 Where is Pete?
The robots were built to serve Man; to do his work, see to his comforts, make smooth his way. At midday some few of the blue sun's rays filtered through to the jungle floor, but now, late afternoon on the planet, the shadows were long and gloomy. Then, through the trees he saw the clearing of the camp site, the temporary home for the scout ship and the eleven men who, with Alan, were the only humans on the jungle planet, Waiamea. Beyond, nose high, stood the silver scout ship that had brought the advance exploratory party of scientists and technicians to Waiamea three days before. "I suppose," he muttered to himself, "that Pete assembled these robots in a batch and then activated them all at once, probably never living to realize that they're tuned to pick up human brain waves, too. Peggy, arriving tomorrow with the other colonists, the wives and kids! A pretty girl, Peggy, the girl he'd married just three weeks ago. The planet's double moon had risen and he could see a robot rolling slowly across the clearing in his general direction, blasting indiscriminately at whatever mind impulses came within its pickup range, birds, insects, anything. Apparently the robot hadn't sensed him yet, but Alan didn't know what the effective range of its pickup devices was. Minutes later, looking back he saw that the machine, though several hundred yards away, had altered its course and was now headed directly for him.
 Somewhere on the planet's surface, having died by the hand of his own creation.
 On the second ship with the larger group of people.  Back on his home planet, having sent his robot designs to the colony.  Somewhere on the planet's surface, having died by the hand of his own creation.  Hidden somewhere on the planet trying to escape the robot attacks.