"Mike Resnick - Robots Dont Cry" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

"A human configuration," noted theBaroni .



"Yeah, we still made ’emin our own image until a couple of hundred years ago."



"Impractical."



"Spare me your practicalities," I said. "Let’s dig him out."



"Why bother?"



Trust aBaroni to miss the obvious. "Because he’s got a memory cube," I answered. "Who the hell knows
what he’s seen? Maybe we’ll find out what happened here."



"Greenwillowhas been abandoned since long before you were born and I was hatched," replied the
Baroni , finally stringing some words together. "Who cares what happened?"



"I know it makes your head hurt, but try to use your brain," I said, grunting as I pulled at the robot’s
arm. It came off in my hands. "Maybe whoever he worked for hid some valuables." I dropped the arm
onto the floor. "Maybe he knows where. We don’t just have to sell junk, you know; there’s a market for
the good stuff too."



TheBaroni shrugged and began helping me uncover the robot. "I hear a lot of ifs and maybes," he
muttered.
"Fine," I said. "Just sit on what passes for your ass, and I’ll do it myself."



"And let you keep what we find without sharing it?" he demanded, suddenly throwing himself into the
task of moving the awkward feeders. After a moment he stopped and studied one. "Big cows," he noted.



"Maybe ten or twelve feet at the shoulder, judging from the size of the stalls and the height of the
feeders," I agreed. "But there weren’t enough to fill the barn. Some of those stalls were never used."