
neck.

"She refused to come, Master," the robot said.