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- Исаак Азимов
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"
You
can
prove
anything
you
want
by
coldly
logical
reason
--
if
you
pick
the
proper
postulates
.
We
have
ours
and
Cutie
has
his
.
"
"
Then
let
's
get
at
those
postulates
in
a
hurry
.
The
storm
's
due
tomorrow
.
"
Powell
sighed
wearily
.
"
That
's
where
everything
falls
down
.
Postulates
are
based
on
assumption
and
adhered
to
by
faith
.
Nothing
in
the
Universe
can
shake
them
.
I
'm
going
to
bed
.
"
"
Oh
,
hell
!
I
ca
n't
sleep
!
"
"
Neither
can
1
!
But
I
might
as
well
try
--
as
a
matter
of
principle
.
"
Twelve
hours
later
,
sleep
was
still
just
that
-
a
matter
of
principle
,
unattainable
in
practice
.
The
storm
had
arrived
ahead
of
schedule
,
and
Donovan
's
florid
face
drained
of
blood
as
he
pointed
a
shaking
finger
.
Powell
,
stubble-jawed
and
dry-lipped
,
stared
out
the
port
and
pulled
desperately
at
his
mustache
.
Under
other
circumstances
,
it
might
have
been
a
beautiful
sight
.
The
stream
of
high-speed
electrons
impinging
upon
the
energy
beam
fluoresced
into
ultra-spicules
of
intense
light
.
The
beam
stretched
out
into
shrinking
nothingness
,
a-glitter
with
dancing
,
shining
motes
.
The
shaft
of
energy
was
steady
,
but
the
two
Earthmen
knew
the
value
of
naked-eyed
appearances
.
Deviations
in
arc
of
a
hundredth
of
a
millisecond
-
invisible
to
the
eye
-
were
enough
to
send
the
beam
wildly
out
of
focus
--
enough
to
blast
hundreds
of
square
miles
of
Earth
into
incandescent
ruin
.
And
a
robot
,
unconcerned
with
beam
,
focus
,
or
Earth
,
or
anything
but
his
Master
was
at
the
controls
.
