refore ordinarily should not be appealed to on the basis of reason.

He swallowed hard and looked at Chloe. "What should I do?" he asked.

"Emotion," she said. "Robots don't understand emotion. But they can and
have been built to recognize emotion. On a minor matter such as this,
you need to overload the emotion recognition factor.

"Merely identify the planet. Then stress not the justice of your claim
but the anguish you've suffered. Make it extreme--paint a picture of the
misery the error has already caused and will continue to cause. If you
make it strong enough, the robot will set aside rational processes and
grant the request."

* * * * *

It began to be clear. As the government grew in size and complexity and
contact with the governed parts became more tenuous, greater reliance
had to be placed in logic, machine-made logic. But machines could not
hope to encompass all the irrationality of Man. And irrational demands
were apt to cause trouble. Pride was irrational, and so was the greater
part of human misery.

Therefore, in minor matters, the government had provided a safety valve
for irrational requests. Only in minor matters, men still decided
important issues. But in the innumerable small decisions that had to be
made daily, robots would set aside their logical process if a strong
emotion were present.

"Pa," said Wilbur from the corner in which he had been squirming
sleepily.

"Not now, Wilbur," growled Marcus. "I suppose you're hungry." In his
mind he was composing the request. It was unlike anything he'd written.

"I think there's something in the kitchen," said Chloe, but Marcus
hastily refused. Even on her salary she couldn't afford to serve eggs.

Mary Ellen came in just then. She slouched in dispiritedly, cloak
drooping about her. "Hi, sis," she said as she opened the door.

Then she saw Marcus and revived abruptly. She flung herself across the
room and into his lap, wrapping her arms around him. "Mark, dear," she
said, smiling cattily over his head at her sister.

Marcus sighed regretfully. Heaven knew what the boy in his innocence
would tell his mother. He worked himself loose from the girl's embrace
and explained why he was here.

"Then we're going to Messy Row?"

"In a few months," said Chloe. "Marcus is setting up a perpetual fund to
help those who can't pay their fare."

"Oh, I'll go," said Mary Ellen, looking steadily at Marcus. "But you
needn't expe