The paint was chipped by the slugs, butthe metal was hardly scratched.
"This is going to cause me trouble, big trouble," the Chief wailed.
I knew he meant with the protection boys. They did not like punksgetting arrested and guns going off without their okay. But Ned thoughtthe Chief had other worries and rushed in to put them right. "There willbe no trouble. At no time did I violate any of the Robotic RestrictionLaws, they are part of my control circuits and therefore fullyautomatic. The men who drew their guns violated both robotic and humanlaw when they threatened violence. I did not injure the men--merelyrestrained them."
It was all over the Chief's head, but I liked to think _I_ could followit. And I _had_ been wondering how a robot--a machine--could be involvedin something like law application and violence. Ned had the answer tothat one too.
"Robots have been assuming these functions for years. Don't recordingradar meters pass judgment on human violation of automobile regulations?A robot alcohol detector is better qualified to assess the sobriety of aprisoner than the arresting officer. At one time robots were evenallowed to make their own decisions about killing. Before the RoboticRestriction Laws automatic gun-pointers were in general use. Their finaldevelopment was a self-contained battery of large anti-aircraft guns.Automatic scan radar detected all aircraft in the vicinity. Those thatcould not return the correct identifying signal had their coursestracked and computed, automatic fuse-cutters and loaders readied thecomputer-aimed guns--which were fired by the robot mechanism."
There was little I could argue about with Ned. Except maybe hiscollege-professor vocabulary. So I switched the attack.
"But a robot can't take the place of a cop, it's a complex human job."
"Of course it is, but taking a human policeman's place is not thefunction of a police robot. Primarily I combine the functions ofnumerous pieces of police equipment, integrating their operations andmaking them instantly available. In addition I can aid in the_mechanical_ processes of law enforcement. If you arrest a man youhandcuff him. But if you order me to do it, I have made no moraldecision. I am just a machine for attaching handcuffs at that point ..."
My raised hand cut off the flow of robotic argument. Ned was hipped tohis ears with facts and figures and I had a good idea who would come offsecond best in any continued discussion. No laws had been broken whenNed made the pinch, that was for sure. But there are other laws thanthose that appear on the books.
"China Joe is not going to like this, not at all," the Chief said,speaking my own thoughts.
The law of Tooth and Claw. That's one that wasn't in the law books. Andthat was what ran Nineport. The place was just big enough to have a goodpopulation of gambling joints, bawdy houses and drunk-rollers. They wereall run by China Joe. As was the police department. We were all in hispocket and you might say he was the one who paid our wages. This is notthe kind of thing, though, that you explain to a robot.
"Yeah, China Joe."
I thought it was an echo at first, then realized that someone had easedin the door behind me. Something called Alex. Six feet of bone, muscleand trouble. China Joe's right hand man. He imitated a smile at theChief who sank a bit lower in his chair.
"China Joe wants you should tell him why you got smart cops going aroundand putting the arm on people and letting them shoot up good liquor.He's mostly angry about the hooch. He says that he had enough guff andafter this you should--"
"I am putting you under Robot Arrest, pursuant to article 46, paragraph19 of the revised statutes ..."
Ned had done it before we realized he had even moved. Right in front ofour eyes he was arresting Alex and signing our death warrants.
Alex was not slow. As he turned to see who had grabbed him, he hadalready dragged out this cannon. He got one shot in, square againstNed's chest, before the robot plucked the gun away and slipped on thecuffs. While we all gaped like dead fish, Ned recited the charge in whatI swear was a satisfied tone.
"The prisoner is Peter Rakjomskj, alias Alex the Axe, wanted in CanalCity for armed robbery and attempted murder. Also wanted by local policeof Detroit, New York and Manchester on charges of ..."
"_Get it off me!_" Alex howled. We might have too, and everything mighthave still been straightened out if Benny Bug hadn't heard the shot. Hepopped his head in the front door just long enough to roll his eyes overour little scene.
"Alex ... they're puttin' the arm on Alex!"
