“Yes, Sir.”
“The design, too?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“From what did you copy the design?”
“It is a geometric representation, Sir, that fits the grain of the wood.”
The next day, Sir brought him another piece of wood-a larger one-and an electric vibro-knife. “Make something out of this, Andrew. Anything you want to,” he said.
Andrew did so as Sir watched, then looked at the product a long time. After that, Andrew no longer waited on tables. He was ordered to read books on furniture design instead, and he learned to make cabinets and desks.
“These are amazing productions, Andrew,” Sir soon told him.
“I enjoy doing them, Sir,” Andrew admitted.
`Enjoy?”
“It makes the circuits of my brain somehow flow more easily. I have heard you use the word `enjoy’ and the way you use it fits the way I feel. I enjoy doing them, Sir.”
3
Gerald Martin took Andrew to the regional offices of the United States Robots and Mechanical Men Corporation. As a member of the Regional Legislature he y had no trouble at all in gaining an interview with the chief robopsychologist. In fact, it was only as a member of the Regional Legislature that he qualified as a 7 robot owner in the first place-in those early days when robots were rare.
Andrew did not understand any of this at the time. But in later years, with greater learning, he could review that early scene and understand it in its proper light.
The robopsychologist, Merton Mansky, listened with a growing frown and more than once managed to stop his fingers at the point beyond which they would have irrevocably drummed on the table. He had drawn features and a lined forehead, but he might actually have been younger than he looked.
“Robotics is not an exact art, Mr. Martin,” Mansky . explained. “I cannot explain it to you in detail, but the mathematics governing the plotting of the positronic pathways is far too complicated to permit of any but approximate solutions. Naturally, since we build everything around the Three Laws, those are incontrovertible. We will, of course, replace your robot–2′
“Not at all,” said Sir. “There is no question of failure , on his part. He performs his assigned duties perfectly. The point is he also carves wood in exquisite fashion and never the same twice. He produces works of art.”, Mansky looked confused. “Strange. Of course, we’re attempting generalized pathways these days. Really creative, you think?”
“See for yourself.” Sir handed over a little sphere >> 7 of wood on which there was a playground scene in which the boys and girls were almost too small to make out, yet they were in perfect proportion and they blended so naturally with the grain that it, too, seemed to have been carved.
Mansky was incredulous. “He did that?” He handed it back with a shake of his head. “The luck of the draw. Something in the pathways.”
“Can you do it again?”
“Probably not. Nothing like this has ever been reported.”
“Good! I don’t in the least mind Andrew’s being the only one.”
“I suspect that the company would like to have your robot back for study,” Mansky said.
“Not a chance!” Sir said with sudden grimness. “Forget it.” He turned to Andrew, “Let’s go home, now.”
4
Miss was dating boys and wasn’t about the house much. It was Little Miss, not as little as she once was, who filled Andrew’s horizon now. She never forgot that the very first piece of wood carving he had done had been for her. She kept it on a silver chain about her neck.
It was she who first objected to Sir’s habit of giving away Andrew’s work. “Come on, Dad, if anyone wants one of them, let him pay for it. It’s worth it.”
“It isn’t like you to be greedy, Mandy.”
“Not for us, Dad. For the artist.”
Andrew had never heard the word before, and when he had a moment to himself he looked it up in the dictionary.
Then there was another trip, this time to Sir’s lawyer.
“What do you think of this, John?” Sir asked.
The lawyer was John Finegold. He had white hair and a pudgy belly, and the rims of his contact lenses were tinted a bright green. He looked at the small