Я, Робот
Reason
Mullerlookedathim,"TheboysbackattheU.S.Robotsnavedreamedupanewone,bytheway.Amultiplerobot."
"Awhat?"
"WhatIsaid.There’sabigcontractforit.Itmustbejustthethingforasteroidmining.Youhaveamasterrobotwithsixsub-robotsunderit.-Likeyourfingers."
"Hasitbeenfield-tested?"askedPowellanxiously.
Mullersmiled,"Waitingforyou,Ihear."
Powell’sfistballed,"Damnit,weneedavacation."
"Oh,you’llgetit.Twoweeks,Ithink."
Hewasdonningtheheavyspaceglovesinpreparationforhistermofdutyhere,andhisthickeyebrowsdrewclosetogether."Howisthisnewrobotgettingalong?Itbetterbegood,orI’llbedamnedifIletittouchthecontrols."
Powellpausedbeforeanswering.HiseyesswepttheproudPrussianbeforehimfromtheclose-croppedhaironthesternlystubbornhead,tothefeetstandingstifflyatattention–andtherewasasuddenglowofpuregladnesssurgingthroughhim.
"Therobotisprettygood,"hesaidslowly."Idon’tthinkyou’llhavetobothermuchwiththecontrols."
Hegrinned–andwentintotheship.Mullerwouldbehereforseveralweeks.
