"McGillicuddy?"
"Of course. Why use five syllables when one will do? Besides, that's what Mac wanted to be called. Mac. I said to him, "If you want Mac, Mac, Mac you'll get."
"That's three Macs in a row."
"As many as he wanted for the way he worked me out. Of course, he had help."
"Oh? What kind of help?"
Norby, who had been jiggling happily, came to a dead halt. He stared at Jeff solemnly, then sucked in his head.
"I said, what kind of help?"
Norby said nothing.
Jeff said, "Look here, I'm asking a question. You've got to answer. That's an order, and you've got to obey an order."
From under the hat came a small and muffled, "Do I have to? Can't we be partners?"
"Partners! Well, Norby, I see now why your other owners had trouble with you. You spent too much time with an old spacer who was so alone that he forgot you were a robot and treated you like another human being. You're not one, you know. You're my teaching robot, and you're not going to be able to do much teaching if you act insubordinate."
The hat elevated slightly, and Norby's eyes peeked over the rim of the barrel. Only part of them could be seen. "That's not why the other owners had trouble with me. I just didn't want them. I was wrong about them, so I made them take me back."
"Next you'll say you made a mistake with me, and make me take you back."
"I might-if you act the way you did just then. And why should you expect me to obey orders? Would you have bought me if I were just another teaching robot?"
Jeff laughed. "If you put it like that, no. I suppose you'd say it was a weird impulse. I think I liked your looks. You're the funniest-looking thing I ever saw."
"Funny? There's a certain dignity about me. Very gracefully proportioned is what I am."
"All right. Don't get offended again. I guess it was your graceful proportions. It made me buy you on a strange impulse."
"No impulse, either."
"No?"
"No! After the last time I was returned, I managed to keep my head just a little elevated, and I even put out my feeler and grounded it. The manager was entirely too inferior to notice. Anyway, it meant I wasn't going to be sold to just anyone who walked in. I could watch customers and feel them-"
"Feel them?"
"Feel their minds. That's why I knew right away that I liked you and-"
"Thank you, Norby."
"Well, you seemed reasonable and not too uppity. You felt like the kind of person who wouldn't come over all superior to a poor robot. I think maybe I was wrong."
"I apologize, Norby."
"All right. Apology accepted. Anyway, I did my best to appeal to you so you would want to buy me, and I tried to get the manager to say nasty things about me-that wasn't hard-because that would get you to want me more. It worked."
"Okay, then, Norby, we're partners." Jeff realized that Norby had not mentioned the loneliness, so Jeff didn't either. "Could you have fixed that rattletrap taxi we took home from the robot shop?"
"If I had the parts-which would have to be enough to build an entirely new taxi, I think. The taxi's antigrav was so bad we skimmed two feet off the ground most of the way. And the robot brain of the taxi was so old and deteriorated that it should have been scrapped two years ago." Norby sounded distinctly superior.
"Most of the taxis in Manhattan are like that," said Jeff. "Are you going to tell me about Mac and what he did to you and what kind of help he had? I only ask as a friend and partner."
"Oh, sure. No problem. Absolutely. But not now. What I'm going to do right now is plug myself into the house current and enjoy a refreshing electronic bath. I hope you have enough money to pay your electric bill, Jeff."
"So far," said Jeff. "If you don't take baths every hour, that is."
"I am not that gluttonous," said Norby haughtily. He scuttled over to a corner and plugged himself in, his barrel body over the carpet with his legs out just far enough to balance him as he rocked back and forth humming to himself.
Jeff grinned. Whatever this McGillicuddy had done to manufacture Norby, it must have been unique. Jeff had never encountered a robot like Norby, or heard of one either. Wait till Fargo came home and met the thing!
Come to think of it, why wasn't Fargo already home?
Midnight came and went. The summer solstice should be celebrated at dawn. That's what Fargo had said. And he took the celebration seriously, so where was he?
Jeff finally slept, uneasily, because he was worried and because he could hear Norby exploring the apartment, opening books and fiddling with equipment-and he couldn't help wondering if Norby were doing any damage.
But mostly he was worried about Fargo. Fargo was a good brother. He'd been almost like a parent, reliable and responsible, except for his habit of getting into trouble unintentionally and upsetting schedules.
"Wake up! It's almost dawn!"
"Fargo?" said Jeff, rubbing his eyes.
"It's Norby. If you want to celebrate the solstice at dawn in the park; you'd better go."
"But Fargo isn't here, and the park's not all that safe-"
Norby's head popped up to full extent. "Not safe! What are you worrying about? You have me, don't you? I'll protect you."
"You're too little. I need Fargo. He's an expert in martial arts. He's been teaching me, but I'm not as good as he is, and he made me promise I wouldn't go into the park at night without him."
"What are martial arts? Show me."
"All right," said Jeff, getting out of bed and shaking his head woozily, "if you'll let me wash up first."
Fifteen minutes later he was in his pants and shirt. He struck a pose in front of Norby and yelled.
"Well?" said Norby, after waiting a little. "What happens next?"
"You're supposed to attack me."
Norby promptly rushed at Jeff, who leaned back, grabbed one of Norby's arms in passing, and heaved.
The barrel hit the opposite wall and bounced to the floor. All the limbs had been reeled in and all the openings shut as soon as Jeff had let go. The barrel rolled across the room.
"Norby? Are you all right? I didn't mean to throw you so hard. It was just reflex."
No sound came from the barrel.
"Hey, are you damaged, Norby?"
The sound came, muffled and sulky, "I can't be damaged-physically. But my feelings are hurt."
"You're not supposed to have feelings."
"But I do, just the same. Just because you're human doesn't mean you have the right to decide I don't have feelings."
"I'm really sorry. I'll be more careful." Jeff picked up Norby and started toward the door. Norby's barrel was awkward and heavy, and Jeff realized he had a hard task on his hands.
Norby's hat elevated, and his eyes looked at Jeff. "What are you doing, Jeff?"
"I'm carrying you to the park. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to walk on those short legs."
"What you mean is that with your long legs it would be painful for you to shorten your stride to match mine, right?"
"Well, yes."
Norby made a small grinding noise. "You mean well, Jeff, but there's a great deal you don't know."
"I never denied that," said Jeff.
"And well you shouldn't. I'll let you in on a secret."
"What secret?"
"This one," said Norby, extruding a hand that grabbed Jeff's. He then floated upward and forward, pulling a surprised Jeff toward the window.
"You've got antigrav!" shouted Jeff. "Miniaturized anti-"
"Not so loud," said Norby. "We don't need to have everyone hear about it."
"Ouch!" said Jeff, his head grazing the bottom of the lifted windowpane. He had time to be glad that their apartment was so old that it had windows that could open, and then he was sailing across Fifth Avenue toward Central Park. He wasn't dangling downward with an arm being pulled out of its socket, as he would have been if he were holding onto a passive rope. Instead it was as though Norby's antigrav were spread out over him, holding him up, lifting him…