Я, Робот
Reason
Powellsighedwearily."That’swhereeverythingfallsdown.Postulatesarebasedonassumptionandadheredtobyfaith.NothingintheUniversecanshakethem.I’mgoingtobed."
"Oh,hell!Ican’tsleep!"
"Neithercan1!ButImightaswelltry–asamatterofprinciple."
Twelvehourslater,sleepwasstilljustthat-amatterofprinciple,unattainableinpractice.
Thestormhadarrivedaheadofschedule,andDonovan’sfloridfacedrainedofbloodashepointedashakingfinger.Powell,stubble-jawedanddry-lipped,staredouttheportandpulleddesperatelyathismustache.
Underothercircumstances,itmighthavebeenabeautifulsight.Thestreamofhigh-speedelectronsimpingingupontheenergybeamfluorescedintoultra-spiculesofintenselight.Thebeamstretchedoutintoshrinkingnothingness,a-glitterwithdancing,shiningmotes.
Theshaftofenergywassteady,butthetwoEarthmenknewthevalueofnaked-eyedappearances.Deviationsinarcofahundredthofamillisecond-invisibletotheeye-wereenoughtosendthebeamwildlyoutoffocus–enoughtoblasthundredsofsquaremilesofEarthintoincandescentruin.
Andarobot,unconcernedwithbeam,focus,orEarth,oranythingbuthisMasterwasatthecontrols.
Hourspassed.TheEarthmenwatchedinhypnotizedsilence.Andthenthedartingdotletsoflightdimmedandwentout.Thestormhadended.
Powell’svoicewasflat."It’sover!"
