Isaac Asimov - The Path of the Martians (Collected Stories). Isaac Asimov: the best works of the writer Lucky Starr and the rings of Saturn
Isaac Asimov
Azazel (stories)
Isaac Asimov
The stories are written in the form of conversations between Asimov and his friend George, who is able to summon a tiny demon, two centimeters tall, which he calls after the biblical demon "Azazel". George summons Azazel to grant wishes, and everything goes wrong every time.
A DEMON TWO CENTIMETERS HIGH
I met George many years ago at a literary conference. I was then struck by the strange expression of frankness and simplicity on his round, middle-aged face. It immediately seemed to me that this was exactly the person you would want to ask to guard your things when you go swimming.
He recognized me from the photographs on the covers of my books and immediately began joyfully telling me how much he liked my novels and stories, which, of course, allowed me to form an opinion of him as an intelligent person with good taste.
We shook hands and he introduced himself:
– George Knutovicher.
“Knutovicher,” I repeated to remember. - Unusual surname.
“Danish,” he said, “and very aristocratic.” I am descended from Cnut, better known as Canute, a Danish king who conquered England in the early eleventh century. The founder of my family was the son of Canute, but he, of course, was born on the wrong side of the blanket.
“Of course,” I muttered, although I didn’t understand why this was obvious.
“They named him Knut after his father,” George continued. - When he was shown to the king, the august Dane exclaimed: “God and angels, is this my heir?” “Not really,” said the court lady, who was cradling the baby. “He is illegitimate, since his mother is the washerwoman who yours...” “Ah,” the king grinned, “that evening...” And from that moment the baby became call it Whip Party. I inherited this name in a direct line, although over time it turned into Knutovicher.
George's eyes looked at me with such a hypnotic naivety that excluded the very possibility of doubt.
I offered:
- Shall we go have breakfast? - and pointed towards a luxuriously decorated restaurant, which was clearly designed for a plump wallet.
George asked:
– Don’t you think this bistro looks a little vulgar? And on the other side there is a small snack bar...
“I invite you,” I managed to add. George licked his lips and said:
“Now I see this bistro in a slightly different light, and it seems quite cozy to me. I agree. When the hot food arrived, George said:
“My ancestor Knutvecher had a son, whom he named Svein. Nice Danish name.
“Yes, I know,” I said. - King Cnut’s father’s name was Svein Forkbeard. Later this name was spelled "Sven".
George winced slightly.
– Don’t, old man, bring down your erudition on me. I am quite ready to admit that you also have some rudiments of education.
I was ashamed.
- Sorry.
He made a gesture of generous forgiveness with his hand, ordered another glass of wine and said:
“Svain Knutevener was fond of young women - a trait that all Knutovichers inherited from him, and was successful - like all of us, I might add. There is a legend that many women, having parted with him, shook their heads and remarked: “Well, he and Pig.” He was also an archmage. George stopped and asked warily: “Do you know what this title means?”
“No,” I lied, trying to hide my offensive knowledge. - Tell me.
“An archmage is a master of magic,” said George, which sounded like a sigh of relief. - Swine studied the secret sciences and occult arts. In those days it was a respectable occupation, because this vile skepticism had not yet appeared. Swine wanted to find ways to make young ladies tractable and affectionate, which is the adornment of femininity, and to avoid any manifestations of self-will or bad manners on their part.
“Ah,” I said with sympathy.
“He needed demons for this.” He learned to summon them by burning the roots of certain ferns and reciting some half-remembered spells.
– And did it help, Mr. Knutovicher?
- Just George. Of course it helped. Entire teams and hells of demons worked for him. The fact was that, as he often complained, the women of those times were rather stupid and narrow-minded, and they greeted his statements that he was the grandson of a king with mocking remarks about the nature of his origin. When the demon got involved, the truth was revealed to them that royal blood is always royal blood.
I asked:
“And are you sure, George, that’s how it happened?”
“Of course, because last summer I found his book of recipes for summoning demons.” She was in an old ruined English castle that once belonged to our family. The book listed the exact names of ferns, methods of burning, burning speed, spells, intonations of their pronunciation - in a word, everything. This book is written in Old English, or rather Anglo-Saxon, but since I'm a bit of a linguist...
