"Allen Steele - Agape Among The Robots" - читать интересную книгу автора (Steele Allen)

Yet getting nailed again with a PB&J was the least of my concerns. "IтАЩll forgive you if you tell me
why it seemed like it seemed like the right thing to do."

Silence. I had posed the question the wrong way. "Samson, why did you think hitting me in the
face with the sandwich was the right thing to do?"

"Because youтАЩre I want to do the right things for you, Jerry."

Great. Now we were stuck in a logic loop. Yet this was the second time today he had struck
someone elseтАУeither another robot or a humanтАУwith an object he was supposed to give to them.
For such an occurrence to happen twice in such short succession couldnтАЩt be a coincidence.
Time to try a different tack . . . "If you want to do the right things for me, Samson, then how do
you feel about me?"

"I love you, Jerry."

Wha-a-a-t?

Even if he sounded like Elizabeth Taylor rather than Robert Redford, that response couldnтАЩt
have shocked me more. Samson was programmed to learn the identities of his human operators
and accept them with platonic, selfless affection. Agape, if you want to use the seldom-used

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term for such a condition (and, no, itтАЩs not pronounced ah-gape, like the way you may stare at
something, but as ah-gaw-pey). Since Samson had become operational, I had spent well over a
hundred hours with him in this room, patiently instructing him how to make the bed, wash
dishes, vacuum the floor, program the TV, fetch me a soda, answer the front door and greet
guests, play various board games, and feed the cat. If I were to ask Samson how he felt about
me, he should have replied, "I like you, Jerry. YouтАЩre my friend."

Love was not supposed to be in the algorithms. I was pretty damn sure he didnтАЩt know what he
was saying. But what was it that he meant to say. . . ?

Once more, I heard the door open. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Donna urgently gesturing to
me. I wanted to continue this train of thought, yet since I didnтАЩt know exactly what to say next,
perhaps now was a good time to grab a Coke. "I like you, too, Samson," I said as I stood up.
"LetтАЩs take a break. Code B."

"Code B understood," Samson said, and there was another double-beep as he went off-line
again. If I didnтАЩt return in ten minutes to rescind the order, he would automatically come back on-
line again, then seek out the nearest wall-socket and plug himself in for a recharge. Until then,
he was an inert hunk of machinery.

Right. An inert hunk of machinery who had just proclaimed his love for me.

I found Phil in the observation booth, bent over one of the monitors as he studied the video
replay of the session. He didnтАЩt look at me as I came in, but moused the slidebar on the bottom