"Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Ideal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinbaum Stanley G)

"The power of reason," said van Manderpootz solemnly.

"How? And why ought it to work on gasoline instead of electric power?"

"One question at a time, Dixon. You have missed the grandeur of van Manderpootz's concept. See here,
this creature, imperfect as it is, represents the predatory machine. It is the mechanical parallel of the tiger,
lurking in its jungle to leap on living prey. This monster's jungle is the city; its prey is the unwary machine
that follows the trails called streets. Understand?"

"No."

"Well, picture this automaton, not as it is, but as van Manderpootz could make it if he wished. It lurks
gigantic in the shadows of buildings; it creeps stealthily through dark alleys; it skulks on deserted streets,
with its gasoline engine purring quietly. ThenтАФan unsuspecting automobile flashes its image on the screen
behind its eyes. It leaps. It seizes its prey, swinging it in steel arms to its steel jaws. Through the metal
throat of its victim crash steel teeth; the blood of its preyтАФthe gasoline, that isтАФis drained into its
stomach, or its gas-tank. With renewed strength it flings away the husk and prowls on to seek other prey.
It is the machine-carnivore, the tiger of mechanics."

I suppose I stared dumbly. It occurred to me suddenly that the brain of the great van Manderpootz was
cracking. "What theтАФ?" I gasped.

"That," he said blandly, "is but a concept. I have many another use for the toy. I can prove anything with
it, anything I wish."

"You can? Then prove something."

"Name your proposition, Dixon."

I hesitated, nonplussed.

"Come!" he said impatiently. "Look here; I will prove that anarchy is the ideal government, or that
Heaven and Hell are the same place, or thatтАФ"

"Prove that!" I said. "About Heaven and Hell."

"Easily. First we will endow my robot with intelligence. I add a mechanical memory by means of the old
Cushman delayed valve; I add a mathematical sense with any of the calculating machines; I give it a voice
and a vocabulary with the magnetic-impulse wire phonograph. Now the point I make is this: Granted an
intelligent machine, does it not follow that every other machine constructed like it must have the identical
qualities? Would not each robot given the same insides have exactly the same character?"

"No!" I snapped. "Human beings can't make two machines exactly alike. There'd be tiny differences; one
would react quicker than others, or one would prefer Fox Airsplitters as prey, while another reacted
most vigorously to Carnecars. In other words, they'd haveтАФindividuality!" I grinned in triumph.

"My point exactly," observed van Manderpootz. "You admit, then, that this individuality is the result of
imperfect workmanship. If our means of manufacture were perfect, all robots would be identical, and this
individuality would not exist. Is that true?"