Isaac Asimov: Norby The Mixed-Up Robot

"Birds don't care."

"But don't these human beings have anything better to do?"

"Watching birds is a good action. Would you rather they stood about and littered?"

"Birds litter. They-"

"Shut up, Norby."

The leading human, an elderly lady in tweeds, stopped beside the fishpond. "Here," she said, "is a good place to watch for owls. We've had them in Central Park for the last century. Before that, they would stop here occasionally, but wouldn't stay. There were always enough rats and mice for them to eat, but either the air was too polluted or the city was too noisy. Either way, they would decide that the price of a good meal was too high. Now they seem to like Manhattan, as all of us good Manhattan patriots do. At least the little screech owls do. I've been told they nest in the trees around here, and since it is not yet sunrise, there's hope we may see an owl on the move."

"I don't want to see an owl on the move," said Norby.

"What's that?" said the tweedy woman sharply. "Who said that? If there's anyone here who doesn't want to see owls, why did you come?"

"I don't like owls. They're probably scary," said Norby.

"Only if you look like a rat," whispered Jeff, "and you don't-though I wouldn't put it past you to act like one. Now keep quiet!"

"There's something behind that bush," said a boy. "Right there!"

"Muggers!" screamed a girl, waving her binoculars. "They'll knock us down and take our binoculars!"

"I don't need your binoculars," said Norby. "I have telescopic vision when I want it."

"Really?" said Jeff, fascinated. 'That could be convenient."

"Maybe they're Ing terrorists," said a man, "and they're holding a secret conference here in the park."

The group of bird-watchers was suddenly very still.

Jeff held his breath, and even Norby was quiet for a change.

At that moment, a shape detached itself from a dark tree and swooped down over the heads of the bird-watchers.

"We're being attacked by the terrorists," yelled the same man who had mentioned them before.

The woman in tweeds stood transfixed, clasping her hands. She didn't seem the least bit frightened-only excited. "Look! Look! It's a great gray owl! A Canadian! It's rarely seen this far south! My first Central Park sighting!"

The other bird-watchers paid no attention. They were scrambling back up the path, clutching their binoculars. "Let's go back," one of them shouted. "What's the use of watching birds when terrorists are watching us. "

Jeff couldn't bear to ruin the bird-watching. He didn't particularly want to get involved, but he had no choice. He stood up, facing the bird-watching leader. "I'm not a terrorist, ma 'am, or a mugger, either. I'm here to celebrate the summer solstice. A family tradition."

"Oh my," said the woman. 'The owl is gone."

"I hope so," said Norby. "It was big enough to decide I was a mouse."

Jeff pushed Norby with his elbow. "I'd be ashamed to be afraid of a little bird."

"A little bird? Its wings were twelve feet across!"

"Quiet!" said Jeff, and Norby subsided, muttering.

"Perhaps you'll see it again, ma'am," Jeff said.

"I certainly hope so. Seeing it even once was the thrill of my life-but what is that behind the bush?"

"That's-uh-sort of my baby brother. He scares easily."

"I do not," said Norby. "I'm as brave as a spacer."

"As a what?" asked the woman.

"He said he's brave. He's not afraid of anything as long as he knows he can run away."

"I'm as brave as a lion," shouted Norby.

"He's never even seen a lion."

"I've seen lions in pictures," Norby said. "Mac had an old encyclopedia on his ship. I know how to be brave. I don't run from danger."

"Your baby brother talks quite well for someone so small," said the woman, edging toward the bush.

"He's a prodigy," Jeff said, blocking her off, "but he's very shy. You'll embarrass him very much if you come too close. Of course, he does talk a lot, but that's only because he has a big hat-mouth, I mean. Now I really have to start celebrating the solstice."

The woman said timidly, "I don't suppose I could watch?"

"No, you can't. You're supposed to be bird-watching, not me-watching," shouted Norby.

"He means it's just a private family ceremony," Jeff said apologetically. "It's not traditional for anyone to watch."

There came a shout from the woods. "Are you all right, Miss Higgins?"

The woman smiled. "See that. They were very afraid, but they came back to rescue me. That's very touching isn't it?" She raised her voice. "I'm perfectly all right, good friends. I will be right with you." Then, again to Jeff, "Would you like to join our group some other morning?"

"Oh, certainly," said Jeff, "but hadn't you better go back to them? They must be dying with worry for you."

"I'm sure they are. We meet every Wednesday morning and on special occasions. I'll send you a notice. What is your name and address?"

Jeff told her, and she wrote it down in a small black notebook.

Off in the distance, the owl hooted.

"This way!" called Miss Higgins to her group. "We may get another glimpse of it."

She plunged back into the darkness of the wood, and Jeff could hear that she had found her group and was leading them off on another path. Finally the park seemed deserted again, except for the small sounds of animals and the predawn twittering of birds.

"That was horrible!" Norby said.

"Not at all," Jeff said. "It was just a little delay, and a harmless one. Far worse things used to happen in good old Central Park."

"Muggers and terrorists?" Norby asked. "Tell me about them."

"They're violent people from long ago. Central Park is perfectly civilized today."

"Then why did you say you weren't supposed to go into the park at night?"

Jeff blushed. "Fargo worries about me too much. Sometimes he thinks I'm a little kid. Still, the park is civilized now. You'll see."

"I'd better see," said Norby. "I'm a very civilized object, and I prefer to avoid anything uncivilized."

Jeff stretched. He hadn't had enough sleep, but daylight was on its way, and it was the solstice. "Come on, Norby. Let's go our civilized way to the special place of the Wells brothers."

"Special place? It's yours? You own it?"

"Not really. Not legally. It sure feels ours, though. It feels deep-down ours."

"But not legally? If we're going to have trouble with policemen, I don't want to go."

"We won't have trouble with policemen," said Jeff irritably. "What do you think this is? The asteroids? Just follow me." He started to walk down another path on the other side of the fishpond, but stopped and looked back at Norby, who hadn't budged.

Jeff said, "Well then, go on your antigrav if you want to, Norby. I know walking is difficult for you."

"I can walk perfectly well when I want to," Norby said. "I like to walk. I've won walking races. I can walk higher and deeper than anyone; just not faster. Human beings think that fast is everything when it comes to walking, and they're not so fast anyway. Ostriches and kangaroos go on two legs, and they're much faster than human beings. I read about them-"

"In Mac's encyclopedia, I know. Kangaroos don't walk, they hop."

"Human beings hop, and they can't go as fast as kangaroos. Besides, they look undignified when they hop. If they had bodies like barrels, like mine, they wouldn't. Watch me when I hop."

"Okay, hop if you want to, but watch where-"

It was too late. Norby tripped over a tree root and went over headfirst. His head didn't move downward, however; his legs moved upward. His body rose in the air, upside down, legs waggling out of the upper end, eyes upside down at the lower end.

Jeff tried to be serious about it, and managed for about fifteen seconds. Then he burst out laughing.