“I don’t think he can comprehend the Three Laws, though. I mean, he understands the words well enough, but I think the idea that robots simply can ’ t hurt humans is just too alien a concept for him. Maybe it’s too alien for any Erani. ” Derec stole a sidelong glance at his terminal, and quickly spun back to Avery to squeeze one last thought in.

“So here’s an idea: If we ever find out where the Erani home world is, what do you say we drop a half-dozen Robot Cities on it? That ought to drive those ugly clowns just absolutely crazy…

Avery didn’t have time to respond. The two data terminals chimed simultaneously, then blanked and displayed the final results of the yacc.

Both Avery and Derec immediately switched into zombie programmer mode.

“Any lint?”

“No, it’s clean. ”

“Okay, let’s grep gen_shape. ”

“Grepping. ”

“A053?”

“15. ”

“A0C0?”

“AF. ”

“Very good. Nice it. ”

“Niced with a tee. ”

“Thanks, I forgot about that. Iostat?”

. Derec paused a moment to page through several screens of data. “Clean, green, and five by five. I think it worked. ”

“Okay, let’s finish it. Nohup. ”

“Nohupped. ”

“Chown gen-shape. ”

“Chowned. ”

Avery leaned back in his chair and crossed his fingers. “Here goes. I am putting ixform to sleep. Any floating children?”

. Derec scrutinized his screen. “No-no, we’re clear. No children floating in the pipe. ”

Avery suddenly realized that he’d been holding his breath. “Well! I think we’ve got it. Do you want to put it to the test?”

. Derec smiled and waved an open hand at his father. “You, sir, may have the honor. ”

“Okay. ” Avery pushed his chair back from the terminal, tented his fingers, and frowned. Then he cleared his throat, raised his eyes to the ceiling, and said in a loud, clear voice: “Gosh, Derec, I think I need to use the Personal. ” Both of them locked their stares on Avery’s chair.

Nothing happened. No softening around the edges; no reconfiguration of the seatpad. For over a minute they both held their breaths, waiting to see if the chair was going to reconfigure itself.

It remained a chair.

“Yahoo!”. Derec raised his fists in a victorious gesture, and Avery cracked into a broad, beaming smile. “Dad, we did it! We’ve cut out the autonomic shape-changing!”

Avery allowed himself another smile and then sobered. “We’re halfway there, Derec. We made the changes we wanted. Now let’s make sure that we haven’t done any other

damage in the process. ” He turned away from Derec, looked up at the ceiling, and loudly said, “Ship, make this chair two inches higher. ”

Smoothly and silently, as if it were a robobarber’s chair, the seat rose two inches. Avery looked at Derec with a tight smile on his face and a merry twinkle in his eye. “Son, we’ve cut out the autonomic routines, but we’ve kept the voluntary control intact. Now that is what I call a success. ” He hesitated a moment and then impulsively stuck out a hand to Derec.

For a moment, Avery felt terribly uncertain and insecure. Derec was looking at the hand as if he expected to find a joybuzzer. Then he switched to looking Avery straight in the eye, with an unreadable expression on his face.

And then he smiled, reached over, and shook his father’s hand. “Congratulations, Dad. ”

“Thanks, son. ”

The moment passed. They broke off the handshake, both looking a little sheepish about their undisciplined display of raw emotion, and went back to their respective terminal displays.

“You know,” Derec said at last, “I’m beginning to feel that I really understand this polymorphism business. ”

“That’s just what I was thinking,” Avery agreed.

“I mean, look at that pipe. It’s totally tubular. ”

“Totally. ”

The two of them studied their displays a while longer, and then Derec spoke up. “You know, as long as we’re on such a good roll, we really should find something else to work on. ”

“I quite agree. ”

“Got any ideas?”

A wicked smile appeared on Avery’s face. He tried to suppress it, but it could not be denied, so he turned it on Derec. “Where did you say Lucius II was?”

. Derec was aghast. “Dad! You promised you’d leave those robots-” Then he realized that Avery was teasing him and broke into a laugh. Avery joined him.

“I think maybe we’ve done enough for now,” Avery said when they’d stopped laughing.

“I think maybe you’re right. ” Derec yawned, rubbed his eyes, and gave the robotics lab one more once-over. “What do you say we catch some shut-eye?”

“An excellent idea. ” Avery looked up at the ceiling and raised his voice again. “Ship, convert these chairs into bunks, and then dim the lights. ” Smoothly and silently, the chairs flowed into their new shapes.

. Derec didn’t even get out of his chair. He simply kicked off his shoes, loosened his tunic buttons, and stretched out full-length on the bunk. “G’night, Dad,” he mumbled. The lights in the cabin dimmed down, and within a few minutes Derec’s breathing had shifted into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Dr. Avery watched his son until even the phosphorescent glow of the terminal displays had faded to pitch blackness. Then he kicked off his own shoes, removed his lab coat, and stretched out on his bunk.

“Nighty-night, Davey,” he whispered.

A cool spring morning in Robot City. The black limousine rolled swiftly through the empty streets, nearly silent save for the soft thrumming of its electric motor and the gentle hiss of rubberoid tires on pavement. Inside the vehicle, Janet Anastasi sat in the passenger compartment, her nose buried in a sheaf of fax pages, while Basalom sat in the chauffeur’s compartment, jacked into the vehicle’s master control panel, driving.

One of the advantages of being a robot with telesensory feeds was that Basalom could rotate his head 180 degrees and still keep an eye on the road. Confident that the vehicle was safely under control, Basalom swiveled around to look at Dr. Anastasi. He allocated every third nanosecond to introspection.

She certainly seems happier now that she ’ s stopped sleeping in the lander and has taken an apartment in the city.Briefly switching to thermographic vision, he felt a small glow of satisfaction in the part of his brain that Dr. Anastasi had taken to calling his “mother hen” circuit. Dr. Anastasi’s heat contours were a calm, relaxed study in blues and greens. There were no indicators of unpredictable endocrine activity, no hints of dangerous blood pressure or cardiac rate changes. And it ’ s been 52 hours since her last emotional outburst, Basalom noted with some pride. Yes, she ’ s definitely happier now that she ’ s adapting to the city.

Sure, mac,the limousine interjected, give the lady all the credit. Why don ’ cha ever notice how the city is adapting to her?

Will you kindly keep out of my private thoughts?Basalom asked, not for the first time.

Can ’ t help it, Mac,the car answered. You go around jacking your main data bus into other folk ’ s sensory feeds, your thought stream ’ s gonna become a party line.

Still, you could have the decency to pretend that you aren ’ t listening.

Yeah, I could,the car said. And on the other tire, if it bugs you that much, you could go back to letting me drive. After all, I am Personal Vehicle One.

You are a pile of steel and plastic with the simulated personality of a twentieth-century Chicago cabbie,Basalom corrected archly, and I will no longer tolerate your verbal abuse of Dr. Anastasi.