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which Sir provided, and decorated them with inlays of the most intricate and ingenious patterns.
    Sir went upstairs to the workshop every day or two to inspect the latest creations.
    "These are amazing productions, Andrew," he would say again and again. "Utterly amazing. You aren't just an artisan, do you realize that? You're a true artist. And the things you've been turning out are works of art."
    Andrew said, "I enjoy making them, Sir."
    "Enjoy?"
    "Should I not be using that word?"
    "It's a little unusual to hear a robot speaking of 'enjoying' something, that's all. I didn't realize that robots had the capacity for feelings of that sort."
    "Perhaps I use the concept loosely."
    "Perhaps you do," Sir said. "But I'm not so sure. You say that you enjoy making this furniture. What exactly do you mean by that?"
    "When I do the work, it makes the circuits of my brain somehow flow more easily. That seems to me to be the equivalent of the human feeling known as 'enjoyment.' I have heard you use the word 'enjoy' and I think I understand its significance. The way you use it fits the way I feel. So it seems appropriate for me to say that I enjoy making these things, Sir."
    "Ah. Yes."
    Sir was quiet for a time.
    "You are a very unusual robot, do you know that, Andrew?"
    "I am entirely standard, Sir. My circuitry is modular NDR, nothing more, nothing less."
    "Indeed."
    "Does my doing this cabinetwork trouble you, Sir?"
    "Not at all, Andrew. Quite the contrary."
    "Yet I sense some uneasiness in your vocal tones. There is a quality in them of-how shall I express it?-a quality of surprise? No, 'surprise' is inaccurate. A quality of uncertainty? Of doubt?-What I mean is that you appear to be thinking, Sir, that I am working beyond the programmed levels of my capacities."
    "Yes," said Sir. "That's exactly what I do think, Andrew. Well beyond your programmed levels, as a matter of fact. Not that I'm troubled that you've unexpectedly turned out to have this little streak of artistic ability in you, you understand. But I'd like to know just why it's there."

Four
    A FEW DAYS LATER Gerald Martin telephoned the managing director of the regional headquarters of the United States Robots and Mechanical Men Corporation and said, "I'm having a little problem with the NDR household robot that you assigned to me."
    The managing director's name was Elliot Smythe. Like many of the high executives of U.S.R.M.M., Smythe was a member of the extensive and powerful Robertson family, descended from the original Lawrence Robertson who had founded the U. S. Robots Corporation in the latter part of the Twentieth Century.
    Although by this time the company was so huge that it could no longer strictly be considered a Robertson family enterprise-the constant need to bring in fresh capital for expansion had forced the Robertsons and Smythes steadily to sell off a good-sized portion of their holdings of U.S.R.M.M. stock to outside investors-it was never a simple matter for outsiders to pick up the telephone and ask to speak to a Robertson or a Smythe. But Gerald Martin, after all, was Chairman of the Regional Legislature's Science and Technology Committee. Robertsons and Smythes, wealthy and powerful though they might be, were in no position to ignore telephone calls from Gerald Martin.
    "A problem?" Elliott Smythe said, and his face on the telephone screen registered deep and sincere concern. "I'm tremendously sorry to hear that, Mr. Martin. And more than a little startled, too, I have to confess. Your NDR is a state-of-the-art product, you know, and the testing it received before it left here was extremely thorough. -What kind of malfunction have you been experiencing, actually? Is the robot failing to live up to your expectations in any way?"
    "I didn't say anything about a malfunction."
    "But you mentioned a problem, Mr. Martin. The NDR should be able to handle any household duty that you-"
    Sir said crisply, "This has nothing to do with assigned household duties,