Brillo asked again, “Shall I inform him of his rights, sir?”

“Officer, sir, you ain’t gonna’rrest him?” the woman half-asked, half-pleaded, her eyes swollen almost closed, barely open, but tearful.

“He came after me with a bottle,” Polchik said. “And he didn’t do you much good, neither.”

“He wass work op. Iss allright. He’s okay now. It wass joss a’argumen’. Nobody got hort.”

Brillo’s hum got momentarily higher. “Madam, you should inspect your face in my mirror.” He hummed and his skin became smoothly reflective. “My sensors detect several contusions and abrasions, particularly…”

“Skip it,” Polchik said abruptly. “Come on, Brillo, let’s go.”

Brillo’s metal hide went blank again. “I have not informed the prisoner…”

“No prisoner,” Polchik said. “No arrest. Let’s go.”

“But the data clearly shows…”

“Forget it!” Polchik turned to face the man; he was standing there looking’ uncertain, rubbing his arm. “And you, strongarm…lemme hear one more peep outta this apartment and you’ll be in jail so fast it’ll make your head swim…and for a helluva long time, too. If you get there at all. We don’t like guys like you. So I’m puttin’ the word out on you…I don’t like guys comin’ at me with bottles.”

“Sir…I…”

“Come on!”

The robot followed the cop and the apartment was suddenly silent. Flavio and Isabel looked at each other sheepishly, then he began to cry, went to her and touched her bruises with the gentlest fingers.

They went downstairs, Polchik staring and trying to figure out how it was such a massive machine could navigate the steps so smoothly. Something was going on at the base of the robot, but Polchik couldn’t get a good view of it. Dust puffed out from beneath the machine. And something sparkled.

Once on the sidewalk, Brillo said, “Sir, that man should have been arrested. He was clearly violating several statutes.”