Here I could not hide some skepticism:
- Are you joking?
He looked at me proudly and bewildered:
- Why did you decide so? Am I giggling? The book is real and I tested the recipes myself.
- And they called the demon.
“Of course,” he said, pointing meaningfully to the breast pocket of his jacket.
- There, in your pocket?
George ran his fingers through his pocket, clearly about to nod, but suddenly felt something, or the lack of something. He reached into his pocket with his fingers.
“Gone,” George said with displeasure. - Dematerialized. But you can't blame him for this. He was here with me last night because he was, you know, curious about this conference. I gave him some whiskey from a dropper and he liked it. Perhaps he even liked it too much, because he wanted to fight with the cockatoo in the cage above the bar, and in his squeaky voice he began to shower the poor bird with vile insults. Fortunately, he fell asleep before the offended party could react. He didn't look his best this morning and I think he went home, wherever that was, to get better.
I was slightly indignant:
“Are you telling me that you carry a demon in your breast pocket?”
– Your ability to immediately grasp the essence is admirable.
- And what size is it?
- Two centimeters.
– What kind of demon is this, two centimeters in size!
“Small,” said George. “But as the old saying goes, a little demon is better than no demon.”
- Depends on what mood he's in.
- Well, Azazel - that's his name - is a pretty friendly demon. I suspect he is looked down upon by his fellow tribesmen, which is why he goes out of his way to impress me with his power. He only refuses to give me wealth, although for the sake of old friendship he should have long ago. But no, he insists that all his power should only be used for the benefit of others.
- Come on, George. This is clearly not a hell of a philosophy.
George put his finger to his lips:
- Hush, old man. Don't say that out loud - Azazel will be incredibly offended. He claims that his country is blessed, worthy and highly civilized, and with reverence he mentions a ruler whose name he does not pronounce, but calls the One-in-All.
– And he actually does good?
- Wherever he can. For example, the story of my goddaughter, Juniper Pen...
- Juniper Pen?
- Yes. I can see in your eyes that you would like to hear about this incident, and I will be happy to tell you about it.
In those days (so George said) Juniper Pen was a big-eyed sophomore, a young, pleasant girl, and was fond of basketball, or rather, the basketball team - all of them were tall and handsome guys.
And most of all from this team, Leander Thompson attracted her girlish dreams. He was tall, well-built, with large hands that so deftly grasped a basketball or any object that had the shape and size of a basketball that somehow Juniper came to mind. At the games, sitting among the fans, she addressed all her screams to him alone.
Juniper shared her sweet dreams with me because, like all young women - even those who were not my goddaughters - she felt a craving for frankness when she saw me. It's probably because of my manner of keeping myself warm but dignified.
“Oh, Uncle George,” she told me, “there’s nothing wrong with me dreaming about the future for Leander and me.” I can already see how he will be the greatest basketball player in the world, the beauty and pride of professional sports, with a long-term contract for a huge amount. I don't want too much. All I need from life is a three-story mansion covered with vines, a small garden reaching to the horizon, several servants - two or three platoons, no more, and a small wardrobe with dresses for any occasion, for any day of the week, for any season, etc. ..
I was forced to interrupt her charming cooing:
“Baby,” I said. - There is a small discrepancy in your plans. Leandre isn't that good of a basketball player, and it doesn't look like he's going to get a huge contract.
“But it’s so unfair,” she pouted. - Why isn't he such a good player?
- Because the world works that way. Why don't you transfer your youthful enthusiasm to some truly cool player? Or, for example, a young Wall Street broker with access to inside...
Thor was the first robot not to lose his mind. However, it would be better if he followed the example of his predecessors.
The most difficult thing, of course, is to create a sufficiently complex thinking machine, and at the same time not too complex. The Bolder-4 robot satisfied this requirement, but less than three months later it began to behave mysteriously: it answered at random and almost all the time it looked blankly into space. When he truly became dangerous to others, the Company decided to take its own measures. Of course, it was impossible to destroy a robot made of duralumin: Bolder-4 was buried in cement. Before the cement mass hardened, Mars 2 had to be thrown into it.
