The Positronic Man

"But the corporation has maintained its expertise in the area of making androids, has it not?" Andrew asked.

Smythe-Robertson shrugged. "I suppose we still could make them if we saw any sense to it, yes."

"You choose not to, though," said Paul. "You've got the technology but you simply decline to exercise it. That's not quite the same thing as what you told us before, that it would be impossible to manufacture an android body for Andrew."

"It would be possible, yes-technically. But completely against public policy."

"Why? There isn't any law that I know of against making androids."

"Nevertheless," Smythe-Robertson said, "we don't manufacture them and we don't intend to. Therefore we are unable to provide the android body that Andrew Martin has requested. And I suggest to you that this conversation has reached a point of no return. If you'll excuse me, therefore-" And he half rose from his seat.

"Just a little time longer, if you please," said Paul in an easy tone that had something more forceful just beneath its surface. He cleared his throat. Smythe-Robertson subsided, looking even more displeased than he had. Paul went on, "Mr. Smythe-Robertson, Andrew is a free robot who falls under the protection of the laws that govern robot rights. You are aware of this, of course."

"Only too well."

"This robot, as a free robot, freely chooses to wear clothes. This has resulted in his being frequently humiliated by thoughtless human beings, despite the law that supposedly protects robots against such humiliation. It's quite difficult, you realize, to prosecute vague offenses that don't meet with the general disapproval of those whose responsibility it is to decide between guilt and i

"I'm not at all surprised to hear that," said Smythe-Robertson restlessly. "U. S. Robots understood that from the start. Your father's law firm unfortunately did not."

"My father is dead now," said Paul. "But what I see is that we have here a clear offense with a clear target, and we stand ready to take the appropriate action."

"What are you talking about?"

"My client, Andrew Martin-he has been the client of my firm for many years-is a free robot, by decree of the World Court. That is to say, Andrew is his own owner, and in him, therefore, are vested the legal rights that any human robot owner has in regard to robots in his possession. One of those rights is that of replacement. As you yourself pointed out some time ago during this discussion, the owner of any robot is entitled to ask U. S. Robots and Mechanical Men Corporation for a replacement when his robot reaches the point of obsolescence. In fact, the corporation insists on offering such replacements, and where leased robots are involved will call them in automatically. I've stated your policy correctly, is that not so?"

"Well-yes."

"Good." Paul was smiling and thoroughly at his ease. He continued, "Now, the positronic brain of my client is the owner of the body of my client-and that body, obviously, is far more than twenty-five years old. By your own definition that body is obsolete and my client is entitled to a replacement."

"Well-" Smythe-Robertson said again, reddening. His gaunt, almost fleshless face looked like a mask, now.

"The positronic brain which is my actual client demands the replacement of the robot body in which it is housed, and has offered to pay any reasonable fee for that replacement."

"Then let him sign up in the ordinary way and we'll give him his updating!"

"He wants more than an updating. He wants the finest replacement body within your technical capacity, by which he means an android body."

"He can't have one."

"By refusing," Paul said smoothly, "you condemn him to continued humiliation at the hands of those who, recognizing him as a robot, treat him with contempt because he prefers to wear clothes and otherwise behave in traditionally 'human' fashion."

"That's not our problem," said Smythe-Robertson.

"It becomes your problem when we sue you for refusing to provide my client with a body that would allow him to avoid much of the humiliation he now encounters."

"Go ahead and sue, then. Do you think anybody's going to give a damn about a robot who wants to look human? People will be outraged. He'll be denounced everywhere for the arrogant upstart that he is."

"I'm not so sure," Paul said. " Agreed, public opinion wouldn't ordinarily support the claim of a robot in a lawsuit of that kind. But may I remind you that U. S. Robots is not very popular with the general public, Mr. Smythe-Robertson? Even those who most use robots to their own benefit and profit are suspicious of you. This may be a hangover from the days of anti-robot paranoia: I suspect that's a good part of it. Or it may be resentment against the immense power and wealth of your company, which has so successfully managed to defend its worldwide monopoly on robot manufacture through a long and clever series of patent maneuvers. Whatever the cause may be, the resentment may exist. If there's any entity that would be even less popular in such a lawsuit than the robot who wants to look like a human being, it would be the corporation that has filled the world with robots in the first place."

Smythe-Robertson glared. The clenched muscles of his face stood out clearly. He said nothing.

Paul went on, "In addition, think about what people would say when they find out you're capable of manufacturing human-looking robots? The lawsuit would very definitely focus a great deal of attention on that very point. Whereas if you quietly and simply provided my client with what he requests-"

Smythe-Robertson seemed about to explode. "This is coercion, Mr. Charney."

"On the contrary. We're simply trying to show you where your own best interests lie. A quick and peaceful resolution is all that we're looking for. Of course, if you compel us to seek legal redress in the courts, that's a different matter. And then, I think, you will find yourself in an awkward and disagreeable position, particularly since my client is quite wealthy and will live for many centuries to come and will have no reason to refrain from fighting this battle forever."

"We're not without resources ourselves, Mr. Charney."

"I'm aware of that. But can you withstand an endless legal siege that will expose the deepest secrets of your company? -I put it to you one last time, Mr. Smythe-Robertson. If you prefer to reject my client's quite reasonable request, you may by all means do so and we'll leave here without another word being spoken. But we will sue, as is certainly our right, and we will sue most strenuously and publicly, which is bound to create immense difficulties for u. S. Robots, and you will find that you will eventually lose. Are you willing to take that risk?"

"Well-" Smythe-Robertson said, and paused.

"Good. I see that you're going to accede," said Paul. "You may still be hesitating now, but you're going to come around in the end. A very wise decision, may I add. But that leads to a further important point."

Smythe-Robertson's fury seemed to be fading into sullen glumness. He did not try to speak.

Paul continued, "Let me assure you that if, in the process of transferring my client's positronic brain from his present body to the organic one that you ultimately will agree to create for him, there is any damage, however slight, then I will never rest until I have nailed this corporation to the ground."

"You can't expect us to guarantee-"

"I can and I will. You've had a hundred-odd years of experience in transferring positronic brains from one robot body to another. You can surely use the same techniques in transferring one safely to an android body. And I warn you of this: if one brain-path of my client's platinum-iridium essence happens to get scrambled in the course of the work, you can be quite certain that I'll take every possible step to mobilize public opinion against this corporation-that I will expose it before all the world for the criminally vindictive operation that it has plainly revealed itself to be."

Smythe-Robertson said, shifting about miserably in his seat, "There's no way we can provide you with a total waiver of liability. There are risks in any sort of transfer."

"Low-probability ones. You don't lose a lot of positronic brains while you move them from one body to another. We're willing to accept risks of that sort. It's the possibility of deliberate and malevolent action against my client that I'm warning you against."

"We wouldn't be so stupid," said Smythe-Robertson. " Assuming we go through with this, and I haven't yet said we would, we'd exert our utmost skills. That's the way we've always worked and the way we intend to continue. You've backed me into a corner, Charney, but you've still got to realize that we can't give you a 100% assurance of success. 99%, yes. Not 100."

"Good enough. But remember: we'll throw everything we have at you if we have reason to suspect any sort of intentional harm to our client." Paul turned to Andrew and said, "What do you say, Andrew? Is this acceptable to you?"

Andrew hesitated for nearly a full minute, caught in an equilibrium of First Law potentials. What Paul wanted from him amounted to the approval of lying, of blackmail, of the badgering and humiliation of a human being.

But at least no physical harm was involved, he told himself. No physical harm.

And he managed at last to come out with a barely audible "Yes."