Я, Робот
Runaround
Heproceededonfoot,thegroundgrittyandslipperytohissteps,thelowgravitycausinghimdifficulty.Thesolesofhisfeettickledwithwarmth.Hecastoneglanceoverhisshoulderattheblacknessofthecliff’sshadowandrealizedthathehadcometoofartoreturn–eitherbyhimselforbythehelpofhisantiquerobot.ItwasSpeedyornothingnow,andtheknowledgeofthatconstrictedhischest.
Farenough!Hestopped.
"Speedy,"hecalled."Speedy!"
Thesleek,modernrobotaheadofhimhesitatedandhaltedhisbackwardsteps,thenresumedthem.
Powelltriedtoputanoteofpleadingintohisvoice,andfounditdidn’ttakemuchacting."Speedy,I’vegottogetbacktotheshadoworthesun’llgetme.It’slifeordeath,Speedy.Ineedyou."
Speedytookonestepforwardandstopped.Hespoke,butatthesoundPowellgroaned,foritwas,"Whenyou’relyingawakewithadismalheadacheandreposeistabooed-"Ittrailedoffthere,andPowelltooktimeoutforsomereasontomurmur,"Iolanthe."
Itwasroastinghot!Hecaughtamovementoutofthecornerofhiseye,andwhirleddizzily;thenstaredinutterastonishment,forthemonstrousrobotonwhichhehadriddenwasmoving–movingtowardhim,andwithoutarider.
Hewastalking:"Pardon,Master.ImustnotmovewithoutaMasteruponme,butyouareindanger."
Ofcourse,Rule1potentialaboveeverything.Buthedidn’twantthatclumsyantique;hewantedSpeedy.
