Я, Робот

           Powellcrawledbackwardattumblingspeed.

           "Mike!"

           Donovanpausedintheactoffollowing."What’swrongnow?"

           "Holdon!"Powell’sbreathingwasroughandirregularinDonovan’sears."Mike!Doyouhearme,Mike?"

           "I’mrighthere.Whatisit?"

           "We’reblockedin.Itwasn’ttheceilingcomingdownfiftyfeetawaythatknockedusover.Itwasourownceiling.Theshock’stumbledit!"

           "What!"Donovanscrambledupagainstahardbarrier."Turnontheflash."

           Powelldidso.Atnopointwasthereroomforarabbittosqueezethrough.

           Donovansaidsoftly,"Well,whatdoyouknow?"

           Theywastedafewmomentsandsomemuscularpowerinanefforttomovetheblockingbarrier.Powellvariedthisbywrenchingattheedgesoftheoriginalhole.Foramoment,Powellliftedhisblaster.Butinthoseclosequarters,aflashwouldbesuicideandheknewit.Hesatdown.

           "Youknow,Mike,"hesaid,"we’vereallymessedthisup.Wearenonearerfindingoutwhat’swrongwithDave.Itwasagoodideabutitblewupinourface."

           Donovan’sglancewasbitterwithanintensitytotallywastedonthedarkness,"Ihatetodisturbyou,oldman,butquiteapartfromwhatweknowordon’tknowofDave,we’reslightlytrapped.Ifwedon’tgetloose,fella,we’regoingtodie.D-I-E,die.Howmuchoxygenhaveweanyway?Notmorethansixhours."

           "I’vethoughtofthat."Powell’sfingerswentuptohislong-sufferingmustacheandclangeduselesslyagainstthetransparentvisor.