Hen set his jaw. He was sounding like a lecturer, he realized. But it annoyed him for the girl to point it out.
"I'm getting there as fast as I can. We were faced with devising an intricate mechanical nervous system. Thus, should a joint grow warm from lack of lubrication, an impulse of distress could be telegraphed to the central clearing center, identified, shunted to the lubricatory system which would oil the joints. A spark of consciousness would be created. It would manifest itself as acute distress in the defective joint.
"We incorporated a simple metabolism by which the robots converted raw stuff into fuel and lubrication. The rest of the mechanism was much the same as that of any animal confronted by the necessity of self preservation. Organs for locomotion and work. Organs for perception."
Sofi frowned. "So?"
"Most things in nature serve multiple purposes. Arms and legs are no exception. They provide offensive as well as defensive weapons. We've succeeded in building a conscious machine without any adequate control."
"But you sound as if you thought it might turn on man," protested the girl with a shudder. "Why should it?"
"For the same reason we built it," he said with a touch of irony. "Freedom. So long as it doesn't learn to reproduce itself, though, it's not a danger. That is, not to the race."
"But a machine! Surely you can forecast how a machine will act!"
"Can we?" His voice was savage. "How would a conscious machine react to its environment? What would its thoughts be? I tell you, once it integrates itself, we have no means of predicting its reactions!"