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"
Look
,
"
clamored
Donovan
,
suddenly
,
writhing
out
from
under
Cutie
's
friendly
,
but
metal-heavy
arm
,
"
let
's
get
to
the
nub
of
the
thing
.
Why
the
beams
at
all
?
We
're
giving
you
a
good
,
logical
explanation
.
Can
you
do
better
?
"
"
The
beams
,
"
was
the
stiff
reply
,
"
are
put
out
by
the
Master
for
his
own
purposes
.
There
are
some
things
"
--
he
raised
his
eyes
devoutly
upward
"
that
are
not
to
be
probed
into
by
us
.
In
this
matter
,
I
seek
only
to
serve
and
not
to
question
.
"
Powell
sat
down
slowly
and
buried
his
face
in
shaking
hands
.
"
Get
out
of
here
,
Cutie
.
Get
out
and
let
me
think
.
"
"
I
'll
send
you
food
,
"
said
Cutie
agreeably
.
A
groan
was
the
only
answer
and
the
robot
left
.
"
Greg
,
"
was
Donovan
's
huskily
whispered
observation
,
"
this
calls
for
strategy
.
We
've
got
to
get
him
when
he
is
n't
expecting
it
and
shortcircuit
him
.
Concentrated
nitric
acid
in
his
joints
-
"
"
Do
n't
be
a
dope
,
Mike
.
Do
you
suppose
he
's
going
to
let
us
get
near
him
with
acid
in
our
hands
?
We
've
got
to
talk
to
him
,
I
tell
you
.
We
've
got
to
argue
him
into
letting
us
back
into
the
control
room
inside
of
forty-eight
hours
or
our
goose
is
broiled
to
a
crisp
.
"
He
rocked
back
and
forth
in
an
agony
of
impotence
.
"
Who
the
heck
wants
to
argue
with
a
robot
?
It
's
...
it
's
-
"
"
Mortifying
,
"
finished
Donovan
.
"
Worse
!
"
