The nightwatchman was… a man. He sometimes thought about how odd that was. When he met his friends in the pub or the cafe after a shift he looked at his friends and thought of their jobs. One was a driver , one a gardener, I’ve a childminder: all to the rich who wanted “the human touch”. The nightwatchman worked for a rich human of course but he never saw her. He just saw the robots. Every night he walked around the building checking, occasionally making adjustments. He didn’t know why she’d wanted a human watchman. He’d ask her one day.