The robots acted, that's for sure. But only for a limited time. Then something in their brain went bad and they went out of order. The company couldn't even use their parts. It was impossible to soften the hardened plastic alloy even with the help of an autogen. And so twenty-eight crazed robots rested in cement pits that reminded Chief Engineer Harnaan of Reading Gaol.
– And their graves are nameless! - Harnaan exclaimed solemnly, stretching out on the sofa in his office and blowing smoke rings.
Harnaan was a tall man with tired eyes, always frowning. And this is not surprising in the era of giant trusts, always ready to gnaw at each other's throats for the sake of economic dominance. The struggle between the trusts was in some ways reminiscent of the times of feudal strife. If any company was defeated, the winner annexed it and - “woe to the vanquished!”
Van Damme, who could most likely be called an emergency engineer, was biting his nails as he sat on the edge of the table. He looked like a dwarf, short, dark-skinned, with an intelligent, wrinkled face, as impassive as that of the robot Thor, who stood motionless against the wall.
- How do you feel? - Van Damme asked, looking at the robot. Has your brain deteriorated yet?
“My brain is fine,” Thor answered. - Ready to solve any problem.
Harnaan turned onto his stomach.
- OK. Then solve this: The Laxingham company stole Dr. Sadler from us, along with his formula for increasing tensile strength for an iron substitute. This scoundrel stuck with us because he was paid more here. They gave him a raise, and he switched to Laxingham.
Thor nodded.
– Did he have a contract here?
- Fourteen-X-seven. A typical contract for metallurgists. Virtually indissoluble.
“The court will be on our side.” But Laxingham plastic surgeons will be quick to change Sadler's appearance and fingerprints. The case will drag on... for two years. During this time, Laxingham will squeeze everything he can out of his formula for increasing tensile strength for an iron substitute.
Van Damme made a terrible grimace.
- Solve this problem, Thor.
He glanced briefly at Harnaan. They both knew what was about to happen. It was not in vain that they placed their hope in Thor.
“We’ll have to use force,” said Thor. - You need a formula. A robot is not answerable to the law - this has been the case until now. I will visit Laxingham.
Before Harnaan had time to reluctantly mutter, “Okay,” Tora was already gone. The chief engineer frowned.
“Yes, I know,” Van Damme nodded. - He'll just come in and steal the formula. And we will again be held accountable for producing cars that are impossible to drive.
– Is brute force the best logical solution?
– Probably the simplest. The Thor does not need to invent complex methods that do not contradict the laws. After all, this is an indestructible robot. He will simply walk into Laxingham and take the formula. If the court finds Thor dangerous, we can bury him in cement and make new robots. He doesn’t have his own “I,” you know. It doesn't matter to him.
“We expected more,” Harnaan grumbled. - A thinking machine must come up with a lot of things.
“Thor can come up with a lot of things.” So far he hasn't lost his mind like the others. He solved any problem we threw at him, even that crooked development trend that baffled everyone else.
Harnaan nodded.
- Yes. He predicted that Snowmany would be chosen... that got the company out of trouble. He can think, that's for sure. I bet there is no problem he can't solve. Still, Thor isn't creative enough.
– If the opportunity arises... - Van Damme suddenly deviated from the topic. After all, we have a monopoly on robots. And that's already something. Perhaps it's time to put new robots like Thor on the conveyor belt.
- We'd better wait a little. Let's see if Thor loses his mind. So far it is the most difficult of all the ones we have had.
The video phone on the table suddenly came to life. Screams and swearing were heard.
- Harnaan! Oh, you lousy scoundrel! Dishonorable murderer! You...
“I’m recording your words, Blake!” - the engineer shouted, standing up. - In less than an hour, charges of libel will be brought against you.
- Excite and be damned! - Blake screamed from the Laxingham company. “I’ll come and break your monkey’s jaw!” I swear to God, I will burn you and spit on your ashes!
“Now he’s threatening to kill me,” Harnaan said loudly to Van Damme. I'm lucky to be able to record it all on film.