Then he was gone and when I hit the door he was nowhere in sight. ChinaJoe's boys always went around in pairs. And in ten minutes he would knowall about it.
"Book him," I told Ned. "It wouldn't make any difference if we let himgo now. The world has already come to an end."
Fats came in then, mumbling to himself. He jerked a thumb over hisshoulder when he saw me.
"What's up? I see little Benny Bug come out of here like the place wason fire and almost get killed driving away?"
Then Fats saw Alex with the bracelets on and turned sober in one second.He just took a moment to gape, then his mind was made up. Without atrace of a stagger he walked over to the Chief and threw his badge onthe desk in front of him.
"I am an old man and I drink too much to be a cop. Therefore I amresigning from the force. Because if that is whom I think it is overthere with the cuffs on, I will not live to be a day older as long as Iam around here."
"Rat." The Chief growled in pain through his clenched teeth. "Desertingthe sinking ship. Rat."
"Squeak," Fats said and left.
The Chief was beyond caring at this point. He didn't blink an eye when Itook Fats' badge off the desk. I don't know why I did it, perhaps Ithought it was only fair. Ned had started all the trouble and I was justangry enough to want him on the spot when it was finished. There weretwo rings on his chest plate, and I was not surprised when the badge pinfitted them neatly.
"There, now you are a real cop." Sarcasm dripped from the words. Ishould have realized that robots are immune to sarcasm. Ned took mystatement at face value.
"This is a very great honor, not only for me but for all robots. I willdo my best to fulfill all the obligations of the office." Jack Armstrongin tin underwear. I could hear the little motors in his guts hummingwith joy as he booked Alex.
If everything else hadn't been so bad I would have enjoyed that. Ned hadmore police equipment built into him than Nineport had ever owned. Therewas an ink pad that snapped out of one hip, and he efficiently rolledAlex's fingertips across it and stamped them on a card. Then he held theprisoner at arm's length while something clicked in his abdomen. Oncemore sideways and two instant photographs dropped out of a slot. The mugshots were stuck on the card, arrest details and such inserted. Therewas more like this, but I forced myself away. There were more importantthings to think about.
Like staying alive.
"Any ideas, Chief?"
A groan was my only answer so I let it go at that. Billy, the balance ofthe police force, came in then. I gave him a quick rundown. Eitherthrough stupidity or guts he elected to stay, and I was proud of theboy. Ned locked away the latest prisoner and began sweeping up.
That was the way we were when China Joe walked in.
Even though we were expecting it, it was still a shock. He had a bunchof his toughest hoods with him and they crowded through the door like anoverweight baseball team. China Joe was in front, hands buried in thesleeves of his long mandarin gown. No expression at all on his asceticfeatures. He didn't waste time talking to us, just gave the word to hisown boys.
"Clean this place up. The new police Chief will be here in a while and Idon't want him to see any bums hanging around."
It made me angry. Even with the graft I like to feel I'm still a cop.Not on a cheap punk's payroll. I was also curious about China Joe. Hadbeen ever since I tried to get a line on him and never found a thing. Istill wanted to know.
"Ned, take a good look at that Chinese guy in the rayon bathrobe and letme know who he is."
My, but those electronic circuits work fast. Ned shot the
answer backlike a straight man who had been rehearsing his lines for weeks.
"He is a pseudo-oriental, utilizing a natural sallowness of the skinheightened with dye. He is not Chinese. There has also been an operationon his eyes, scars of which are still visible. This has been undoubtedlydone in an attempt to conceal his real identity, but Bertillonmeasurements of his ears and other features make identity positive. Heis on the Very Wanted list of Interpol and his real name is ..."
China Joe was angry, and with a reason.
"That's the _thing_ ... that big-mouthed tin radio set over there. Weheard about it and we're taking care of it!"
The mob jumped aside then or hit the deck and I saw there was a guykneeling in the door with a rocket launcher. Shaped anti-tank charges,no doubt.