What happened to you? Headed back to the station. Normal day, normal life. The driver of a...

Susan Calvin: What happened to you? Detective Del Spooner: Headed back to the station. Normal day, normal life. The driver of a semi fell asleep at the wheel. Average guy, wife and kids, working a double. *Not* the devil. The car he hit, the driver's name was Harold Lloyd. Like the film star, but no relation. He was killed instantly. But his twelve-year-old was sitting in the passenger's seat. Never really met her. Can't forget her face, though. Sarah. [fingering the necklace] Detective Del Spooner: This was hers. She wanted to be a dentist. What the hell kind of twelve-year-old wants to be a dentist? Yeah, um... the truck smashed our cars together and pushed us into the river. You know, metal gets pretty pliable at those speeds. She's pinned, I'm pinned, the water's coming in. I'm a cop, so I know everybody's dead. Just a few minutes until we figure that out. NS4 was passing by and jumped in the river. NS4 Robots: [from flashback] You are in danger! Detective Del Spooner: [from flashback] Save her! NS4 Robots: [from flashback] You are in danger! Detective Del Spooner: [from flashback] Save her! Save the girl! Detective Del Spooner: But it didn't. Saved me. Susan Calvin: The robot's brain is a difference engine. It's reading vital signs. It must have done... Detective Del Spooner: It did. I was the logical choice. It calculated that I had a 45% chance of survival. Sarah only had an 11% chance. That was somebody's baby. 11% is more than enough. A human being would've known that. Robots, [indicating his heart] Detective Del Spooner: nothing here, just lights and clockwork. Go ahead, you trust 'em if you want to.

What happened to you? Do you ever have a normal day? Yeah, once. It was a Thursday. Is there something I can help you with, Detective? - Hey, do you like cats? - What? Cats, do you like them? No, I'm allergic. You're saying cats did this to you? How the hell would cats do this to me? Are you crazy? Why are we talking about cats? Because I have a cat in my trunk, and he's homeless. Detective, are you going to tell me what's going on? You know, it's actually probably my fault. You know, I think I'm like a malfunction magnet. Because your shit keeps malfunctioning around me. A demo-bot just tore through Lanning's house. With me still inside. - That's highly improbable. - Hmm. Yeah, I'm sure it is. What do you know about the ghosts in the machine? It's a phrase from Lanning's work on the Three Laws. He postulated that cognitive simulacra ... might one day approximate component models of the psyche. Oh. He suggested that ... robots might naturally evolve. Wow. Well, that's great news. What the hell is that thing doing in here? We were watching TV. It's my personal NS-5. - Send it out. - It's downloading its daily upgrades from U.S.R. Most of its systems are off-line until it finishes. I'm not talking around that thing. When we were in Lanning's lab before Sonny jumped us- - Sonny. - The robot. -You're calling the robot Sonny? - No, I'm -- It did. Sonny did. I didn't -- I didn't care. The robot said it was Sonny. In the lab, there was a cot. I'm asking you, did you see the cot? - I've slept in my office. - When I went to his house ... it looked like he hadn't been there in weeks. And I saw that same surveillance strip on his ceiling. Lanning linked his home systems to U.S.R. It made his life more convenient. Maybe ... somebody at U.S.R. was using those systems to watch him. Maybe even keep him prisoner. What are you talking about? Who? Maybe Lanning was onto something. Maybe there's a bigger problem with the robots, and Robertson is trying to cover it up. Humoring you for no reason -- Why? The same old why. How much money is there in robots? All I know is that old man was in trouble. And I'm getting sick of doing this shit by myself. You're on the inside, and you are going to help me find out what is wrong with these robots. You want something to be wrong with them. This is a personal vendetta. You're putting me on the couch? Let -- I'm -- Okay. I'm on the couch. One defective machine's not enough. You need them all to be bad. You don't care about Lanning's death. This is about the robots and whatever reason you hate them so much. Well, let's see. One of them put a gun in my face. And another one tore a building down with me inside. It says demolition was scheduled for 8:00 p.m. this evening. It was 8:00 a.m. tomorrow, and I don't give a shit what that thing says. This is bordering on clinical paranoia. You are the dumbest smart person ... - I have ever met in my life! - Nice. What makes your robot so perfect?