THE ROBOT PROSPERO stepped out of the low dark building into the night. He approached the man in the pale grey uniform, the man who was standing well away from the light, near to the shore. Fiyle, the man’s name was.

Prospero moved with a careful, steady tread. He did not wish to make any sudden moves. It was plain to see that his contact was jumpy enough as it was.

The valise was heavy in Prospero’s hand, the small case packed solid. It seemed proper that it be heavy, with all the futures that were riding on this transaction. If anything, the case seemed rather light, if one considered all the freedom it would buy.

Prospero came up to the man and stopped a meter or two from him.

“That the money?” Fiyle asked, the nasal twanginess of his voice betraying his off-world origins.

“It is,” Prospero said.

“Let’s have it, then,” Fiyle said. He took the case, set it down on the ground, and opened it. He pulled a handlight from his pocket, switched it on, and directed the light down onto the bag.

“You don’t trust me,” Prospero said. It was not a question.

“No reason why I should,” Fiyle said. “You’d be willing and able to lie and cheat if you had to, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Prospero said. There was no point in denying something that everyone knew about the New Law robots. Robots that could lie. The idea seemed strange, even to Prospero.