Blake's crimson face began to blur on the screen. However, before it completely disappeared, something else appeared in its place - the clean-shaven, polite face of Yale, the head of the police station. Yale seemed concerned.
“Listen, Mr. Harnaan,” he said sadly, “this won’t do.” Let's talk sensibly, okay? After all, I am the guardian of the law here...
–... and I can’t allow self-harm. Maybe your robot has lost its mind? - he asked hopefully.
- Robot? - Harnaan repeated with surprise. - I don't understand. What robot are you talking about?
Yale sighed.
- About Thor. Of course, about the Torah. Who else? Now I understand, you don't know anything about this. - He even dared to say it in a slightly sarcastic tone. - Thor came to Laxingham and turned everything upside down.
- Really?
- Well, yes. He walked straight into the building. Security tried to detain him, but he simply pushed everyone aside and continued walking. They aimed a flamethrower at him, but that didn't stop him. In Laxingham they took out all the defensive weapons they had in their arsenal, and this devilish robot of yours kept walking and walking. He grabbed Blake by the collar, forced him to unlock the laboratory door, and took the formula from one of the employees.
“It’s amazing,” said the amazed Harnaan. - By the way, who is this employee? Isn't his last name Sadler?
– I don’t know... wait a minute. Yes, Sadler.
“So Sadler works for us,” explained the engineer. - We have an ironclad contract with him. Any formula he deduces belongs to us.
Yale wiped his cheeks, which were glistening with sweat, with a handkerchief.
- Mr. Harnaan, please! - he said in despair. - Just think what my position is! I am legally obligated to do something. You should not allow your robot to commit such violence. This is too... too...
- Does it hit you in the eyes? - suggested Harnaan. - So I explained to you that all this is news to me. I'll check and call you. By the way, I'm filing charges against Blake. Slander and death threat.
- Oh my God! - Yale exclaimed and turned off the device.
Van Damme and Harnaan exchanged glances of admiration.
“Great,” chuckled the gnome-like emergency service engineer. Blake will not bombard us - both our and their air defenses are too strong. So the case will go to court. To court!
He smiled wryly.
Harnaan lay down on the sofa again.
- We did it. Now we need to decide to throw all our efforts at such robots. In ten years the Company will dominate the entire world. And over other worlds too. We will be able to launch spaceships controlled by robots.
Isaac Asimov
Early Asimov
(Storybook)
Insidious Callisto
The Callistan Menace (1940)
Translation: T. Ginzburg
Damn Jupiter! - Ambroue Whitefield muttered angrily, and I nodded in agreement.
“I’ve been on the routes around Jupiter for fifteen years,” I answered, “and I’ve probably heard these two words a million times.” There must be no better way to relieve one's soul in the entire solar system.
We had just taken a shift from our shift in the instrument compartment of the space reconnaissance vessel Ceres and wearily trudged back to our place.
Damn Jupiter, damned Jupiter! - Whitefield repeated gloomily. - It's too huge. It sticks out here, behind our backs, and pulls, and pulls, and pulls! You have to go the whole way on a nuclear engine, constantly, hourly checking the course. No respite for you, no inertial flight, not a moment of relaxation! Just one damn job!
He wiped away the sweat that had formed on his forehead with the back of his hand. He was a young guy, no older than thirty, and in his eyes one could read excitement, even some fear.
And the point here, despite all the curses, was not about Jupiter. We were least worried about Jupiter. It was Callisto! It was this small light blue moon on our screens, a satellite of the giant Jupiter, that caused sweat to form on Whitefield’s forehead and had been preventing me from sleeping peacefully for four nights. Callisto! Our destination!
Even old Mac Steeden, the gray-moustached veteran who in his youth had walked with the great Peavy Wilson himself, stood watch with a vacant air. Four days away, and there are still ten ahead, and panic is digging its claws into the soul...
All eight of us - the crew of the Ceres - were brave enough in the normal course of things. We did not retreat from the dangers of half a dozen alien worlds. But it takes more than just courage to face the unknown, Callisto, this “mysterious trap” of the solar system.
