Robert J. Shea, of Rutgers University, makes an interesting contributionto robotics with this story of Rankin, who prided himself on knowinghow to handle robots, but did not realize that the robots of the ClearchanConfederacy were subject to a higher law than implicit obedience to man.
They had come to pass judgement on him. He had violatedtheir law—wilfully, ignorantly, and very deliberately.
"Our people will be arrivingto visit us today," the robotsaid.
"Shut up!" snapped RodRankin. He jumped, wiry andquick, out of the chair on hisverandah and stared at a cloudof dust in the distance.
"Our people—" the ten-foot,cylinder-bodied robot grated,when Rod Rankin interruptedhim.
"I don't care about yourfool people," said Rankin. Hesquinted at the cloud of dustgetting bigger and closer beyondthe wall of kesh treesthat surrounded the rollingacres of his plantation. "Thatdamned new neighbor of mineis coming over here again."
He gestured widely, takingin the dozens of robots withtheir shiny, cylindrical bodiesand pipestem arms and legslaboring in his fields. "Get allyour people together and gohide in the wood, fast."
"It is not right," said therobot. "We were made to serveall."
"Well, there are only a hundredof you, and I'm not sharingyou with anybody," saidRankin.
"It is not right," the robotrepeated.
"Don't talk to me aboutwhat's right," said Rankin."You're built to follow orders,nothing else. I know a thingor two about how you robotswork. You've got one law, tofollow orders, and until thatneighbor of mine sees you togive you orders, you work forme. Now get into those woodsand hide till he goes away."
"We will go to greet thosewho visit us today," said therobot.
"Alright, alright, scram,"said Rankin.
The robots in the fields andthe one whom Rankin hadbeen talking to formed a columnand marched off into thetrackless forests behind hisplantation.
A battered old ground-cardrove up a few minutes later.A tall, broad-shouldered manwith a deep tan got out andwalked up the path to Rankin'sverandah.
"Hi, Barrows," said Rankin.
"Hello," said Barrows. "Seeyour crop's coming along prettywell. Can't figure how youdo it. You've got acres andacres to tend, far's I can see,and I'm having a hell of atime with one little piece ofground. I swear you mustknow something about thisplanet that I don't know."
"Just scientific farming,"said Rankin carelessly. "Look,you come over here for something,or just to gab? I gota lot of work to do."
Barrows looked weary andworried. "Them brown beetlesis at my crop again," he said."Thought you might knowsome way of getting rid ofthem."
"Sure," said Rankin. "Pickthem off, one by one. That'show I get rid of them."
"Why, man," said Barrows,"you can't walk all over thesemiles and miles of farm andpick off every one of thembeetles. You must know anotherway."
Rankin drew himself up andstared at Barrows. "I'm tellingyou all I feel like tellingyou. You going to stand hereand jaw all day? Seems to melike you got work to do."
"Rankin," said Barrows, "Iknow you were a crook backin the Terran Empire, andthat you came out beyond theborder to escape the law.Seems to me, though, thateven a crook, any man, wouldbe willing to help his onlyneighbor out on a lone planetlike this. You might need helpyourself, sometime."
"You keep your thoughtsabout my past to yourself,"said Rankin. "Remember, Ikeep a gun