sidewalk, her treads buzzing and flapping at a great rate.
After school Nanny was with them constantly, supervising their play, watching over them, protecting them, and at last, when it began to get dark and late, dragging them away from their games and turned in the direction of home.
Sure enough, just as dinner was being set on the table, there was Nanny, herding Bobby and Jean in through the front door, clicking and whirring admonishingly at them. Just in time for dinner! A quick run to the bathroom to wash their faces and hands.
And at night—
Mrs Fields was silent, frowning just a little. At night … ‘Tom?’ she said.
Her husband looked up from his paper. ‘What?’
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. It’s very odd, something I don’t understand. Of course, I don’t know anything about mechanical things. But Tom, at night when we’re all sleep and the house is quiet, Nanny—’
There was a sound.
‘Mommy!’ Jean and Bobby came scampering into the living room, their faces flushed with pleasure. ‘Mommy, we raced Nanny all the way home, and we won!’
‘We won,’ Bobby said. ‘We beat her.’
‘We ran a lot faster than she did,’ Jean said.
‘Where is Nanny, children?’ Mrs Fields asked.
‘She’s coming. Hello, Daddy.’
‘Hello, kids,’ Tom Fields said. He cocked his head to one side, listening. From the front porch came an odd scraping sound, an unusual whirr and scrape. He smiled.
‘That’s Nanny,’ Bobby said.
And into the room came Nanny.
Mr Fields watched her. She had always intrigued him. The only sound in the room was her metal treads, scraping against the hardwood floor, a peculiar rhythmic sound. Nanny came to a halt in front of him, stopping a few feet away. Two unwinking photocell eyes appraised him, eyes on flexible wire stalks. The stalks moved speculatively, weaving slightly. Then they withdrew.
Nanny was built in the shape of a sphere, a large metal sphere, flattened on the bottom. Her surface had been sprayed with a dull green enamel, which had become chipped and gouged through wear. There was not much visible in addition to the eye stalks. The treads could not be seen. On each side of the hull was the outline of a door. From these the magnetic grapples came, when they were needed. The front of the hull came to a point, and there the metal was reinforced. The extra plates welded both fore and aft made her look almost like a weapon of war. A tank of some kind. Or a ship, a rounded metal ship that had come up on land. Or like an insect. A sowbug, as they are called.
‘Come on!’ Bobby shouted.
Abruptly Nanny moved, spinning slightly as her treads gripped the floor and turned her around. One of her side doors opened. A long metal rod shot out. Playfully, Nanny caught Bobby’s arm with her grapple and drew him to her. She perched him on her back. Bobby’s leg straddled the metal hull. He kicked with his heels excitedly, jumping up and down.
‘Race you around the block!’ Jean shouted.
‘Giddup!’ Bobby cried. Nanny moved away, out of the room with him. A great round bug of whirring metal and relays, clicking photocells and tubes. Jean ran beside her.
There was silence. The parents were alone again.
‘Isn’t she amazing?’ Mrs Fields said. ‘Of course, robots are a common sight these days. Certainly more so than a few years ago. You see them everywhere you go, behind counters in stores, driving buses, digging ditches—’
‘But Nanny is different,’ Tom Fields murmured.
‘She’s - she’s not like a machine. She’s like a person. A living person. But after all, she’s much more complex than any other kind. She has to be. They say she’s even more intricate than the kitchen.’
‘We certainly paid enough for her,’ Tom said.
‘Yes,’ Mary Fields murmured. ‘She’s very much like a living creature.’ There was a strange note in her voice. ‘Very much so.’
‘She sure takes care of the kids,’ Tom said,
After school Nanny was with them constantly, supervising their play, watching over them, protecting them, and at last, when it began to get dark and late, dragging them away from their games and turned in the direction of home.
Sure enough, just as dinner was being set on the table, there was Nanny, herding Bobby and Jean in through the front door, clicking and whirring admonishingly at them. Just in time for dinner! A quick run to the bathroom to wash their faces and hands.
And at night—
Mrs Fields was silent, frowning just a little. At night … ‘Tom?’ she said.
Her husband looked up from his paper. ‘What?’
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. It’s very odd, something I don’t understand. Of course, I don’t know anything about mechanical things. But Tom, at night when we’re all sleep and the house is quiet, Nanny—’
There was a sound.
‘Mommy!’ Jean and Bobby came scampering into the living room, their faces flushed with pleasure. ‘Mommy, we raced Nanny all the way home, and we won!’
‘We won,’ Bobby said. ‘We beat her.’
‘We ran a lot faster than she did,’ Jean said.
‘Where is Nanny, children?’ Mrs Fields asked.
‘She’s coming. Hello, Daddy.’
‘Hello, kids,’ Tom Fields said. He cocked his head to one side, listening. From the front porch came an odd scraping sound, an unusual whirr and scrape. He smiled.
‘That’s Nanny,’ Bobby said.
And into the room came Nanny.
Mr Fields watched her. She had always intrigued him. The only sound in the room was her metal treads, scraping against the hardwood floor, a peculiar rhythmic sound. Nanny came to a halt in front of him, stopping a few feet away. Two unwinking photocell eyes appraised him, eyes on flexible wire stalks. The stalks moved speculatively, weaving slightly. Then they withdrew.
Nanny was built in the shape of a sphere, a large metal sphere, flattened on the bottom. Her surface had been sprayed with a dull green enamel, which had become chipped and gouged through wear. There was not much visible in addition to the eye stalks. The treads could not be seen. On each side of the hull was the outline of a door. From these the magnetic grapples came, when they were needed. The front of the hull came to a point, and there the metal was reinforced. The extra plates welded both fore and aft made her look almost like a weapon of war. A tank of some kind. Or a ship, a rounded metal ship that had come up on land. Or like an insect. A sowbug, as they are called.
‘Come on!’ Bobby shouted.
Abruptly Nanny moved, spinning slightly as her treads gripped the floor and turned her around. One of her side doors opened. A long metal rod shot out. Playfully, Nanny caught Bobby’s arm with her grapple and drew him to her. She perched him on her back. Bobby’s leg straddled the metal hull. He kicked with his heels excitedly, jumping up and down.
‘Race you around the block!’ Jean shouted.
‘Giddup!’ Bobby cried. Nanny moved away, out of the room with him. A great round bug of whirring metal and relays, clicking photocells and tubes. Jean ran beside her.
There was silence. The parents were alone again.
‘Isn’t she amazing?’ Mrs Fields said. ‘Of course, robots are a common sight these days. Certainly more so than a few years ago. You see them everywhere you go, behind counters in stores, driving buses, digging ditches—’
‘But Nanny is different,’ Tom Fields murmured.
‘She’s - she’s not like a machine. She’s like a person. A living person. But after all, she’s much more complex than any other kind. She has to be. They say she’s even more intricate than the kitchen.’
‘We certainly paid enough for her,’ Tom said.
‘Yes,’ Mary Fields murmured. ‘She’s very much like a living creature.’ There was a strange note in her voice. ‘Very much so.’
‘She sure takes care of the kids,’ Tom said,
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