quickly scanned the title, Robot Slaves in a World Economy by Philpott Asimov II .

“If you’re caught reading that thing they’ll execute you on the spot. Better stick it between the insulation on your generator, you can always burn it if you’re picked up.

“Read it when you’re alone, it’s got a lot of things in it that you know nothing about. Robots aren’t really inferior to humans, in fact they’re superior in most things. There is even a little history in there to show that robots aren’t the first ones to be treated as second class citizens. You may find it a little hard to believe, but human beings once treated each other just the way they treat robots now. That’s one of the reasons I’m active in this movement⁠—sort of like the fellow who was burned helping others stay away from the fire.”

He smiled a warm, friendly smile in Jon’s direction, the whiteness of his teeth standing out against the rich ebony brown of his features.

“I’m heading towards US-1, can I drop you anywheres on the way?”

“The Chainjet Building please⁠—I’m applying for a job.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Before he opened the door the driver shook hands with Jon.

“Sorry about calling you junkcan , but the crowd expected it.” He didn’t look back as he drove away.

Jon had to wait a half hour for his turn, but the receptionist finally signalled him towards the door of the interviewer’s room. He stepped in quickly and turned to face the man seated at the transplastic desk, an upset little man with permanent worry wrinkles stamped in his forehead. The little man shoved the papers on the desk around angrily, occasionally making crabbed little notes on the margins. He flashed a birdlike glance up at Jon.