Страница 25 из 52
The smile on the other's face broadened, "Now, what's the use of that? You're getting nowhere. I'm holding the trumps. I know you've resigned. Herbie told me, and he got it straight from you."
La
Bogert shrugged, "To see Herbie? Good! Damned good!"
It was also precisely at noon that Milton Ashe looked up from his clumsy sketch and said, "You get the idea? I'm not too good at getting this down, but that's about how it looks. It's a honey of a house, and I can get it for next to nothing."
Susan Calvin gazed across at him with melting eyes. "It's really beautiful," she sighed. "I've often thought that I'd like to-" Her voice trailed away.
"Of course," Ashe continued briskly, putting away his pencil, "I've got to wait for my vacation. It's only two weeks off, but this Herbie business has evervthing up in the air." His eyes dropped to his fingernails, "Besides, there's another point – but it's a secret."
"Then don't tell me."
"Oh, I'd just as soon, I'm just busting to tell someone – and you're just about the best -er- confidante I could find here." He gri
Susan Calvin's heart bounded, but she did not trust herself to speak.
"Frankly," Ashe scraped his chair closer and lowered his voice into a confidential whisper, "the house isn't to be only for myself. I'm getting married!"
And then he jumped out of his seat, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing!" The horrible spi
"Why, sure! About time, isn't it? You remember that girl who was here last summer. That's she! But you are sick. You-"
"Headache!" Susan Calvin motioned him away weakly. "I've… I've been subject to them lately. I want to… to congratulate you, of course. I'm very glad-" The inexpertly applied rouge made a pair of nasty red splotches upon her chalk-white face. Things had begun spi
The words were a mumble, as she stumbled blindly out the door. It had happened with the sudden catastrophe of a dream – and with all the unreal horror of a dream.
But how could it be? Herbie had said-
And Herbie knew! He could see into minds!
She found herself leaning breathlessly against the door jamb, staring into Herbie's metal face. She must have climbed the two flights of stairs, but she had no memory of it. The distance had been covered in an instant, as in a dream.
As in a dream!
And still Herbie's unblinking eyes stared into hers and their dull red seemed to expand into dimly shining nightmarish globes.
He was speaking, and she felt the cold glass pressing against her lips. She swallowed and shuddered into a pertain awareness of her surroundings.
Still Herbie spoke, and there was agitation in his voice – as if he were hurt and frightened and pleading.
The words were begi
Susan Calvin nodded, her voice a whisper, "Yes! Yes!" She was clutching Herbie's arm, clinging to it, repeating over and over, "It isn't true, is it? It isn't, is it?"
Just how she came to her senses, she never knew – but it was like passing from a world of misty unreality to one of harsh sunlight. She pushed him away from her, pushed hard against that steely arm, and her eyes were wide.
"What are you trying to do?" Her voice rose to a harsh scream. "What are you trying to do?"
Herbie backed away, "I want to help"
The psychologist stared, "Help? By telling me this is a dream? By trying to push me into schizophrenia?" A hysterical tenseness seized her, "This is no dream! I wish it were!"
She drew her breath sharply, "Wait! Why… why, I understand. Merciful Heavens, it's so obvious."
There was horror in the robot's voice, "I had to!"
"And I believed youl I never thought-"
Loud voices outside the door brought her to a halt. She turned away, fists clenching spasmodically, and when Bogert and La
They approached Herbie simultaneously; La
"Here now, Herbie. Listen to me!"
The robot brought his eyes sharply down upon the aged director, "Yes, Dr. La
"Have you discussed me with Dr. Bogert?"
"No, sir." The answer came slowly, and the smile on Bogert's face flashed off.
"What's that?" Bogert shoved in ahead of his superior and straddled the ground before the robot. "Repeat what you told me yesterday."
"I said that " Herbie fell silent. Deep within him his metallic diaphragm vibrated in soft discords.
"Didn't you say he had resigned?" roared Bogert. "Answer me!"
Bogert raised his arm frantically, but La
"You heard him, La
"I'll ask him!" La
Herbie stared, and La
The two men looked at each other and the hostility in their eyes was all but tangible.
"What the devil," blurted Bogert, "has the robot gone mute? Can't you speak, you monstrosity?"
"I can speak," came the ready answer.
"Then answer the question. Didn't you tell me La
And again there was nothing but dull silence, until from the end of the room, Susan Calvin's laugh rang out suddenly, high-pitched and semi-hysterical.
The two mathematicians jumped, and Bogerts eyes narrowed, "You here? What's so fu
"Nothing's fu
This time the look that passed between the two men was one of raised eyebrows. "What trap are you talking about?" asked Lansing stiffly. "Is something wrong with Herbie?"
"No," she approached them slowly, "nothing is wrong with him – only with us." She whirled suddenly and shrieked at the robot, "Get away from me! Go to the other end of the room and don't let me look at you."
Herbie cringed before the fury of her eyes and stumbled away in a clattering trot.
La
She faced them and spoke sarcastically, "Surely you know the fundamental First Law of Robotics."
The other two nodded together. "Certainly," said Bogert, Irritably, "a robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow him to come to harm"
"How nicely put," sneered Calvin. "But what kind of harm?"
"Why – any kind."
"Exactly! Any kind! But what about hurt feelings? What about deflation of one's ego? What about the blasting of one's hopes? Is that injury?"
La
"You've caught on, have you? This robot reads minds. Do you suppose it doesn't know everything about mental injury? Do you suppose that if asked a question, it wouldn't give exactly that answer that one wants to hear? Wouldn't any other answer hurt us, and wouldn't Herbie know that?"