Я, Робот
Runaround
"Look,"saidDonovan."Thisisallveryeducational,butwouldyoumindchangingthesubject?Itsohappensthatthisconversionofenergythatyoutalkaboutiscarriedonbythephoto-cellbanksmainly–andthatisatendersubjectwithmeatthemoment."
Powellgruntedvaguely,andwhenDonovanbroketheresultingsilence,itwastochangethesubjectcompletely."Listen,Greg.Whatthedevil’swrongwithSpeedy,anyway?Ican’tunderstandit."
It’snoteasytoshrugshouldersinaninsosuit,butPowelltriedit."Idon’tknow,Mike.Youknowhe’sperfectlyadaptedtoaMercurianenvironment.Heatdoesn’tmeananythingtohimandhe’sbuiltforthelightgravityandthebrokenground.He’sfoolproof-or,atleast,heshouldbe."
Silencefell.Thistime,silencethatlasted.
"Master,"saidtherobot,"wearehere."
"Eh?"Powellsnappedoutofasemidrowse."Well,getusoutofhere–outtothesurface."
Theyfoundthemselvesinatinysubstation,empty,airless,ruined.Donovanhadinspectedajaggedholeintheupperreachesofoneofthewallsbythelightofhispocketflash.
"Meteorite,doyousuppose?"hehadasked.
Powellshrugged."Tohellwiththat.Itdoesn’tmatter.Let’sgetout."
Atoweringcliffofablack,basalticrockcutoffthesunlight,andthedeepnightshadowofanairlessworldsurroundedthem.