In fact, only one ominous, precise fact was known about Callisto. In twenty-five years, seven ships, each more advanced than the last, flew there and disappeared. The Sunday newspaper supplements populated the satellite with all sorts of creatures, from super dinosaurs to invisible creatures from the fourth dimension, but this did not clear up the mystery.
Our expedition was the eighth. We had the best ship, for the first time made not of steel, but of a twice as strong alloy of beryllium and tungsten. We had super-powerful weapons and the most modern atomic engines.
But... but still we were only eighth, and everyone understood it.
Whitefield silently fell onto the bed, resting his chin on his hands. His knuckles were white. It seemed to me that he was on the verge of a crisis. In such cases, a subtle diplomatic approach is required.
How did you actually end up on this expedition, Whitey? - I asked. You're probably still a bit green for this kind of thing.
Well, you know how it happens. Melancholy suddenly attacked... After college, I studied zoology - interplanetary flights unusually expanded this field of activity. I was in a good, solid position on Ganymede. But I'm tired of being there, green boredom. I enlisted in the navy, succumbing to an impulse, and then, succumbing to a second impulse, I enlisted in this expedition. - He sighed regretfully. - Now I regret it a little...
You can't leak, guy. Believe me, I am an experienced person. If you panic, you're screwed. And there are only about two months of work left, and then we will return to Ganymede again.
“I’m not afraid, if that’s what you mean,” he said offended. - I... I... He frowned silently for a long time. - In general, I was just exhausted, trying to imagine what awaits us there. These imaginary pictures completely lost my nerves.
Of course, of course,” I assured. - I don't blame you for anything. We've probably all been through this. Just try to pull yourself together. I remember once, on a flight from Mars to Titan, we...
I can write tales as well as anyone, and I particularly liked this fable, but Whitefield silenced me with a look.
Yes, we were tired, our nerves were getting worse; and that same day, as Whitefield and I were working in the pantry, lifting boxes of provisions into the kitchen, Whitey suddenly said, stammering:
I could have sworn that there were more than just boxes in that far corner, that there was something else there.
That's what your nerves did to you. In the corner, of course, the spirits, or Callistans, decided to attack us first.
I'm telling you, I saw it! There's something alive there.
He moved closer. His nerves became so tense that for a moment he even infected me; I suddenly felt creepy in this twilight too.
“You’re crazy,” I said loudly, calming myself with the sound of my own voice. - Let's go have a look there.
We started throwing around lightweight aluminum containers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Whitefield trying to move the box closest to the wall.
This one is not empty. - Muttering under his breath, he lifted the lid and froze for half a second. Then he stepped back and, stumbling upon something, sat down, still not taking his eyes off the box.
Not understanding what struck him so much, I also looked there - and was stunned, unable to hold back my scream.
A red head stuck out of the box, followed by a dirty boyish face.
“Hello,” said a boy of about thirteen, climbing out. We were still dumbfoundedly silent, and he continued: “I’m glad you found me.” All my muscles are already cramped from this pose.
Whitefield swallowed loudly and convulsively:
Dear God! Boy! "Hare"! And we are flying to Callisto!
And we can’t turn back,” I said chokedly. Turning around between Jupiter and a satellite is suicide.
Listen,” Whitefield attacked the boy with unexpected belligerence, “you, head, two ears, who are you anyway and what are you doing here?”
The boy cowered, apparently a little scared.
I'm Stanley Fields. From New Chicago, from Ganymede. I... I ran away into space, like in the books. - And, his eyes sparkling, he asked: “How do you think, Mister, will we have a clash with the pirates?”
Without a doubt, his head was confused by “cosmic boulevard”. At his age, I also read it.
What will your parents say? - Whitefield frowned.
I only have an uncle. I don't think it bothered him that much. - He had already overcome his fear and smiled at us.
Well, what should we do with it? - Whitefield turned to me in confusion.
I shrugged.
Take him to the captain. Let the captain rack his brains.
How will he take it?
What do we care! We have nothing to do with it. And there’s nothing you can do about such a thing.
Together we dragged the boy to the captain.
Real name Isaac Yudovich Ozimov is an American writer. Author of books in the genres of science fiction, detective, and fantasy. Winner of prestigious awards such as Hugo 65 for “best science fiction series of all time” and Nebula for the novel “The Gods Themselves”.
