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- Исаак Азимов
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"
Speedy
,
"
he
called
.
"
Speedy
!
"
The
sleek
,
modern
robot
ahead
of
him
hesitated
and
halted
his
backward
steps
,
then
resumed
them
.
Powell
tried
to
put
a
note
of
pleading
into
his
voice
,
and
found
it
did
n't
take
much
acting
.
"
Speedy
,
I
've
got
to
get
back
to
the
shadow
or
the
sun
'll
get
me
.
It
's
life
or
death
,
Speedy
.
I
need
you
.
"
Speedy
took
one
step
forward
and
stopped
.
He
spoke
,
but
at
the
sound
Powell
groaned
,
for
it
was
,
"
When
you
're
lying
awake
with
a
dismal
headache
and
repose
is
tabooed
-
"
It
trailed
off
there
,
and
Powell
took
time
out
for
some
reason
to
murmur
,
"
Iolanthe
.
"
It
was
roasting
hot
!
He
caught
a
movement
out
of
the
corner
of
his
eye
,
and
whirled
dizzily
;
then
stared
in
utter
astonishment
,
for
the
monstrous
robot
on
which
he
had
ridden
was
moving
--
moving
toward
him
,
and
without
a
rider
.
He
was
talking
:
"
Pardon
,
Master
.
I
must
not
move
without
a
Master
upon
me
,
but
you
are
in
danger
.
"
Of
course
,
Rule
1
potential
above
everything
.
But
he
did
n't
want
that
clumsy
antique
;
he
wanted
Speedy
.
He
walked
away
and
motioned
frantically
:
"
I
order
you
to
stay
away
.
I
order
you
to
stop
!
"
It
was
quite
useless
.
You
could
not
beat
Rule
1
potential
.
The
robot
said
stupidly
,
"
You
are
in
danger
,
Master
.
"
Powell
looked
about
him
desperately
.
He
could
n't
see
clearly
.
His
brain
was
in
a
heated
whirl
;
his
breath
scorched
when
he
breathed
,
and
the
ground
all
about
him
was
a
shimmering
haze
.
