Alfred lanning lit his cigar carefully, but his finger were trembling a little. He frowned as he was speaking. 'It can actually read minds. Little doubt about that! But why?' He looked at mathematician Peter Bogert. 'Well?'
Bogert passed both hands over his smooth black hair.
'That was the thirty-fourth RB robot we've produced. All the other were absolutely normal.'
the third man at the table frowned . Milton Ashe was the youngest director of US Robots company, and proud of his position.
'Listen, Bogert. In the factory, we make sure that each robot is produced perfectly.'
Bogert smiled unpleasantly. ‘Do you? A positronic brain is very complicated. It involves 75,234 separate operations in the factory in order to produce one positronic brain. You yourself have told us this. If any one of those operations goes seriously wrong, then the brain is useless.'
Milton Ashe reddened, but a fourth voice prevented his reply. 'If we're going to start blaming each other, then I'm leaving. 'Susan Calvin's thin Lips did not smile.
'We've got a mind-reading robot and it's important that we discover the reason. "Your fault! My fault!" - that isn't going to help.'
Her cold grey eyes fixed on Ashe and he smiled.
Dr. Laning smiled, too. 'True, Dr. Calvin,' he said. 'We've produced a positronic brain that can red minds. We don't know how it happened. Ashe, I want you to check the factory, from the beginning to the end. Everything. And list any operations where there may have been a mistake.'