"For eight years."
"Is that the information, the data, that makes Snook.u.ms so priceless, aside from his nucleonics work?"
She smiled a little then. "Oh no. Of course not, silly. He"s been fed data on everything--physics, subphysics, chemistry, mathematics--all kinds of things. Most of the major research laboratories on Earth have problems of one kind or another that Snook.u.ms has been working on. He hasn"t been given the problem _I_ was working on at all; it would bias him." Then the tears came back. "And now it doesn"t matter. He"s insane.
He"s lying."
"What"s he saying?"
"He insists that he"s never broken the First Law, that he has never hurt a human being. And he insists that he has followed the orders of human beings, according to the Second Law."
"May I talk to him?" Mike asked.
She shook her head. "Fitz is running him through an a.n.a.lysis. He even made me leave." Then she looked at his face more closely. "You don"t just want to confront him and call him a liar, do you? No--that"s not like you. You know he"s just a machine--better than I do, I guess....
What is it, Mike?"
_No_, he thought, looking at her, _she still thinks he"s human.
Otherwise, she"d know that a computer can"t lie--not in the human sense of the word._
_Most people, if told that a man had said one thing, and that a computer had given a different answer, would rely on the computer._
"What is it, Mike?" she repeated.
"Lew Mellon," he said very quietly, "is dead."
The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin stark against the bright red of her hair. For a moment he thought she was going to faint.
Then a little of the color came back.
"Snook.u.ms." Her voice was whispery.
He shook his head. "No. Apparently he tried to jump Vaneski and got hit with a stun beam. It shouldn"t have killed him--but apparently it did."
"G.o.d, G.o.d, G.o.d," she said softly. "Here I"ve been crying about a d.a.m.ned machine, and poor Lew has been lying up there dead." She buried her face in her hands, and her voice was m.u.f.fled when she spoke again. "And I"m all cried out, Mike. I can"t cry any more."
Before Mike could make up his mind whether to say anything or not, the door of Snook.u.ms" room opened and Dr. Fitzhugh came out, closing the door behind him. There was an odd, stricken look on his face. He looked at Leda and then at Mike, but the expression on his face showed that he really hadn"t seen them clearly.
"Did you ever wonder if a robot had a soul, Mike?" he asked in a wondering tone.
"No," Mike admitted.
Leda took her hands from her face and looked at him. Her expression was a bright blank stare.
"He won"t answer my questions," Fitzhugh said in a hushed tone. "I can"t complete the a.n.a.lysis."
"What"s that got to do with his soul?" Mike asked.
"He won"t answer my questions," Fitzhugh repeated, looking earnestly at Mike. "He says G.o.d won"t allow him to."
18
Captain Sir Henry Quill opened the door of the late Lieutenant Mellon"s quarters and went in, followed by Mike the Angel. The dead man"s gear had to be packed away so that it could be given to his nearest of kin when the officers and crew of the _Brainchild_ returned to Earth.
Regulations provided that two officers must inventory his personal effects and those belonging to the s.p.a.ce Service.
"Does Chief Pasteur know what killed him yet, Captain?" Mike asked.
Quill shook his head. "No. He wants my permission to perform an autopsy."
"Are you going to let him?"
"I think not. We"ll put the body in the freezer and have the autopsy performed on Earth." He looked around the room, seeing it for the first time.
"If you don"t," said Mike, "you"ve got three suspected killers on your hands."
Quill was unperturbed. "Don"t be ridiculous, Golden Wings."
"I"m not," Mike said. "I hit him in the pit of his stomach. Chief Pasteur filled him full of sedative. Mister Vaneski shot him with a stun beam. He died. Which one of us did it?"
"Probably no single one of them, but a combination of all three," said Captain Quill. "Each action was performed in the line of duty and without malice aforethought--without even intent to harm permanently, much less to kill. There will have to be a court-martial, of course--or, at the very least, a board of inquiry will be appointed. But I am certain you"ll all come through any such inquiry scatheless." He picked up a book from Mellon"s desk. "Let"s get about our business, Mister Gabriel. Mark down: Bible, one."
Mike put it down on the list.
"_International Encyclopedia_, English edition. Thirty volumes and index."
Mike put it down.
"_The Oxford-Webster Dictionary of the English Language_--
"_Hallbert"s Dictionary of Medical Terms_--
"_The Canterbury Theological Dictionary_--
"_The Christian Religion and Symbolic Logic_, by Bishop K. F. Costin--
"_The Handbook of s.p.a.ce Medicine_--"
As Captain Quill called out the names of the books and put them into the packing case he"d brought, Mike marked them down--while something began ticking in the back of his mind.
"Item," said Captain Quill, "one crucifix." He paused. "Beautifully carved, too." He put it into the packing case.
"Excuse me, Captain," said Mike suddenly. "Let me take a look at something, will you?" Excitedly, he leaned over and took some of the books out, looking at the pages of each one.
"I"ll be d.a.m.ned," he said after a moment. "Or I _should_ be--for being such a stupid idiot!"
Captain Quill narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about, Mister Gabriel?"
"I"m not sure yet, Captain," Mike hedged. "May I borrow these three books?" He held them up in his hands.