by H. B. Fyfe
hastily. "I am merely holding itopen."
"Do you intend to use it?"
"I haven't decided."
"I shall carry you out back," the robot decided for him.
"No, you don't!" exclaimed Robert, leaping backward.
The door immediately began to swing shut as he passed through.
Cursing, he lunged forward. The robot reached for him.
This time, Robert missed his grip. Before he could duck away, hiswrist was trapped in a metal grasp.
_The door will close_, he despaired. _They'll be too late._
Then, suddenly, he felt the portal drawn back and heard Blue Twospeak.
"What does Robert wish?"
"Throw this heap out the door!" gasped Robert.
Amid a trampling of many feet, the major-domo was raised bodily byBlue Two and another pair of Robert's machines and hustled outside.Since the grip on Robert's wrist was not relaxed, he involuntarilyaccompanied the rush of metal bodies.
"Catch the door!" he called to Blue Two.
When the latter sprang to obey, the other two took the action as asignal to drop their burden. The pink-and-blue robot landed fulllength with a jingling crash. Robert was free.
With the robots, he made for the entrance. Hearing footsteps behindhim as the major-domo regained its feet, he slipped hastily inside.
"Pick up that toolbox!" he snapped. "When that robot stops in thedoorway, knock its head off!"
Turning, he held up a finger.
"Do not use the front door!"
The major-domo hesitated.
The heavy toolbox in the grip of Blue Two descended with a thud. Thepink-and-blue robot landed on the ground a yard or two outside thedoor as if dropped from the second floor. It bounced once, emitted afew sparks and pungent wisps of smoke, lay still.
"Never mind, that's good enough," said Robert as Blue Two steppedforward. "One of the others can drag it off to the repair shop. Havethe toolbox brought with us."
"What does Robert wish now?" inquired Blue Two, trailing the mantoward the stairway.
"I'm going upstairs," said Robert. "And I intend to be prepared if anymore doors are closed against me!"
He started up, the measured treads of his own robots soundingreassuringly behind him....
* * * * *
It was about a week later that Robert sat relaxed in the armchairbefore his own telescreen, facing Henry's wizened visage.
The elder man clucked sympathetically as he re-examined the scratcheson Robert's face and the bruise under his right eye.
"And so you left there in the morning?"
"I certainly did!" declared Robert. "We registered a marriage recordat the city library by television, of course, but I don't care if Inever see her again. She needn't even tell me about the child, if any.I simply can't stand that girl!"
"Now, now," Henry said.
"I mean it! Absolutely no consideration for my wishes. Everything inthe house was run to suit her convenience."
"After all," Henry pointed out, "it _is_ her house."
Robert glared. "What has that to do with it? I don't think I was asunreasonable as she said in smashing that robot. The thing justwouldn't let me alone!"
"I guess," Henry suggested, "it was conditioned to obey Marcia-Joan,not you."
"Well, that shows you! Whose orders are to count, anyway? When I tella robot to do something, I expect it done. How would you like to findrobots trying to boss you around?"
"Are you talking about robots," asked Henry, "or the girl?"
"Same thing, isn't it? Or it would be if I'd decided to bring her homewith me."
"Conflict of desires," murmured Henry.
"Exactly! It's maddening to have a perfectly logical action interferedwith because there's another person present to insist--_insist_, mindyou--on having her way."
"And for twenty-odd years, you've had your own way in every tinything."
Somewhere in the back of Robert's lurked a feeling that Henry soundedslightly sarcastic.
"Well, why shouldn't I?" he demanded. "I noticed that in everydisagreement, my view was the right one."
"It was?"
"Of course it was! What did you mean by that tone?"
"Nothing...." Henry seemed lost in thought. "I was just wondering howmany 'right' views are left on this planet. There must be quite a few,all different, even if we have picked up only a few by television. Aninteresting facet of our peculiar culture--every individual omnipotentand omniscient, _within his own sphere_."
Robert regarded him with indignant incredulity.
"You don't seem to understand my point," he began again. "I told herwe ought to come to my house, where things are better arranged, andshe simply refused. Contradicted me! It was most--"
He broke off.
"The _impudence_ of him!" he exclaimed. "Signing off when _I_ wantedto talk!"
--H. B. FYFE
* * * * *