Umam Preth was preparing a deadly concoction of three parts jaffiger and two parts sillin when the robot slammed through the window. “Hey, Professor,” the Vee3 said in greeting. Its manipulator field rolled it upright. He watched the spilled jaffiger slip through the cracks of the plas-mesh floor. Without the jaffiger, sillin was only mildly noxious. It lapped innocently against the sides of the last martini glass in the universe.

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