"They haven't done anything, sir."
"Then why don't the robots fire as they've been told?" Dodeth didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he was badly frightened. He had never heard of a robot behaving this way before.
"They can't, sir."
"They can't? Don't they realize that if those things aren't killed, we may all die?"
"I didn't know that," said the patrol robot. "If we do not kill them, then you may be killed, and you have ordered us to kill them, but if we obey your orders, then we will kill them, and that will mean that you won't be killed, but they will, so we can't do that, but if we don't then you will be killed, and we must obey, and that means we must, but we can't, but if we don't we will, and we can't so we must but we can't but if we don't you will so we must but we can't but we—" He kept repeating it over and over again, on and on and on.
"Stop that!" snapped Dodeth.
But the robot didn't even seem to hear.
Dodeth was really frightened now. He looked back at the five keepers and scuttled toward them.
"What's wrong with the robots?" he asked shrilly. "They've never failed us before!"
The Elder Keeper looked at him. "What makes you think they've failed us now?" he asked softly.