Born in Russia on January 2, 1920, near Smolensk. Parents migrated to America in 1923. Settled in Brooklyn. Father and mother were millers by profession and after a few years they had the opportunity to purchase a confectionery shop.
The parents instilled in the child a love of work, which became Isaac’s hallmark as a writer and scientist who wrote more than 500 books on various topics during his life..
He was sent to school at the age of five, one year earlier, since his mother corrected his date of birth in the documents. He learned to read very early and at the age of six he was enrolled in the library, where he read everything in large quantities.
One day he came across one of the first issues of the science fiction periodical Amazing Stories. This made a huge impression on young Isaac, and at the age of 12 he wrote his first science fiction stories.
Asimov was noted for his amazing learning abilities. I graduated from primary school at 11 instead of the required 15 years old with all sorts of honors. Isaac's unique feature was that he memorized a huge amount of material and never forgot it again.
He studied first in college, then moved to Columbia University in New York, where he received a master's degree in chemistry. From the age of 18, he kept a diary and wrote it until the end of his life, which helped him write three autobiographical books.
During World War II, he worked as a chemist in a Philadelphia shipyard with Robert Heinlein, the famous science fiction writer. After the end of the war, he served in the unit that tested the atomic bomb.
Impressions from military service shaped anti-war views . All his life he actively campaigned for peace and friendship between countries. Asimov was successful in many fields of science from biology to mathematics, and wrote many scientific and artistic works.
His work in science fiction has transcended fiction. The “three laws” he formulated for robots served as the basis for their programming and mass production.
- A robot cannot cause harm to a person or, through inaction, allow a person to be harmed.
- A robot must obey all orders given by a human unless those orders conflict with the First Law.
- A robot must take care of its own safety to the extent that this does not contradict the First or Second Laws.
On April 6, 1992, his heart stopped beating. The literary and scientific phenomenon of Isaac Asimov did not go unnoticed by the general public. Readers loved and continue to love him because he cheerfully, witty, and easily presented truths that were difficult for ordinary people, revealing a fantastic view of an extraordinary world..
Worldwide Isaac Asimov they know and love only because blockbusters such as I am a robot, where the leading role was played by the wonderful actor Will Smith and Bicentennial Man. Asimov's books are rightfully considered classics. He was born near Smolensk, in the town of Petrovichi, on January 2, 1920, his original first and last name was Isaac Ozimov. In 1923, he and his family emigrated to America, where he studied and subsequently worked. Along with his creative career, the writer teaches at the Medical School. In addition to the fact that he is simply a famous science fiction writer with five hundred books under his belt, he is also the owner of many awards and prizes, the most prestigious of which are five Hugo Awards and two Nebula Awards. The most famous stories of Asimov are considered to be a series of stories about robots, a series of stories “Academy”, “Caves of Steel”, “The Naked Sun”, “The Gods Themselves”, stories about the adventures of Lucky Starr and others. Thanks to the public's trust in him as a popularizer of science fiction and technological progress, many terms from his works (robotics, positronics, psychohistory) have come into common use and are now used in scientific language.
The most interesting things in his stories and novels are the relationships between people and... Artificial organisms, created by man in order to serve people in everything, suddenly acquire human traits, emotions, feelings, if you like, even a soul. It is unknown why this happens - because of a gross mistake by the designer or because a person created, without knowing it, a new living organism. Everyone draws their own conclusion. Dry science fiction, in his case, acquires the facets of philosophy and a subject for reflection.
Isaac Asimov lived for 72 years and on April 6, 1992 in New York, the famous, brilliant and simply good writer was no longer with us.
You can buy Isaac Asimov's books in the online store.
