“Lew Mellon,” he said very quietly, “is dead.”
The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin stark against the bright red of her hair. For a moment he thought she was going to faint. Then a little of the color came back.
“Snookums.” Her voice was whispery.
He shook his head. “No. Apparently he tried to jump Vaneski and got hit with a stun beam. It shouldn’t have killed him—but apparently it did.”
“God, God, God,” she said softly. “Here I’ve been crying about a damned machine, and poor Lew has been lying up there dead.” She buried her face in her hands, and her voice was muffled when she spoke again. “And I’m all cried out, Mike. I can’t cry any more.”
Before Mike could make up his mind whether to say anything or not, the door of Snookums’ room opened and Dr. Fitzhugh came out, closing the door behind him. There was an odd, stricken look on his face. He looked at Leda and then at Mike, but the expression on his face showed that he really hadn’t seen them clearly.
“Did you ever wonder if a robot had a soul, Mike?” he asked in a wondering tone.
“No,” Mike admitted.
Leda took her hands from her face and looked at him. Her expression was a bright blank stare.
“He won’t answer my questions,” Fitzhugh said in a hushed tone. “I can’t complete the analysis.”