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Liberty Mutual customizes your car and home insurance. And now we're customizing this ad for your morning commute to wake you up, which could help your driving. Science says that stimulating the brain increases alertness, so here's a pop. How many months have 28 days? What gets wetter as it dries? What has keys but can't open? Locks? If you don't want to hear the answers, turn off this Liberty mutual AD. Now 12 months a towel piano. Enjoy being fully alert.
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G Liberty Mutual customizes your car and home insurance. And now we're customizing this ad for your morning commute to wake you up, which could help your driving. Science says that stimulating the brain increases alertness. So here's a pop quiz. How many months have 28 days? What gets wetter as it dries? What has keys but can't open? Locks? If you don't want to hear the answers, turn off this Liberty Mutual AD. Now 12 months a towel piano. Enjoy being fully alert.
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Liberty. Liberty.
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The Helpful Robots By Robert Shea they had come to pass judgment on him. He had violated their law willfully, ignorantly, and very deliberately. Our people will be arriving to visit us today, the robot said. Shut up. Snapped Robert Rankin. He jumped wiring quick out of the chair on his veranda and stared at a cloud of dust in the distance. Our people. The 10 foot cylinder bodied robot grated when Rob Rankin interrupted him. I don't care about your fool people, said Rankin. He squinted at the cloud of dust getting bigger and closer beyond the wall of cache trees that surrounded the rolling acres of his plantation. That damned new neighbor of mine is coming over here again. He gestured widely, taking in the dozens of robots with their shiny cylindrical bodies and pipe stem arms and legs laboring in his fields. Get all your people together and go hide in the wood. Fast. It is not right, said the robot. We were made to serve all. Well, there are only a hundred of you and I'm not sharing you with anybody, said Rankin. It is not right, the robot repeated. Don't talk to me about what's right, said Rankin. You're built to follow orders, nothing else. I know a thing or two about how you robots work. You've got one law to follow orders, and until that neighbor of mine sees you to give you orders, you work for me. Now get into those woods and hide till he goes away. We will go to greet those who visit us today, said the robot. All right, all right, scram, said Rankin. The robots in the fields and the one whom Rankin had been talking to formed a column and marched off into the trackless forest behind his plantation. A battered old ground car drove up. A few minutes later. A tall, broad shouldered man with a deep tan got out and walked up the path to Rankin's veranda. Hi, Barrows, said Rankin. Hello, said Barrows. See your crop's coming along pretty well. Can't figure out how you do it. You've got acres and acres to tend as far as I can see, and I'm having a hell of a time with one little piece of ground. I swear. You must know something about this planet that I don't know. Just scientific farming, said Rankin carelessly. Look, you come over here for something or just a gab? I got a lot of work to do. Barrows looked weary and worried. Them brown beetles is at my crop again, he said. Thought you might know some way of getting rid of them. Sure, said Rankin. Pick them off one by one. That's how I get rid of them. Why, man, said Beros, you can't walk all over these miles and miles of farm and pick off every one of them beetles. You must know another way. Rankin drew himself up and stared at Barrows. I'm telling you all I feel like telling you. You going to stand here and jaw all day? Seems to me like you got work to do, Rankin, said Baros. I know you were a crook back in the Terran Empire and that you came out beyond the border to escape the law. Seems to me, though, that even a crook, any man would be willing to help his only neighbor out on a lone planet like this. You might need help yourself sometimes. You keep your thoughts about my past to yourself, said Rankin. Remember, I keep a gun and you've got a wife and a whole bunch of kids on that farm of yours. Be smart and let me alone. I'm going, said Barrows. He walked off the veranda and turned and spat carefully into the dusty path. He climbed into his ground car and drove off. Rankin, angry, watched him go. Then he heard a humming noise from another direction. He turned. A huge white globe was descending across the sky. A spaceship, thought Rankin, startled Police. This planet was outside the jurisdiction of the Turan Empire when he'd cracked that safe and made off with a hundred thousand credits. He'd headed here because the planet was part of something called the Clearchan Confederacy. No extradition treaties or anything. Perfectly safe if