And the robot stepped toward them until it could have reached out and crushed them.
"Torture them!" It was a hoarse sadistic whisper escaping quietly smiling lips.
The robot turned its sensory assembly to look at the source of the voice.
"I'll torture them in my own way, Pwowp," it said. "I want them to last a long time. A very long time."
"What are you?" Larry's voice was hoarse. "Can humans stoop so low that they let this happen?"
"Humans?" the robot said. "Look. I'll show you."
It reached out to the nearest of the young men. The quiet smile remained on the young man's face as 2615's metal fingers wrapped around the head and crushed it. Wires and plastic tubing and colorless fluid squeezed through the metal fingers. The robot withdrew its hand.
The man with the crushed face didn't scream nor fall down. He stood there, one hand brushing casually at the damage. Then he turned and made his way toward a door, avoiding obstacles as though he still could see. And he should have been dead.
"Robots," 2615 said. It reached out slowly toward Larry. Its metal fingers circled his throat, but without exerting pressure. "They have given me dogs. Puppies. Some of them are—like I was. I want to be with them all the time. But every day I will come to you. Larry? Stella? Human names. Humans. I don't want you to die. Not for a long time."
The metal fingers were withdrawn from Larry's neck, leaving discolored bruises.