The Ambassador of the planet Gonorra sat in the twilight of his office to observe a robot that darned socks with holes. The metal fingers, covered with a layer of soft leatherette, moved swiftly to repair any minor damage caused the pointed nails of the feet of the old Ambassador nearing retirement. On his planet did not exist beings so advanced At most, the robots of his world could do for ourselves the guardians, and even there they showed some flaw.
One question though tormented him, and long struggled to himself to keep from speaking to a being who nevertheless feel a little smarter than his wristwatch.
finally succumbed:
"Robot, Tell me: do you like your job? "
"It 's a job, sir. They are not programmed to say if I like it or not, are scheduled to run."
"Do not you get bored even a bit '? ".
" I do not know what it means to be bored while working on this sock, my mental circuits pseudo bring order in my memory banks, defragmenting disks, optimize work routines
...". "I understand: you consider yourself more a human being."
"I did not say that."
"But that's what you want me to understand: We humans do the weirdest things to combat boredom, and you Instead I say you do not even know what it is, this state of mind. "
" Yes, sir. We do not have moods.
"So his life for you, even the existence, is nothing but a series of activities without meaningless, since you do not cause nor suffering, joy or participation, nor hate. "
" I would not say so: rather, their meaning is to make the bosses happy human like you, and it meets our expectations ".
The ambassador seemed impressed by this answer: and stood for a long time, motionless in his chair heated, to taste the sweet echo in his mind, envying that prosperous world that had been delegated to lower creatures, but happy, the tasks most humble and mundane.
So did not realize all of the second robot that quietly approaching behind him brandishing a hypodermic syringe filled with curare.
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