on his back. For a moment he lay still, struggling to shake off the effects of his fall, before starting slowly to rise.
"No," the tall one said. "Just stay down there. And don't make a sound." To the other he said, "I bet you we could take him apart and put him back together again. You ever take a robot apart?"
"No. you?"
"Never. But I always wanted to."
"You think he'll let us?"
"How can he stop us?"
Indeed there was no way at all that Andrew was able to stop them, if they ordered him not to resist in a forceful enough manner. The Second Law-obedience to humans-would always take precedence over the Third Law of self-preservation. In any case, it was impossible for him to defend himself against them without running the risk of hurting them, and that would mean breaking the First Law. At that thought every motile unit in him contracted slightly and Andrew began to quiver as he lay stretched full length on the ground.
The tall one walked over and shoved at him with the tip of his boot.
"He's heavy. And I think we're going to need tools to do the job."
Bulbous-nose said, "What if we can't put him back the right way again afterward?"
"What of it?"
"Then we've wasted a perfectly good robot that we could have used for all sorts of other things. I think what we ought to do is order him to take himself apart. He's got to know the right way of doing it. It would be fun to watch him try, anyhow. And then we can assemble him again."
"Right," said the tall one thoughtfully. "But let's get him off the road. If someone happens to come along-"
It was too late. Someone had indeed come along and it was George. From where he lay, Andrew could see him topping a small rise in the middle distance. He would have liked to signal for help. But the last order he had received was, "Don't make a sound," and he was bound by that until countermanded by its giver or some other human being.
George was looking this way, though. And now he was breaking into a trot. In another few moments he was there, somewhat winded, standing at Andrew's side looking down at him in dismay.
The two young men stepped back a little and waited, frowning, glancing uncertainly at each other.
George said anxiously, "Andrew, has anything gone wrong with you?"
Andrew said, "I am quite well, George."
"Why are you lying on the ground like that, then? Can't you get up?"
"I would have no difficulty in doing that, if you wished me to," Andrew said.
"Then do it! Don't just lie there!"
Andrew arose, gratefully, when he heard the order.
George said, " And why are your clothes scattered around all over the place? How come you're not wearing them? What's been going on here?"
The tall young man said, "That your robot, Mac?"
George turned sharply. "He's no one's robot. Have you two been playing games with him?"
"Well, we thought it was pretty weird that a robot would be wearing clothes. So we politely asked him to take them off. What's that to you if you don't own him?"
George said, "Were they trying to harm you, Andrew?"
Andrew said, "It was their intention in some way to dismember me. They were about to move me to a quiet spot and require me to dismember myself."
George looked at the two young men. He was attempting to appear fearless and bold even though he was outnumbered, but Andrew saw his chin tremble.
"Is this true?" George asked them sternly.
The two had evidently also noticed George's obvious discomfort, though, and plainly they had begun to decide that he represented no serious threat to them. George was no longer a young man. His children were grown, now, old enough so that his son Paul had joined the family law firm. George's russet hair had turned gray and his cheeks-without their flaring side-whiskers, now-were the soft pink cheeks of a sedentary man. He was hardly likely to put up much of a fight, no matter how fierce his manner might seem. As the two took note of that, their manner changed, becoming less wary and more confident.
The tall one said lightly, with a smirk on his face, "We wanted to see how he'd go about it, yes. Especially how he was going to manage things toward the end, when he only had one arm still attached."