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

unemotional entity, it will make more sense."



"Spare me your smug superiority," I shot back. "You’re not here because PapaBaroni looked at Mama
Baroni with logic in his heart."



TheBaroni burbled again. "You are hopeless," he said at last.



We had one of themechs bring us our lunch,then sat with our backs propped against opposite sides of a
gnarled old tree while we ate. I didn’t want to watch his snakelike lunch writhe and wriggle, protesting
every inch of the way, as he sucked it down like the long, living piece of spaghetti it was, and he had his
usual moral qualms, which I never understood, about watching me bite into a sandwich. We had just
about finished whenMech Three approached us.



"All problems have been fixed," it announced brightly.



"That was fast," I said.



"There was nothing broken." It then launched into a three-minute explanation of whatever it had done to
the robot’s circuitry.
"That’s enough," I said when it got down to a dissertation on the effect ofmu -mesons on negative
magnetic fields in regard to prismatic eyes. "I’m wildly impressed. Now let’s go take a look at this
beauty."



I got to my feet, as did theBaroni , and we walked back to the concrete pad. The robot’s limbs were
straight now, and his arm was restored, but he still lay motionless on the crumbling surface.



"I thought you said you fixed him."



"I did," repliedMech Three. "But my programming compelled me not to activate it until you were
present."