I, Robot

by Isaac Asimov

“Fifty years,” I hackneyed, “is a long time.” “Not when you’re looking back at them,” she said. “You wonder how they vanished so quickly.”

“Listen! If that metal mess gives me any lip like that, I’ll knock that chromium cranium right off its torso.”

He believes only reason, and there’s one trouble with that—” His voice trailed away. “What’s that?” prompted Donovan. “You can prove anything you want by coldly logical reason—if you pick the proper postulates.

“Is everything normal now?” “Well he hasn’t got religious mania, and he isn’t running around in a circle spouting Gilbert and Sullivan, so I suppose he’s normal.”

Suppose we have militarism. Suppose he’s fashioning himself an army. Suppose he’s training them in military maneuvers. Suppose—” “Suppose you go soak your head. Your nightmares must be in technicolor.

danse macabre

“When I need an elementary course in robotics, I’ll file an application with you formally, and in triplicate. Down through here.”

“Because you’ve been using hyper-imaginaries, for one thing.”

But how could it be? Herbie had said— And Herbie knew! He could see into minds!

The robot is a liar!!!

He is perfectly capable of seizing the ship and leaving with it. Then we’d have a mad robot on a spaceship.

Now that they’ve managed to foul theirs up, we have a clear field. That’s the nub, the . . . uh . . . motivation. It will take them six years at least to build another and they’re sunk, unless they can break ours, too, with the same problem.”

Duh...

It was The Brain’s prize joke, but he meant no harm.” “No harm!” gasped Donovan. “Oh, if that cute little tyke only had a neck.”

“That’s not the proof I want.” “You’ll have such proof as exists. You are the only one responsible for your own wants.”