Page 4 - Unlikely Stories 1

Nothing Left to the Imagination

cannot—bother me. My satisfaction is in the intricacies of creation as
well as the recognition of the cognoscenti. Unfortunately, fan mail
and literary accolades have affected my concentration. I would say
my allocation of attention is not what it used to be: too much of it is
being diverted from the material aspects of my field of endeavor to
more abstract and ethereal symbolic considerations. So it needs
resetting, and it involves an unbiased technician to decide exactly
where the needle should point.”
“I didn’t know a mind could be so taken over by a hobby,” said
Dick, shaking his head.
“Oh, it’s common enough among my peers.” The rubot shrugged
its massive shoulders. “Some get into music, others the graphic or
plastic arts. Many of your performing artists, whether you know it or
not, are following scripts by robots for whom show business is an
avocation. And even when our off-hours interests do conflict with
our day jobs, that psychological struggle is not what you humans used
to call a ‘curse,’ whether in jest or not; as I said, it’s simply a by-
product of our flexible intelligence.”
“And you won’t be unhappy about the correction? What if it
makes you a lesser poet?”
The rubot laughed. “It won’t do that. If anything, it will give me a
new view of things, a fresh attitude from which to launch entirely
novel flights of fancy and invention. The poets of old would envy me
that. Many of them wound up stale and frustrated trying to better
their early work, and were forced to recognize that the power and
originality of their best work stemmed from their youth and could
not be recaptured. My memories of what I’ve already done will not
be erased, but neither will they dominate any future stylistic
developments. If I go too far again, then I’ll be back here, waiting for
a rebirth of inspiration.”
“Excuse me,” interjected the robot on Dick’s right. “I couldn’t
help overhearing your conversation.” The human turned to look at it.
His other companion-in-waiting was an urbot, intended for work
in a city. With long slender limbs and drop-down wheels on its
ankles, it was optimized for getting around in busy streets and poking

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