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“Gee, I never thought about that. I suppose the company will take care of him somehow. See you later.”

Hosato sat in thoughtful silence after she left. Finally he leaned forward and spoke into the desk-robot.

“Can you connect me with Harry Turner’s personal quarters?”

“I can function as an intercom system,” the robot responded.

“Then would you connect me, please?”

There was a silence; then James’s voice came out of the speaker. “Yes?”

“Hayama here, James.”

“Oh. Hayama. I won’t be able to take my lesson today—”

“I know, I just heard. What I wanted to say was that after all this is over, if you’re still interested, we can talk about your coming in with me as an apprentice.”

“Thanks, Hayama. I appreciate that.”

“One more thing, James. What was your father doing in his office last night?”

“It was the security-robot thing again. He was going to be looking at the first working prototypes.”

“But you have my every assurance that such a thing is impossible!” Suzi floated at Hosato’s heels as he paced up and down his apartment.

“Look, Suzi,” Hosato said grimly, “I was almost killed twice yesterday by robots. How do you explain that?”

There was a moment of silence before the robot replied. “The only possible explanation is equipment malfunction.”

“Twice. In the same area. Within fifteen minutes of each other?”

“The probability is admittedly low, but the possibility is still there,” Suzi insisted. “Do you recall your arguments with my creator to program me so that I could attack with a fencing foil. It was safe, you said, there could be no injury so the programming would be acceptable. Do you recall what he said?”

“He said he wouldn’t do it.”

“He said he couldn’t do it. Because you and I can converse like this, you keep forgetting one basic concept. Machines are dumb. That’s why the base 'no-kill' programs are ingrained so deeply. A machine can’t tell a blunted sword from a real one. If I were able to be programmed to fight with a mock weapon, you could then substitute a real weapon and I would kill with it. Our 'no-kill' programming therefore negates any such secondary programming.”

There was a knock at the door. “Please reconsider,” Suzi begged. “The repercussions of your chosen action could—”

“No, Suzi,” Hosato said and opened the door. “Well, Hayama,” Sasha said, sweeping briskly into the room. “What’s the big emergency?”

“Sit down, Sasha.” Hosato smiled. “This could take a while.”

“No it won’t,” the security chief said coldly. “My entire force has been disarmed, the whole complex has gone crazy with accusations and suspicions, and I was supposed to be in the president’s office five minutes ago. This won’t take long at all.”

“But this has to do with Turner’s death,” Hosato supplied.

“Fine. If you have information to give, then give it and let me get out of here.”

Hosato sighed. “Look, Sasha. Will it slow you up at all if I say everything you’ve suspected about me is true. That I’m a Ninja?”

Sasha stopped abruptly and studied Hosato with dark eyes. “Did you kill Turner?” she asked softly.

“No, but I think I know who did… or what did, to be specific.”

The security chief sank into a chair. “I’m listening,” she announced. “I must say you’ve got the knack for getting my undivided attention.”

“Before I get into my theory, there are a couple questions I want to ask you. As head of Security, any breach in an restricted area would be reported to you immediately, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Aside from Harry Turner’s death, were any other disturbances reported to you yesterday?”

“No.”

“Specifically, in the manufacturing areas?”

“No. Why. Have you heard something—?”

“Next,” Hosato interrupted, “is Turner’s product family introducing any new robots that you know of?”

“That’s a definite no.” Sasha grimmaced. “They haven’t come up with anything new in the last two years.”

“Turner controls the Household line, doesn’t he. Tell me, can you think of a household use for a rock slicer?”

Sasha frowned. “Not really. We use them in some of our construction robots, but slicers are too dangerous to be used around humans.”

“How about blasters?”

“Look, Hayama. Enough games. If you have something to say, say it.”

Hosato sighed and took the plunge.

“Okay. My name isn’t Hayama, jt’s Hosato. By profession I am a Ninja, an advancement on the old-world model you’ve studied. I was hired by Ravensteel to infiltrate your complex for the express purpose of sabotage. I feel relatively safe admitting this to you, because so far I have done nothing except look around. I haven’t killed anyone, destroyed any equipment, or transmitted any information to Ravensteel. My contract is now voided, but to my reasoning, the worst you can do is export me as an undesirable.”

“That’s quite a mouthful, Hayama… Hosato. The big question in my mind is, why?”

“For the money, of course.”

“I mean, why tell me?”

“I’m coming to that.” Hosato began to pace the room as he talked. “I’m breaking cover because I think there’s something bigger at stake.”

“Like what?”

“Killer robots. I think Harry Turner was killed by one of his own prototype security robots and that we’re all in potential danger of sharing that fate.”

“Whoa. Hold on, Hosato. Robot’s can’t—”

“Hear me out, Sasha. I mentioned I had done some looking around yesterday. I was specifically scouting Turner’s manufacturing area for sabotage. I saw two things there that didn’t make sense. First, the maintenance robots were constructing a new assembly line, yet you say there are no known new products planned for that area. Second, I saw a prototype robot being assembled with a built-in blaster in one arm and a light industrial slicer in the other.”

“But robots can’t kill people, they can’t even injure them. Even if they have built-in weapons, they couldn’t use them on anybody.”

“In that same scouting trip, I was almost killed twice, both times by robots. One time, one of the maintenance robots tried to knock me off a catwalk; and a few minutes later one of the design robots tried to shove a screwdriver through my chest. Does that sound like harmless robots going about their work?”

“It could be a malfunction,” she suggested.

“That’s what I thought at first myself. Then I found out that when Harry was killed, he was supposed to be looking over the prototypes of the security robots. It just seems like too much of a coincidence to me.”

“But even if they were able to kill people, would robots have the necessary data tb perform the function?”

“We can check that easily enough,” Hosato said, turning to Suzi. “Suzi. We’re going to need your help.”

The robot remained stoically silent.

“Come on, Suzi. She knows already. There’s no need for secrets anymore.”

There was still no response.

“Am I to take it from your actions,” Sasha asked, “that Suzi is more than the Class Two robot she’s been pretending to be?”

“That’s right,” Hosato responded. “She’s actually rather advanced. A Class Seven.”

“Class Eight,” Suzi corrected him.

“Ah.” Hosato smiled. “Since you’ve decided to join us, what data are available to robots on the subject of killing?”

“Robots are incapable of killing or injuring humans,” Suzi recited. “As any idiot knows.”

Sasha snickered.

“That’s right,” Hosato said. “You all have 'no-kill' programming. But how do you know not to injure anyone?”