Я, Робот
Reason
"Look,"clamoredDonovan,suddenly,writhingoutfromunderCutie’sfriendly,butmetal-heavyarm,"let’sgettothenubofthething.Whythebeamsatall?We’regivingyouagood,logicalexplanation.Canyoudobetter?"
"Thebeams,"wasthestiffreply,"areputoutbytheMasterforhisownpurposes.Therearesomethings"–heraisedhiseyesdevoutlyupward"thatarenottobeprobedintobyus.Inthismatter,Iseekonlytoserveandnottoquestion."
Powellsatdownslowlyandburiedhisfaceinshakinghands."Getoutofhere,Cutie.Getoutandletmethink."
"I’llsendyoufood,"saidCutieagreeably.
Agroanwastheonlyanswerandtherobotleft.
"Greg,"wasDonovan’shuskilywhisperedobservation,"thiscallsforstrategy.We’vegottogethimwhenheisn’texpectingitandshortcircuithim.Concentratednitricacidinhisjoints-"
"Don’tbeadope,Mike.Doyousupposehe’sgoingtoletusgetnearhimwithacidinourhands?We’vegottotalktohim,Itellyou.We’vegottoarguehimintolettingusbackintothecontrolroominsideofforty-eighthoursorourgooseisbroiledtoacrisp."
Herockedbackandforthinanagonyofimpotence."Whotheheckwantstoarguewitharobot?It’s...it’s-"
"Mortifying,"finishedDonovan.
"Worse!"
