HELENA. Oh, don’t speak like that, Harry. It was so terrible, this cruel strangeness between us and them. That’s why I asked Gall to _change_ the Robots. I swear to you that he didn’t want to. DOMIN. But he did it. HELENA. Because I asked him. DR. GALL. I did it for myself as an experiment. (_Up to window._) HELENA. No, Doctor Gall! I know you wouldn’t refuse me. DOMIN. Why? HELENA. You know, Harry. DOMIN. Yes, because he’s in _love_ with you--like all of them. (_FABRY up to window. Pause. DOMIN takes her in his arms._) HALLEMEIER. Good God, they’re sprouting up out of the earth. Why, perhaps these very walls will change into Robots. BUSMAN. (_Rises; crosses to GALL_) Gall, when did you actually start these tricks of yours? DR. GALL. Three years ago. BUSMAN. Aha. And on how many Robots altogether did you _carry out_ your improvements? (_Walking to and fro._) DR. GALL. A few hundred of them. BUSMAN. Ah! That means for every million of the good old Robots there’s only one of Gall’s improved pattern. (_Back to table L.C._) DOMIN. What of it? (_Crossing around L., he stands upstage in the L.2 doorway._) BUSMAN. That it’s of no consequence whatsoever. FABRY. Busman’s right. (_HELENA sits in armchair R. of L.C. table._) BUSMAN. I should think so, my boy; but do you know what is to blame for this lovely mess? FABRY. What? BUSMAN. The number! (_Crosses to L. of L.C. table_) Upon my soul, we might have known that some day or other the Robots would be stronger than human beings, and that this was bound to happen. And we were doing all we could to bring it about as soon as possible. You, Domin, you, Fabry, myself-- DOMIN. Are you accusing us? (_Turning on him._) BUSMAN. Oh, do you suppose the management controls the output? It’s the demand that controls the output. HELENA. And is it for that we must perish? BUSMAN. That’s a nasty word, Madame Helena. We don’t want to perish. I don’t, anyhow. (_He sits L. of table._) DOMIN. No? What do you want to do? BUSMAN. I want to get out of this, that’s all. DOMIN. Oh, stop it, Busman. BUSMAN. Seriously, Harry, I think we might try it. DOMIN. How? (_To front again._) BUSMAN. By fair means. I do everything by fair means. Give me a free hand and I’ll _negotiate_ with the Robots. DOMIN. By fair means? BUSMAN. (_Rises_) Of course. For instance, I’ll say to them: “Worthy and Worshipful Robots, you have everything. You have intellect, you have power, you have _firearms_. But we have just one interesting screed, a dirty old yellow scrap of paper--” DOMIN. Rossum’s manuscript? (_Interest from ALL. GALL is at C., near couch. HALLEMEIER is up at window C._)