"_Why?_"
"Man either produces the needs of his body or he dies," he explained
with growing irritability. The conversation was progressing further and
further out of hand. "In your case, it's fuel and repairs. Without them
you would terminate."
"_But we have those here, father. Why should we work for you or the
girl?_"
That was it--the ultimate question which he had foreseen and which
he could neither avoid nor answer. It was impossible to explain the
complicated social system in which man, the disinherited, exchanged
his labor for a small percentage of the articles he produced. But the
robots were self sufficient.
He said with growing desperation, "Either you return at once to work,
or I'll terminate you."
"_How, father?_"
How indeed? Hen fumed inwardly, said with sudden inspiration, "We'll
radio for help. There are machines capable of blasting the lot of you
into your component atoms."
"_But the radio station is here in the laboratory_," R-7 pointed out.
There was a faint hesitation, then the robot added, "_We will terminate
you instead._" The instrument clicked off.
* * * * *
Hen gulped, realized in dismay that it hadn't occurred to the robots to
destroy them until he had planted it in their minds.
"You are the bright lad," drawled Sofi. "What do you propose
now--Brain?"
He turned his black eyes on her, regarded her without seeing her. His
glance strayed beyond the girl to the lab.
"What the devil are they doing now?" he cried suddenly.
Sofi spun around. Hen leaped past her to press his nose against the
clear plastic walls of their igloo. The robots, he saw, had one of
their number clamped on the work bench and were dismantling him.
"Damnation!" he said. "They must be trying to duplicate themselves. You
and your silly jokes about fathers."
"Me?"
"What do you think gave them the idea of reproduction? Their thinking
never rises above the level of deductive reasoning. They had to derive
the idea from an outside source."
"But--but can they do it?"
"Of course they can! It's an intricate job, but they only have to
copy themselves. The laboratory and machine shop is complete. They've
amassed a staggering knowledge of science."
"But why?" protested Sofi.
Hen shook his head. "It's beyond me. They should adjust readily to
whatever line of work they're applied to. They shouldn't evince
ambition. Ambition, by its nature, should be impossible to a machine.
But that's not the only organic trait they've been developing. It's
what Robots Incorporated was afraid might happen."
He snapped his fingers suddenly.
"The freighter! If we can sneak aboard the freighter, we can get to
Ceres and bring back an atom gun. If they're developing emotions we may
be able to overawe them. If not...." He hesitated, his mind drawing
back from framing the thought. The truth was that the robots were like
children, precocious children. He set his mouth grimly.
"If they don't respond to fear, we can destroy them."
Sofi looked across the darkened interval into the lighted lab where the
robots were busy dissecting their fellow and shivered.
"Industrious little monsters!"