Isaac Asimov books, novels, stories:
1. Hellfire
2. Ah, Batten, Batten!
3. Academy
4. Academy and Empire
5. Academy and land
6. Academy on the brink of destruction
7. Alexander Bog
8. He's coming!
9. Azazel
10. Immortal bard
11. Billiard ball
12. Good intention
13. Brother
14. You will be pleased!
15. Letter of the law
16. The price of risk
17. Black monks of the flame
18. What if...
19. What's in a name
20. What is this thing - love
21. Whatever we remember
22. Feeling powerful
23. Let's unite
24. Old-fashioned way
25. A matter of principle
26. Demon two centimeters tall
27. Hunter's Day
28. Nine Tomorrow
29. Think
30. Breath of Death
31. Driving force
32. Bicentennial Man
33. David Starr - Space Ranger
34. Fantastic Journey
35. Galatea
36. Guaranteed pleasure
37. Eye of the Observer
38. The eyes are given more than just seeing
39. Depth
40. Anniversary
41. Talking stone
42. Homo sol
43. Round dance
44. Mistress
45. True love
46. History
47. How much fun they had
48. How to catch a rabbit
49. How the robot got lost
50. Like fish in water
51. What a pity!
52. What does a bee care?!
53. Caliban
54. Every explorer
55. Muslin vultures
56. Key
57. Someday
58. Who gets the trophies
59. End of Eternity
60. Cosmic currents
61. What time is it?
62. Insidious Callisto
63. Who will walk his path faster
64. Cal
65. Lucky Starr and the big sun of Mercury
66. Lucky Starr and the rings of Saturn
67. Lucky Starr and the moons of Jupiter
68. Lucky Starr and the Oceans of Venus
69. Lucky Starr and the Asteroid Pirates
70. Logic
71. Logic is logic
72. Trap for simpletons
73. Boy's best friend
74. Lanny
75. Liar
76. The car is a winner
77. Pendulum
78. Dreams are everyone’s private matter
79. Robot dreams
80. Dead past
81. A place where there is a lot of water
82. Imaginary quantities
83. My son is a physicist
84. Youth
85. Flies
86. On the way to the academy
87. Found
88. Not forever
89. Never-before-seen
90. Obituary
91. Nemesis
92. Necessary condition
93. Unexpected victory
94. Vague rumble
95. The Night That Dies
96. New toy
97. About the dangers of drunkenness
98. Naked sun
99. They won't arrive
100. A fragment of the universe
101. Witty
102. Walter Seals' discovery
103. In memory of my father
104. Foie gras
105. Pause
106. Monkey finger
107. First law
108. Write my name with the letter C
109. In the snow, in the soft
110. Buying Jupiter
111. Flight of fancy
112. Last question
113. Permanent position
114. Singing bell
115. Prelude to the Academy
116. Coming of night
117. Funny
118. Profession
119. Trifle
120. The Path of the Martians
121. Slave of proofreading
122. Solvable contradiction
123. Risk
124. Robbie
125. The robot who dreamed
126. Robot EL-76 ends up in the wrong place
127. Robots and Empire
128. Robots of the dawn
129. Robots of the dawn
130. Christmas without relatives
131. S-gateway
132. Sally
133. The gods themselves
134. Secret mission
135. Compassionate vultures
136. Strikebreaker
137. Power of habit
138. Too scary weapon
139. Death sentence
140. Let's get together
141. Modern Wizard
142. Savior of humanity
143. Steel caves
144. Segregationist
145. Wanderer in Paradise
146. Mad scientist
147. Svetovirshi
148. Such a beautiful day
149. Thiotimoline and the space age
150. Point of view
151. Three-four
152.Three laws of robotics
153. The Thirteenth Day of Christmas
154. Trumpet voice
155. Deadlock
156. Murder ABC
157. Guessing a thought
158. A smile that brings grief
159. Evidence
160. Ugly boy
161. In the fourth generation
162. In the summer of 2430
163. In the summer of 2430 AD
164. Captured by Vesta
165. Valhalla
166. Faith
167. Spring battles
168. Elections
169. Way out of the situation
170. Human Removal
171. Take a match
172. Time to write
173. All the sins of the world
174. Just one concert
175. Following the black queen
176. Insert cotter pin A into socket B
177. Second Academy
178. I'm in Marsoport without Hilda
179. Remember him
180. Everest
181. Professor Neddring's problem
182. A hitch at the tercentenary celebrations
183. Lost at Vesta
184. There is no one here except...
185. Mirror image
186. Women's intuition
187. Stars like dust
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