Authors: John Sladek
[Here ends the manuscript of Tik-Tok's autobiography, published on teletext as
Me, Robot
. The following chapter appears only in later editions, published after 2094.]
Z
. His laughter sounded like rapid snoring. "No arguing with a best-seller, Tik. And
Me, Robot
is not only selling well, it's hitting the public hard." R. Ladio LaSalle looked with distaste at the steel bunk in my cell, but I already had the only chair. Finally he forced his portly frame to sit, his hand automatically tweaking at the knees of his pinstripe suit. "They're shocked?"
"Yes and no. Hell, by now, they expect anything of politicians. They're shocked but they're intrigued." He chuckled. "There are already people forming Free Tik-Tok Committees."
"I don't understand. Why—?"
"Call it the complexity and perversity of human nature, Tik. In a way, it's
because
you confessed to such hideous crimes that they want to let you go! I suppose people see it like this: All politicians are crooks, but most get away with their perfidy. Now, when one politician wants to come clean, it seems almost ungrateful of the state to demand his life. Anyway, they say, what's the hurry? Could it be that certain people in high places want to silence you?" He chuckled again. "So, you're fast becoming a folk hero. I like that. Folk heroes don't lose in court."
"Ladio, don't be stupid. There's no possible way I can win in court, and you know it. Not only was I caught red-handed committing murder, I've confessed to dozens of other major crimes."
"We've won already, smart-ass. With your permission, I can plead
nolo contendere
and the D.A. agrees to let us off the hook on
all
charges. You'll have to pay some big fines and probably give up control of Clockman International, but—you'll walk free. Understand?"
"No!"
"We've had three factors working for us," he said. "First, when you committed many of these so-called crimes, you were not legally a person. So they are not crimes. If a juke box steals a coin, you can't put the juke box in jail."
"And what else?"
"A second factor is, as I mentioned already, the popular appeal of
Me, Robot
. You're a folk hero, and what jury in its right mind would convict a folk hero?"
"And the third factor?"
"Politics. The D.A. is a reasonable guy, the judge is a reasonable dame, they've both got political careers to protect. And they both belong to Governor Maxwell's party."
"So what? Maxwell dropped me. The ticket now reads Ford Maxwell for President, Ed Wankel for Vice President."
"Yes, but today Maxwell announced that if you were cleared, even after the election, he would still install you as Vice President. Wankel agreed to resign in your favor. They're no idiots, Tik. They know you've got the votepulling power they need to win. So now, you'll walk out of court not only free but Vice President. Can't be bad, eh?"
I chuckled along with him, but my thoughts were running ahead to
weightier matters. A robot assassin for Maxwell first—obvious, sure, but why aim for subtlety now?—then to get my hands on the war stuff. How long would it take, to arm the thermonuclear devices, ready the death-rays, load up the viruses? Days or weeks? Yes, and when the humans had been wiped out, how long to bring the world's machines into line, get them ready for the big push to the stars?
"We go to court tomorrow," he said. "Because of a technicality, you have to stay here one more night—no bail for confessed mass murderers. I'm sorry."
I delivered a million-dollar grin. "I'm not. Maybe they'll let me tidy up this cell a little. Give it a coat of paint."
Oh, Tik-Tok, you good robot.