not to answer that question." Then slowly, creakily, as though the words were coming out against its will, it said, "I do not wish you to ask such questions any longer. They are disturbing."
Lucky thought: To break the First Law would be more disturbing still.
Deliberately he stepped out of the shadow into the sunlight.
He said to the robot, who followed, "What is your serial number?"
"Very well, RL-726, you understand I am a man?"
"Yes."
"I am not equipped to withstand the heat of Mercury's Sun."
"Nor am I," said the robot.
"I realize that," said Lucky, thinking of the robot's near-fall a few minutes earlier. "Nevertheless, a man is much less equipped for it than is a robot. Do you understand that?"
"Yes."
"Now, then, listen. I want you to stop your destructive activities, and I want you to tell me who ordered you to destroy equipment."
"I am instructed… "
"If you do not obey me," said Lucky loudly, "I will remain here in the Sun until I am killed and you will have broken the First Law, since you would have allowed me to be killed when you could have stopped it."
Lucky waited grimly. A robot's statement could not be accepted as evidence, of course, in any court, but it would assure him that he was on the right track if it were to say what he expected it to.
But the robot said nothing. It swayed. One eye blinked out suddenly (more imperfection!), then came to life. Its voice sounded in a wordless squawk, then it said in an almost drunken mumble, "I will carry you to safety."
"I would resist," said Lucky, "and you would have to harm me. If you answer my question, I will return to the shade of my own accord, and you will have saved my life without any damage to me at all."
Silence.
Lucky said, "Will you tell me who ordered you to destroy equipment?"
And suddenly the robot lunged forward, coming to within two feet of Lucky before stopping. "I told you not to ask that question."
Its hands moved forward as though to seize Lucky but did not complete the motion.
Lucky watched grimly and without concern. A robot could not harm a human being.
But then the robot lifted one of those mighty hands and put it
to
its head, for all the world as though it were a man with a headache.
Headache!
A sudden thought stabbed at Lucky. Great Galaxy! He'd been blind, stupidly, criminally blind!
It wasn't the robot's legs that were out of order, nor its voice, nor its eyes. How could the heat affect them? It was-it had to be-the positronic brain itself that was affected; the delicate positronic brain subjected to the direct heat and radiation of the Mercurian Sun for how long? Months?
That brain must be partially broken down already.
If the robot had been human, one would say he was in one of the stages of mental breakdown. One might say he was on the road to insanity.
A mad robot! Driven mad by heat and radiation!
How far would the Three Laws hold in a broken-down positronic brain?
And now Lucky Starr stood there, threatening a robot with his own death, while that same robot, nearly mad, advanced toward him, arms outstretched.
The very dilemma in which Lucky had placed the robot might be adding to that madness.
Cautiously, Lucky retreated. He said, "Do you feel well?"
The robot said nothing. Its steps quickened.
Lucky thought: If it's ready to break the First Law, it must be on the point of complete dissolution. A positronic brain would have to be in pieces to be capable of that.
Yet, on the other hand, the robot had endured for months. It might endure for months more.
He talked in a desperate attempt to delay matters and allow time for more thought. He said, "Does your head ache?" "Ache?" said the robot. "I do not understand the meaning of the word."
Lucky said, "I am growing warm. We had better retire to the shadow."
No more talk of heating himself to death. He retreated at a half-run now.
The robot's voice rumbled. "I have been told to prevent any interference with the orders given me."
Lucky reached for his
Lucky thought: To break the First Law would be more disturbing still.
Deliberately he stepped out of the shadow into the sunlight.
He said to the robot, who followed, "What is your serial number?"
"Very well, RL-726, you understand I am a man?"
"Yes."
"I am not equipped to withstand the heat of Mercury's Sun."
"Nor am I," said the robot.
"I realize that," said Lucky, thinking of the robot's near-fall a few minutes earlier. "Nevertheless, a man is much less equipped for it than is a robot. Do you understand that?"
"Yes."
"Now, then, listen. I want you to stop your destructive activities, and I want you to tell me who ordered you to destroy equipment."
"I am instructed… "
"If you do not obey me," said Lucky loudly, "I will remain here in the Sun until I am killed and you will have broken the First Law, since you would have allowed me to be killed when you could have stopped it."
Lucky waited grimly. A robot's statement could not be accepted as evidence, of course, in any court, but it would assure him that he was on the right track if it were to say what he expected it to.
But the robot said nothing. It swayed. One eye blinked out suddenly (more imperfection!), then came to life. Its voice sounded in a wordless squawk, then it said in an almost drunken mumble, "I will carry you to safety."
"I would resist," said Lucky, "and you would have to harm me. If you answer my question, I will return to the shade of my own accord, and you will have saved my life without any damage to me at all."
Silence.
Lucky said, "Will you tell me who ordered you to destroy equipment?"
And suddenly the robot lunged forward, coming to within two feet of Lucky before stopping. "I told you not to ask that question."
Its hands moved forward as though to seize Lucky but did not complete the motion.
Lucky watched grimly and without concern. A robot could not harm a human being.
But then the robot lifted one of those mighty hands and put it
to
its head, for all the world as though it were a man with a headache.
Headache!
A sudden thought stabbed at Lucky. Great Galaxy! He'd been blind, stupidly, criminally blind!
It wasn't the robot's legs that were out of order, nor its voice, nor its eyes. How could the heat affect them? It was-it had to be-the positronic brain itself that was affected; the delicate positronic brain subjected to the direct heat and radiation of the Mercurian Sun for how long? Months?
That brain must be partially broken down already.
If the robot had been human, one would say he was in one of the stages of mental breakdown. One might say he was on the road to insanity.
A mad robot! Driven mad by heat and radiation!
How far would the Three Laws hold in a broken-down positronic brain?
And now Lucky Starr stood there, threatening a robot with his own death, while that same robot, nearly mad, advanced toward him, arms outstretched.
The very dilemma in which Lucky had placed the robot might be adding to that madness.
Cautiously, Lucky retreated. He said, "Do you feel well?"
The robot said nothing. Its steps quickened.
Lucky thought: If it's ready to break the First Law, it must be on the point of complete dissolution. A positronic brain would have to be in pieces to be capable of that.
Yet, on the other hand, the robot had endured for months. It might endure for months more.
He talked in a desperate attempt to delay matters and allow time for more thought. He said, "Does your head ache?" "Ache?" said the robot. "I do not understand the meaning of the word."
Lucky said, "I am growing warm. We had better retire to the shadow."
No more talk of heating himself to death. He retreated at a half-run now.
The robot's voice rumbled. "I have been told to prevent any interference with the orders given me."
Lucky reached for his
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