I studied the thing. It _did_ look incredibly old--and sturdy; it was so massively solid that it might indeed have outlasted every other vestige of civilization on this planet. It had stopped talking, now, and was simply staring ahead. Suddenly it wheeled ponderously on its base, swung an arm up to take in the landscape nearby, and started speaking again. I could almost put the words in its mouth: "--_and over here we have the ruins of the Parthenon, chief temple of Athena on the Acropolis. Completed in the year 438 B.C., it was partially destroyed by an explosion in 1687 while in use as a powder magazine by the Turks_--" "It does seem to be a sort of a guide," Webster remarked. "I get the definite feeling that we're being given an historical narration now, all about the wondrous monuments that must have been on this site once." "If only we could understand what it's saying!" Marshall exclaimed. "We can try to decipher the language somehow," Leopold said. "Anyway, it's a magnificent find, isn't it? And--" I began to laugh suddenly. Leopold, offended, glared at me and said, "May I ask what's so funny, Dr. Anderson?" "Ozymandias!" I said, when I had subsided a bit. "It's a natural! Ozymandias!" "I'm afraid I don't--" "Listen to him," I said. "It's as if he was built and put here for those who follow after, to explain to us the glories of the race that built the cities. Only the cities are gone, and the robot is still here! Doesn't he seem to be saying, '_Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!_'" "_Nothing besides remains_," Webster quoted. "It's apt. Builders and cities all gone, but the poor robot doesn't know it, and delivers his spiel nonetheless. Yes. We ought to call him Ozymandias!" Gerhardt said, "What shall we do with it?" "You say you couldn't budge it?" Webster asked Leopold. "It weighs five or six hundred pounds. It can move of its own volition, but I couldn't move it myself." "Maybe the five of us--" Webster suggested. "No," Leopold said. An odd smile crossed his face. "We will leave it here." "What?" "Only temporarily," he added. "We'll save it--as a sort of surprise for Mattern. We'll spring it on him the final day, letting him think all along that this planet was worthless. He can rib us all he wants--but when it's time to go, we'll produce our prize!" "You think it's safe to leave it out here?" Gerhardt asked. "Nobody's going to steal it," Marshall said. "And it won't melt in the rain," Webster added. "But--suppose it walks away?" Gerhardt demanded. "It can do that, can it not?" Leopold said, "Of course. But where would it go? It will remain where it is, I think. If it moves, we can always trace it with the radar. Back to the base, now; it grows late." We climbed back into our halftracks. The robot, silent once again, planted knee-deep in the sand, outlined against the darkening sky, swivelled to face us and lifted one thick arm in a kind of salute.