"Leinster, Murray - A Logic Named Joe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

The screen sputters. Then it says:
"Definitely yes."
"How great will the modifications be?" I punch.
"Microscopically slight. Changes in dimensions," says the screen. "Even modern precision gauges are not exact enough to check them, however. They can only come about under present manufacturing methods by an extremely improbable accident, which has only happened once."
"How can one get hold of that one accident which can do this highly necessary work?" I punch.
The screen sputters. Sweat broke out on me. I ain't got it figured out -close, yet, but what I'm scared of is that whatever is Joe will be suspicious. But what I'm askin' is strictly logical. And logics can't lie. They gotta be accurate. They can't help it.
"A complete logic capable of the work required," says the screen, "is now ordinary family use -"
And it gives me the Korlanovitch address and then I go over there! Do I go over there fast! I pull up the Maintenance car in front of the place, and I take the extra logic outta the back, and I stagger up the Korlanovitch flat and I ring the bell. A kid answers the door.
"I'm from Logics Maintenance," I tell the kid. "An inspection record has shown that your logic is apt to break down any minute. I come to put in a new one before it does." The kid says "O.K.!" real bright and runs back to the living-room where Joe-I got the habit of callin' him Joe later, through just meditating about him-is running somethin' the kids wanna look at. I hook in the other logic and turn it on, conscientious making sure it works.
Then I say:
"Now kiddies, you punch this one for what you want. I'm gonna take the old one away before it breaks down?"
And I glance at the screen. The kiddies have apparently said they wanna look at some real cannibals. So the screen is presenting a anthropological expedition scientific record film of the fertility dance of the HubaJouba tribe of West Africa. It is supposed to be restricted to anthropological professors and post-graduate medical students. But there ain't any censor blocks working any movie and it's on. The kids are much interested. Me, bein' a old married man, I blush.
I disconnect Joe. Careful. I turn to the other logic and punch keys for Maintenance. I do not get a services flash. I get Maintenance. I feel very good. I report that I am goin' home because I fell down a flight of steps and hurt my leg. I add, inspired:
"And say, I was carryin' the logic I replaced and it's all busted. I left it for the dustman to pick up."
"If you don't turn them in," says Stock, "you gotta pay for them."
"Cheap at the price," I say.
I go home. Laurine ain't called. I put Joe down in the cellar, careful. If I turned him in, he'd be inspected and his parts salvaged even if I busted something on him. Whatever part was off-normal might be used again and everything start all over. I can't risk it. I pay for him and leave him be.
That's what happened. You might say I saved civilization and not be far wrong. I know I ain't going to take a chance on having Joe in action again. Not while Laurine is living. And there are other reasons. With all the nuts who wanna change the world to their own line of thinking, and the ones that wanna bump people off, and generally solve their problems- Yeah! Problems are bad, but I figure I better let sleeping problems lie.
But on the other hand, if Joe could be tamed, somehow, and got to work just reasonable- He could make me a couple million dollars, easy. But even if I got sense enough not to get rich, and if I get retired and just loaf around fishing and lying to other old dufiers about what a great guy I used to be- Maybe I'll like it, but maybe I won't. And after all, if I get fed up with being old and confined strictly to thinking-why I could hook Joe in long enough to ask: "How can a old guy not stay old?" Joe'll be able to find out. And he'll tell me.
That couldn't be allowed out general, of course. You gotta make room for kids to grow up. But it's a pretty good world, now Joe's turned off. Maybe I'll turn him on long enough to learn how tє stay in it. But on the other hand, maybe