I am a robot, a contrivance of wheels and wires, but I have also that human attribute of “emotion.” This was proven—to me at least—by one thing.
When my reprieve came, I fainted.
I had been marching down the jail hall in that “last long mile,” between guards. Ahead of me waited the electric chair, for the “murder” of my creator, Dr. Link. I saw, through the open door, the solemn group of witnesses, and the electrical machine in which I would sit, in another moment, and have my brain burned to blankness by surging, searing energy. My metal face shows no emotion. But within, my thoughts were sad, bitter. I had been ordered by man to get out of his world.
And then, suddenly, shouts in back. People running up. A court official in the lead was yelling for the governor, who had come from the
