They began as manufacturers of electronic mood organs and player pianos. Then they improved the line - they started building exact simulacra of famous men. They thought that people would pay a good price have anyone they wanted made to order - to talk with, befriend, and eventually utilize for any purpose they wanted. But they ran into trouble. For one thing an exactly programmed reconstruction of a famous man is going to be obstinate and as character-complex ass the real man was - and nobody's puppet. For another, they got involved with a project for settling the moon with their creations. And finally they got tangled up with their own personal identities. It's a Philip K. Dick masterpiece of 1981, future thinking, complex plotting, and typically "different" - as is to be expected from the Hugo-winning author of The Man in the High Castle, Eye in the Skye, and Solar Lottery.
