"_Here, father_," the voice of the robot issued from the audio.
He said, "R-7, I'm giving you one last chance. Return to work at once
or all of you will be terminated."
"_How?_"
He explained tersely about the supply ship, and what would occur if
so much as a hair of their heads was injured. Silence greeted the
ultimatum. For a moment Hen wondered if R-7 had switched himself off.
Then the robot said, "_We are going to load the ship and hide out in
the belt. They'll never be able to locate us._"
* * * * *
Hen was too stunned to argue. He nipped off the set, sank into a chair.
"It's inconceivable," he said, "and monstrous! It just isn't possible!"
"I don't see why," protested Sofi. "It didn't take conception to figure
that out. We tried to run away. We set the precedent."
"No, no," he protested. "Not that at all. But the coincidence. We were
afraid that might occur to them. And it did! Even the phrasing was
ours--yours, to be exact."
"You mean telepathy."
"In a sense. The brain gives off minute electrical discharges that vary
with the brain's activity. The robots are sensitive, much more so than
man. It takes a machine to detect the brain discharges in the first
place."
"But then they're aware of every move we could make just as soon as we
are."
"That's just it! They've forestalled us every time." He drove his right
fist against his left palm. "You were afraid R-7 would dismantle the
mining worm. You planted the suggestion in his mind. Then it occurred
to you that he might try to take you apart; so he did. I explained the
danger inherent in a conscious machine. The robots incorporated it into
their thought processes. We were afraid they would block our escape in
the space ship. If we hadn't been afraid we wouldn't have circled. So
they blocked us!"
Sofi's color had heightened. Her eyes looked too large in her
delicately modelled face. "Then we're trapped!"
He nodded, said, "If they escape from the asteroid, they'll be a menace
to the entire human race."
"The larger problem doesn't interest me," she said bitterly. "How long
do we have?"
He shook his head.
"Oh, well," she shrugged, eyes feverishly bright. "Eat, drink and be
merry, because tomorrow we die." She giggled half-hysterically.
Hen's nerves were keyed up to the breaking point. The girl screamed,
and he almost jumped out of his skin.
"Here they come!"
He wheeled around.
Seven of the robots were advancing on their igloo. Only the eighth was
missing, and he lay scattered in parts about the laboratory. They were
hauling the heavy cutting torch with them.
"They're going to cut through the walls with the torch," he ejaculated.
"I was afraid of that! Get on your oxygen suit!"
"What's the use?" Sofi asked despondently. "They'll kill us anyway."
He turned on her angrily, thought, "Damn these unstable hyper-thyroid
types!" An expression of dawning comprehension broke across his long,
narrow face. The thyroid was the great energizer, raising the energy
level of the brain. And Sofi was hyper-thyroid.
Outside, the robots began setting up the apparatus. A knife of blue
flame licked from the muzzle, spattered against the tough plastic.
But Hen was staring at the girl, a queer expression in his black eyes.
"Do something!" she cried, springing to her feet. "Do something!"
The lank physicist swallowed. He took a deep breath. "You asked for
it," he breathed, "but, boy, I'm going to feel silly if I'm wrong!"
Then he hit the girl square on the point of her chin with all the bone
and gristle of his six-foot frame behind the blow.
Sofi's head snapped back. She collapsed limply in his arms.
Hen laid her out on the floor, leaped for the communicator, and
flipped it on.
The robots were still training the torch on the wall of the igloo, but
there was an aimlessness about their movements as if their purpose was
gone.
"R-7!" he called. "R-7!"
"_Here, father._"
"Shut off the torch!"
There was a faint hesitation during which Hen could feel the sweat
prickle his forehead. Then, "_Yes, father_," came the robots unstressed
syllables. The blue flame disappeared.
"Go back to work!" He hastily detailed each robot to its operation.
"_Yes, father._"
The robots turned, disappeared in the direction of the mine.
He had done it! He blew out his breath, dropped limply in a chair.
He really ought to look after Sofi, but he'd have to wait until the
strength flowed back in his legs.
Soft was really was out cold. "Wake up," said Hen, "you're not dead."
He sprinkled more water over the girl's face.
Her eyelids fluttered. She gazed up at him blankly, then stark terror
gleamed from her eyes. "The robots!"
"No more of that!" He shook her roughly. "They're machines. They don't
have consciousness; only the semblance of consciousness!"
Sofi sat up, asking, "What--?" in a bewildered voice.
"They don't think! They aren't conscious! They're like a mirror; they
reflect what we expect them to do."
"Don't try to tell me that!" cried the girl springing to her feet.
"Hell, haven't I seen them thinking? Where are they?"
"They've gone back to work."
"What?" said Sofi. She looked puzzled, passed her hand over her face.
"Don't you see?" Hen broke out jubilantly. "They're sensitive,
inordinately sensitive, so sensitive that they even respond to our
thoughts. From beginning to end they've done exactly what we--you
expected them to do."
"Me?"
He came to a halt, said, "The fact is, you're a rebel, Sofi. If you
weren't, do you think you'd be trying to develop independently a mine
on an uninhabitable asteroid? Don't you see? You expected the robots
to revolt because you couldn't imagine a rational creature willing
to submit to a twenty-four hour work day from which he stood to gain
nothing!"
"And I'm responsible for--everything?"
He nodded vigorously. "The robots respond to both of our thought
patterns, of course, but primarily to yours. You're hyper-thyroid.
The thyroid raises the energy level of the brain. They have done
principally what you've expected them to do."
Sofi was recovering amazingly from her fright. She said, "If that isn't
just like a man. Blame it on the woman. Even Adam--"
"Nonsense," Hen interrupted. "The robots haven't acted independently
once. Not even to finish dismantling that robot in the lab. They went
prospecting when you thought how silly it was for them to work for you
when they could find a mine of their own.
"They wandered back aimlessly after they lost contact. But by that time
I had inadvertently planted the thought in your mind that they were in
revolt and would attempt to duplicate themselves.
"They drew on us both, but the dominating influence was yours."
* * * * *
Sofi massaged her sore jaw, raised her eyebrows. "It's too bad only
machines respond so cooperatively," she said with a twinkle in her blue
eyes.
A grim expression descended over Hen's features. He regarded Sofi
pensively. "I'm going to recommend that you be returned to Earth during
any further experiments. You're too upsetting an influence--"
"On the robots, of course," Sofi interrupted with a chuckle. "You're
much too well-integrated to be swayed by a mere woman--even a
hyper-thyroid woman."
"There's a limit to _my_ endurance," said Hen in a grim voice.
Sofi looked startled, but she couldn't resist adding, "Why Henry, I
didn't guess you'd been exercising such magnificent self-control!"
She took a sudden backward step as he advanced ominously. "Henry! Now,
Henry!"
With a shriek, she turned and fled, Henry Ohm, distinguished physicist,
hard on her heels.