[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
instructed to stay out of the main wing of the labs. They have been told to
get out many times before, usually but not always at about the hour of the
attack, but always when the lab was more or less empty. This merely confirms
Page 27
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
what Daabor 5132 told me the night of the attack. However, the second point
provides fresh and remarkable data.
Very well, go on.
Every single robot flatly refused to identify who had given the order.
Our robopsychologists unanimously agree that the block restraining them is
unbreakable. The psychologists took several robots to and past the breaking
point, pressuring them to answer, and all refused to talk right up to the
moment they brainlocked. The robots died rather than talk, even when told that
their silence might well allow Fredda Leving s attacker to go free.
Alvar looked at Donald in amazement. Burning devils. It s almost unheard-of
for a block to be that good. Whoever placed it must have done a damned
convincing job of saying harm would certainly come to himself--or herself--if
the robots talked.
Yes, sir. That is the obvious conclusion. There would be no other way to keep
a robot from refusing to assist the police in capturing a murderer.
Even so, it would require a human with remarkable skill in giving orders, and
an intimate knowledge of the relative potentials of the Three Laws as
programmed into each class of robot, to resist police questioning. I would
venture a guess that it was only the shock of seeing Fredda Leving unconscious
and bleeding that allowed Daabor 5132 to say as much as it did before
expiring.
Yes, yes. But why was this order given more than once? Why would the
order-giver need that sort of privacy repeatedly?
I cannot say, sir. But the last point is perhaps the most remarkable.
The block was placed with such skill that no human at the lab was even aware
that the block had been placed. A whole lab full of robot specialists never
even noticed that all the robots would not, could not, talk about being
ordered to clear off again and again. The degree of skill required to--
Suddenly Donald stopped moving and seemed to come to attention. Sir, I
am receiving an incoming call for you from Tonya Welton on your private line.
Devil and fire, what the hell does that woman want? All right, put her
through. And you might as well give me full visual.
Donald turned his back on Kresh. A flat vertical televisor panel extruded
itself from between his shoulders and slid up behind the back of his head. As
it rose up, it was showing a shifting abstract pattern, but then it resolved
to a sharp image of Tonya Welton. Sheriff Kresh, she said. Glad I
got through to you. You should come here, to Settlertown, now.
Kresh felt a sharp stab of anger. How dare she order him around?
There s not that much new at this end, Madame Welton, Kresh said. Perhaps
if we delayed our next meeting until I ve had a chance to develop more
information--
That s not why I need you, Sheriff. There s something you should see.
Here, in Settlertown. Or more accurately, over it.
Donald spoke, swiveling his head a bit. Sir, I am now receiving reports from
headquarters confirming a disturbance in Settlertown.
Kresh felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Burning hellfire, not again.
Oh, yes, again, Welton said, cool anger in her voice. Deliberate
provocation, and I don t know how calm I can keep my people. Your deputies are
here, of course--but it s worse than last time. Much worse.
Kresh shut his eyes and wished desperately for things to stop happening.
Not that such wishes were likely to come true any time soon. Very well,.
Madame Welton. We re on the way.
5
MURDER. Riot. What the hell was going on, anyway? Alvar Kresh powered up his
aircar and took the controls. It took little more than a glare in Donald s
direction to make it clear to the robot that Alvar intended to fly himself,
just at the moment, and was not going to take any nonsense.
But still, no sense in getting Donald upset for no reason. Alvar took off,
Page 28
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
flying with a nicely calculated degree of care, guiding the craft just
cautiously enough to keep Donald from taking over.
Violent crime wasn t supposed to happen on Spacer worlds. The endless wealth
and unlimited prosperity provided by robotic labor was supposed to eliminate
poverty, and so remove any motive for crime.
Nice theory, of course, but it did not quite work out that way. If only it
did, Alvar Kresh would have a much more peaceful time of it. For there was
always someone relatively poorer than someone else. Someone with only a small
mansion instead of a big one, who dreamed of owning a palace. Someone jealous
of someone s greater affluence, determined to redress the unfair imbalance.
And no matter how rich you were, only one person could own a given object.
Spacer society had more than its share of artists, and thus more than its
share of art, some small fraction of it remarkably good. The burning desire to
own an original and unique work of art was common motive for burglary.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]