a crouched position, and also with the monkey of

a crouched position, and also with the monkey of one of the first missions who was discredited for having “tampered”, or better “monkeyed,” with the controls.

I was able to start the car and get safely out of the garage. Then strange things began to happen. I noticed a shadow in the rear window. The trunk cover had risen. Evidently I had touched a release button. I stopped the car, and with relief, closed the door by hand. Next a panel in the roof opened, I thought, mysteriously. I thought that it may have been in response to the full moon which had just broken out of the early evening clouds.

Again I stopped the car and found a control which closed the panel. Being careful not to touch or even come close to any button or level, I eventually reached my home parking place. I turned off the motor switch. Almost immediately a voice came on telling me that.

“The key is in the switch”. I looked into the back seat to see whether or not I had a passenger. There was no one. Again the voice told me I had left the key in the switch. I removed it immediately, only to have the same voice tell me that I had left my lights on. I turned them off, and somewhat unnerved, locked and left the car for the night.

I wondered what other messages, warnings, advisory notices, possibly commands the car might give me. Would it say “Pull over to the curb”?

Could there be hidden somewhere in this electronic gear a kamikaze warning not to pull up, or possibly even a directive to worship the emperor? It was too much.

I returned the car to the sales-room the next morning and fled, fearing that it might cry out after me, calling me “timid”, possibly even “cowardly.” I am going to look at a Chevrolet in the hope that I can regain the confidence of man’s mastery over the machine that I had when I owned and drove the. 1935 model.