Liar!

           AlfredLanninglithiscigarcarefully,butthetipsofhisfingersweretremblingslightly.Hisgrayeyebrowshunchedlowashespokebetweenpuffs.

           "Itreadsmindsallright-damnlittledoubtaboutthat!Butwhy?"HelookedatMathematicianPeterBogert,"Well?"

           Bogertflattenedhisblackhairdownwithbothhands,"Thatwasthethirty-fourthRBmodelwe’veturnedout,Lanning.Alltheotherswerestrictlyorthodox."

           Thethirdmanatthetablefrowned.MiltonAshewastheyoungestofficerofU.S.Robotamp;MechanicalMen,Inc.,andproudofhispost.

           "Listen,Bogert.Therewasn’tahitchintheassemblyfromstarttofinish.Iguaranteethat."

           Bogert’sthicklipsspreadinapatronizingsmile,"Doyou?Ifyoucananswerfortheentireassemblyline,Irecommendyourpromotion.Byexactcount,thereareseventy-fivethousand,twohundredandthirtyfouroperationsnecessaryforthemanufactureofasinglepositronicbrain,eachseparateoperationdependingforsuccessfulcompletionuponanynumberoffactors,fromfivetoahundredandfive.Ifanyoneofthemgoesseriouslywrong,the`brain’isruined.Iquoteourowninformationfolder,Ashe."

           MiltonAsheflushed,butafourthvoicecutoffhisreply.

           "Ifwe’regoingtostartbytryingtofixtheblameononeanother,I’mleaving."SusanCalvin’shandswerefoldedtightlyinherlap,andthelittlelinesaboutherthin,palelipsdeepened,"We’vegotamind-readingrobotonourhandsanditstrikesmeasratherimportantthatwefindoutjustwhyitreadsminds.