never use my arm again.” He stood up, angry and annoyed, moving his arm around to work out the stiffness. “Where have you been?”
“I had a commercial transaction to complete—and I took several hours to study the rather peculiar ways of the human species.”
“Did it ever occur to you that you might be considered pretty peculiar yourself?”
“That would depend upon the standard of comparison, Mr. Robinson.”
Jerry stopped rubbing his arm and stared at Questor. Why did the android have to be so damn logical all the time? But, of course, he was programmed to be just that. More and more often, Jerry was overlooking the fact that Questor was a machine. Still, he said things Jerry could not afford to overlook. “Questor, you said something about commercial transactions?”
“Yes. I invested some of our casino winnings in the stock market.”
Jerry sat down abruptly, his knees weak. “The stock market?”
“Yes. A rather fascinating enterprise I would like to study further. However, for our purposes, only a brief review of its general principles was necessary.”
“I see. How much . . .” Jerry paused, afraid to go further, but he had to. “How much did you invest?”
“All of it, except for the taxi fare I paid to get to the stock exchange.”
“How much did you lose?”
“Ah, Mr. Robinson, you have so little faith in your creation. The profit came to over three hundred thousand pounds, most of which I have reinvested for our future use.” He brought out the two packets of pound notes and held them out to Jerry. “We will have need of this fifty thousand pounds for expenses. I believe you should handle it.”
Jerry took the money cautiously, as if afraid it would dissolve in his hands. When it did not, he tucked it away in his breast pocket. “You know something, Questor . . . I wish I had created you instead of merely following the blueprints.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re, well, you’re a fine piece of work.”
Questor nodded. “I am gratified you agree I am functioning well. It is difficult for me to know at times.”
“Me, too, Questor.” He sighed a little and stretched. “What’s next?”
“I believe a trip to the country is in order.”
The home office undersecretary was waiting in a chauffeured limousine when the sleek private jet landed at Heathrow. As soon as the plane rolled to a halt, the chauffeur guided the limousine up to the set of stairs being wheeled into place by airport technicians. A pair of London police vehicles followed the official car.
Darro stepped out of the plane, followed by members of his staff. He paused at the top of the stairs and looked down, frowning deeply at the undersecretary and his assistant, two police supervisors, and several uniformed policemen who were converging on the plane. He didn’t like the idea of the government and the police getting into this. The more people who knew the real facts, the greater chance of the truth getting out and causing a panic. He braced himself and moved down the steps.
“Mr. Darro?” said the undersecretary. When Darro nodded, the official held out his hand. “Culwait, home office undersecretary. May we talk privately a moment?”
Darro bobbed his head in the briefest of nods. Culwait led him several yards away from the others and lowered his voice as he spoke. “I’m instructed to inform you the government will cooperate fully on one condition—that there must, under no circumstances, ever be a mention of the word ‘robot.’ ”
Darro smiled coldly. Remarkable how certain minds seem to run in the same patterns. “I understand. The risk of what it might do is far less important than the risk of bringing down the party in power.”
Culwait drew himself up in annoyance, and his voice grew ponderous with dignity. “Our concern happens to be for public safety, Darro. We are simply nervous over the possible panic—”
“—which the word ‘robot’ would create among the labor
“I had a commercial transaction to complete—and I took several hours to study the rather peculiar ways of the human species.”
“Did it ever occur to you that you might be considered pretty peculiar yourself?”
“That would depend upon the standard of comparison, Mr. Robinson.”
Jerry stopped rubbing his arm and stared at Questor. Why did the android have to be so damn logical all the time? But, of course, he was programmed to be just that. More and more often, Jerry was overlooking the fact that Questor was a machine. Still, he said things Jerry could not afford to overlook. “Questor, you said something about commercial transactions?”
“Yes. I invested some of our casino winnings in the stock market.”
Jerry sat down abruptly, his knees weak. “The stock market?”
“Yes. A rather fascinating enterprise I would like to study further. However, for our purposes, only a brief review of its general principles was necessary.”
“I see. How much . . .” Jerry paused, afraid to go further, but he had to. “How much did you invest?”
“All of it, except for the taxi fare I paid to get to the stock exchange.”
“How much did you lose?”
“Ah, Mr. Robinson, you have so little faith in your creation. The profit came to over three hundred thousand pounds, most of which I have reinvested for our future use.” He brought out the two packets of pound notes and held them out to Jerry. “We will have need of this fifty thousand pounds for expenses. I believe you should handle it.”
Jerry took the money cautiously, as if afraid it would dissolve in his hands. When it did not, he tucked it away in his breast pocket. “You know something, Questor . . . I wish I had created you instead of merely following the blueprints.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re, well, you’re a fine piece of work.”
Questor nodded. “I am gratified you agree I am functioning well. It is difficult for me to know at times.”
“Me, too, Questor.” He sighed a little and stretched. “What’s next?”
“I believe a trip to the country is in order.”
The home office undersecretary was waiting in a chauffeured limousine when the sleek private jet landed at Heathrow. As soon as the plane rolled to a halt, the chauffeur guided the limousine up to the set of stairs being wheeled into place by airport technicians. A pair of London police vehicles followed the official car.
Darro stepped out of the plane, followed by members of his staff. He paused at the top of the stairs and looked down, frowning deeply at the undersecretary and his assistant, two police supervisors, and several uniformed policemen who were converging on the plane. He didn’t like the idea of the government and the police getting into this. The more people who knew the real facts, the greater chance of the truth getting out and causing a panic. He braced himself and moved down the steps.
“Mr. Darro?” said the undersecretary. When Darro nodded, the official held out his hand. “Culwait, home office undersecretary. May we talk privately a moment?”
Darro bobbed his head in the briefest of nods. Culwait led him several yards away from the others and lowered his voice as he spoke. “I’m instructed to inform you the government will cooperate fully on one condition—that there must, under no circumstances, ever be a mention of the word ‘robot.’ ”
Darro smiled coldly. Remarkable how certain minds seem to run in the same patterns. “I understand. The risk of what it might do is far less important than the risk of bringing down the party in power.”
Culwait drew himself up in annoyance, and his voice grew ponderous with dignity. “Our concern happens to be for public safety, Darro. We are simply nervous over the possible panic—”
“—which the word ‘robot’ would create among the labor
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