 What is wrong with the citizens of Puerto Pacifico?
THE PERFECTIONISTS By ARNOLD CASTLE ILLUSTRATED by SUMMERS Is there something wrong with you? The series of events leading up to Pembroke's present occupation had commenced on a dismal, overcast evening in the South Pacific a year earlier. Standing on the forward deck, Pembroke was one of the first to perceive the peculiar odor and to spot the immense gray hulk wallowing in the murky distance. Then the explosion had come, from far below the waterline, and the decks were awash with frantic crewmen, officers, and the handful of passengers. Only two lifeboats were launched before the Elena Mia went down. Pembroke came as close to being a professional adventurer as one can in these days of regimented travel, organized peril, and political restriction. Loyalty to person or to people was a trait Pembroke had never recognized in himself, nor had it ever been expected of him. Lacking such loyalties, Pembroke adapted quickly to the situation in which he found himself when he regained consciousness. One in particular, an attractive woman of about thirty, tossed back her long, chestnut locks and gazed up intently at Pembroke as he passed. "You're not casual enough, for one thing," said Pembroke, deciding to play along with her for the moment. "Puerto Pacifico," she told him. It means peaceful port. But as he left the shop he began checking off every west coast state, city, town, and inlet. None, to the best of his knowledge, was called Puerto Pacifico. "Which way is it to San Francisco?" asked Pembroke.
 The citizens of Puerto Pacifico are androids, not humans.
 The citizens of Puerto Pacifico are aliens, not humans.  The citizens of Puerto Pacifico are newly-awakened AI beings, trying to blend in with humanity.  The citizens of Puerto Pacifico don't realize they are dead.  The citizens of Puerto Pacifico are androids, not humans.