"That's ridiculous." "Please ... don't interrupt me. I want to finish telling you ... the Robots communicate with humans by telepathy. You witnessed it yourself, a few ... minutes ago. They can make it seem like your own thoughts and ... who can say? Thought waves are electromagnetic, like ... so many other things. There is nothing mysterious about ... telepathy. Give humanity a chance to study what the ... Robots have done and ... you'll have civilization flourishing again within a generation. Give humanity the chance...." It was a whisper, a prayer. On that final note of hope, Westler died. * * * * * "The human has emerged from the underground within his Robot and is heading north-east across the city." "I still think we ought to stop him now, while we know we can do it." "Silence. Think on the primary level. In unity we will triumph. It is our one weapon they cannot hope to match." "But 63-17-B warned us before he perished--" "Precisely. That the humans were attempting something other than mere escape. We must find out what that is, what they have learned. Don't you realize that if this man fails another might succeed in his place? Whatever knowledge he has, perhaps it is widely disseminated. We must find out before we kill him." There was a silence among the conclave of motionless Robots, their unblinking eyes intent upon a huge three-dimensional map of the city, following a tiny pip of light in its slow progress. "He seems to be heading straight for Central Intelligence." "That's hardly possible, unless it is mere coincidence." "I don't think so.... See? Not half a mile away, now." "Have the supervisors discovered who is missing?" "Yes. He was employed in the very repair bay where 63-17-B perished--a defective Robot, incidentally, and no great loss. We have given his name to the top-level Shining Ones in the hope that they can help us." "There is a Shining One, a human, here right now. He wants an audience concerning the rebel." "Very well, although we'll have to make it brief." Starbuck entered the chamber cockily, then lost his poise when he saw the solemn, unmoving conclave of Robots. "I have outside," he began, moistening his lips and talking rapidly, "a woman who this man, this Johnny Hope, loves. Can you understand me? Do you know what love is? He won't do a thing that might harm her." _We can understand._ "I thought that--" _We can read your thoughts. Leave your name with the Robot outside. Take this woman within the U.N. building and hold her there until you hear from us._ "The U.N. building?" _No questions. Go._ Starbuck shuffled from the room, self-conscious and fearful under the mental command. "I doubt if we'll need the hostage, but you never can tell." "It seems incredible that--"