"Not with the kind of fingers they have."
Angus indicated the hand that held his ankle. Three digits were wrenches of various sizes. The index finger was a screwdriver. The thumb was a Stillson wrench. The thumb on the other hand was a disclike appendage.
Drummond hunched over. "76, what's your function?"
The robot looked up. "To serve Jackson."
"You're a big help," said Drummond.
"Why dost thou tempt us, O Jackson?" asked RA-204. "Wouldst Thou test our beliefs?"
"We're no gods," Angus declared as the robot drew up before the cave.
"Thou art Jackson!" insisted 204.
Drummond and McIntosh were hoisted to a ledge beside the mouth of the cave. The robots backed off, forming a half circle, and bowed in obeisance.
Angus ran a hand helplessly through his sparse gray hair. "Would you say there are four hundred of them?"