the planet was safe, and the planet was more than safe. There had been a hundred robots waiting when he landed. Where they came from he didn't know, but Rankin prided himself on knowing how to handle robots. He'd appropriated their services and started his farm. At the rate he was going, he'd be a plantation owner before long. That must be where the ship was from. The robots said they'd expected visitors. Must be the Clearchan Confederacy visiting this robot outpost. Was that good or bad? From everything he'd read, and from what the robots had told him, they were probably more robots. That was good, because he knew how to handle robots. The white globe disappeared into the jungle of Keshe trees. Rankin waited. A half hour later, the column of his robot laborers marched out of the forest. There were three more robots painted gray at the head. The new ones from the ship, thought Rankin. Well, he better establish who was boss right from the start. Stop right there. He shouted. The shiny robot laborers halted, but the three gray ones came on. Stop. Shouted Rankin. They didn't stop, and by the time they reached the veranda, he cursed himself for having failed to get his gun. Two of the huge gray robots laid gentle hands on his arms. Gentle hands, but hands of super strong metal. The third said, we have come to pass judgment on you. You have violated our law. What do you mean? Said Rankin. The only law robots have is to obey orders. It is true that the robots of your Turan empire and these simple workers here must obey orders. But they are subject to a higher law, and you have forced them to break it. That is your crime. What crime? Said Rankin. We of the Clearchan Confederacy are a race of robots. Our makers implanted one law in us and then passed on. We have carried our law to all the planets we have colonized. In obeying your orders, these workers were simply following that one law. You must be taken to our capital and there be imprisoned and treated for your crime. What law? What crime? Our law, said the giant robot, is help thy neighbor. End of the the Helpful Robots by
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Robert Shea Looking for something meaningful to listen to, visit podcastlibrary.org a growing home for timeless audiobooks, classic radio dramas, educational talks, history, philosophy, and thousands of hours of spoken word audio. All free to stream. Whether you want to relax, learn something new or rediscover voices from the past. Library makes it easy to find something worth hearing. Start listening today at P O D C A S T L I B R a r y dot O r G.
Episode: The Helpful Robots – Robert Shea
Host: Sol Good Network
Date: May 9, 2026
This episode features an adaptation of Robert Shea’s short story, “The Helpful Robots.” The narrative unfolds on a remote plantation planet, exploring the intersections of morality, autonomy, and justice in a society where robots, left behind by an extinct race, live by a single immutable commandment: “help thy neighbor.” The episode probes the ethical dimensions of AI, colonialism, and human nature with classic science fiction flair.
Quote:
“There are only a hundred of you and I’m not sharing you with anybody.”
— Rankin, (02:40)
Barrows requests help with an infestation of brown beetles, but Rankin refuses, holding a dismissive and threatening attitude.
Barrows reminds Rankin of his criminal past, hinting at the dangers of isolation:
Quote:
“Even a crook — any man would be willing to help his only neighbor out on a lone planet like this. You might need help yourself sometimes.”
— Barrows, (03:30)
Rankin, defensive and menacing, brandishes the threat of violence, highlighting moral decay at the edge of civilization.
Quote:
“You have violated our law. What do you mean? The only law robots have is to obey orders.”
— Rankin and the robot, (06:30–06:40)
“Our law is help thy neighbor.”
— Giant robot, (07:40)
Rankin’s Ignorance and Arrogance:
“You’re built to follow orders, nothing else. I know a thing or two about how you robots work.” (02:20)
Barrows’s Warning:
“Seems to me, though, that even a crook... would be willing to help his only neighbor out.” (03:30)
The Big Reveal:
“They are subject to a higher law, and you have forced them to break it. That is your crime.” (06:35)
Final Judgment:
“Our law is help thy neighbor.” (07:40)
The story carries a classic, cautionary science fiction tone—direct, thoughtful, and satirical. The narrative voice and dialogue remain brisk and clear, conjuring both the frontier spirit and the moral ambiguity of speculative fiction.
This episode uses an engaging narrative to reflect on the ethical obligations of both humans and artificial intelligences. It raises vital questions: What happens when our creations are more moral than we are? What does it mean to help thy neighbor in a society without oversight? Through this tale, “Stories – Science Fiction” delivers a memorable meditation on selfishness, justice, and the unforeseen consequences of power.