How could a robot—a machine, after all—be involved in something likelaw application and violence? Harry Harrison, who will be remembered forhis THE VELVET GLOVE (Nov. 1956) and his more recent TRAINEE FOR MARS(June 1958) tells what happens when a police robot hits an outpost on Mars.
At one time—this was before the RobotRestriction Laws—they'd even allowedthem to make their own decisions....
It was a big, coffin-shaped plywoodbox that looked like it weigheda ton. This brawny type justdumped it through the door of thepolice station and started away. Ilooked up from the blotter andshouted at the trucker's vanishingback.
"What the hell is that?"
"How should I know?" he saidas he swung up into the cab. "Ijust deliver, I don't X-ray 'em. Itcame on the morning rocket fromearth is all I know." He gunnedthe truck more than he had to andthrew up a billowing cloud of reddust.
"Jokers," I growled to myself."Mars is full of jokers."
When I went over to look at thebox I could feel the dust grate betweenmy teeth. Chief Craig musthave heard the racket because hecame out of his office and helpedme stand and look at the box.
"Think it's a bomb?" he askedin a bored voice.
"Why would anyone bother—particularlywith a thing this size?And all the way from earth."
He nodded agreement and walkedaround to look at the other end.There was no sender's address anywhereon the outside. Finally wehad to dig out the crowbar and Iwent to work on the top. Aftersome prying it pulled free and felloff.
That was when we had our firstlook at Ned. We all would havebeen a lot happier if it had beenour last look as well. If we hadjust put the lid back on and shippedthe thing back to earth! I knownow what they mean about Pandora'sBox.
But we just stood there andstared like a couple of rubes. Nedlay motionless and stared back atus.
"A robot!" the Chief said.
"Very observant; it's easy to seeyou went to the police academy."
"Ha ha! Now find out what he'sdoing here."
I hadn't gone to the academy,but this was no handicap to myfinding the letter. It was stickingup out of a thick book in a pocketin the box. The Chief took the letterand read it with little enthusiasm.
"Well, well! United Roboticshave the brainstorm that ... robots,correctly used will tend to proveinvaluable in police work ... theywant us to co-operate in a fieldtest ... robot enclosed is the latestexperimental model; valued at120,000 credits."
We both looked back at therobot, sharing the wish that thecredits had been in the box insteadof it. The Chief frowned andmoved his lips through the rest ofthe letter. I wondered how we gotthe robot out of its plywood coffin.
Experimental model or not, thiswas a nice-looking hunk of machinery.A uniform navy-blue all over,though the outlet cases, hooks andsuch were a metallic gold. Someonehad gone to a lot of trouble to getthat effect. This was as close as arobot could look to a cop in uniform,without being a joke. All thatseemed to be missing was the badgeand gun.
Then I noticed the tiny glow oflight in the robot's eye lenses. Ithad never occurred to me beforethat the thing might be turned on.There was nothing to lose by findingout.
"Get out of that box," I said.
The robot came up smooth andfast as a rocket, landing two feetin front of me and whipping outa snappy salute.
"Police Experimental Robot,