THE INVENTORY list was long. On its many pages in his small andprecise script he had listed furniture paintings china silverware andall the rest of it - all the personal belongings that had been accumulatedby the Barringtons through a long family history. And now that he had reached the end of it he noted down himself thelast item of them all: One domestic robot Richard Daniel antiquated but in good repair. He laid the pen aside and shuffled all the inventory sheets togetherand stacked them in good order putting a paper weight upon them - thelittle exquisitely carved ivory paper weight that aunt Hortense had pickedup that last visit she had made to Peking. And having done that his job came to an end. He shoved back the chair and rose from the desk and slowly walkedacross the living room with all its clutter of possessions from thefamilys past. There above the mantel hung the sword that ancient Jonathonhad worn in the War Between the States and below it on the mantelpieceitself the cup the Commodore had won with his valiant yacht and the jar ofmoon-dust that Tony had brought back from Mans fifth landing on the Moonand the old chronometer that had come from the long-scrapped familyspacecraft that had plied the asteroids. And all around the room almost cheek by jowl hung the familyportraits with the old dead faces staring out into the world that they hadhelped to fashion. And not a one of them from the last six hundred years thought RichardDaniel staring at them one by one that he had not known. There to the right of the fireplace old Rufus Andrew Barrington whohad been a judge some two hundred years ago. And to the right of RufusJohnson Joseph Barrington who had headed up that old lost dream of mankindthe Bureau of Paranormal Research. There beyond the door that