80
Gladia said, "Are you serious, D.G.? You really intended to collide with the ship?"
"Not at all," said D.G. indifferently. "I wasn't expecting to. I merely lunged at them, knowing they would retreat. Those Spacers weren't going to risk their long, wonderful lives when they could easily preserve them."
"Those Spacers? What cowards they are."
D.G. cleared his throat. "I keep forgetting you're a Spacer, Gladia."
"Yes - and I imagine you think that that is a compliment to me. What if they had been as foolish as you - if they had shown the childish madness you think of as bravery and stayed in place? What would you have done?"
D.G. muttered, "Hit them."
"And then we would all have died."
"The transaction would have been in our favor, Gladia. One crummy old Trader ship from a Settler world for a new and advanced warship, of the leading Spacer world."
D.G. tipped his chair back against the wall and put his hands behind his neck (amazing how comfortable he felt, now that it was all over). "I once saw a historical hyperdrama, in which, toward the end of the war, airplanes loaded with explosives were deliberately flown into much more expensive seaships in order to sink them. Of course, the pilot of each airplane lost his life."
"That was fiction," said Gladia. "You don't suppose civilized people do things like that in real life, do you?"
"Why not? If the cause is good enough."
"What was it, then, you felt as you plunged toward a glorious death? Exaltation? You were hurtling all your crew toward the same death."
"They knew about it. We could do nothing else. Earth was watching."
"The people on Earth didn't even know."
"I mean it metaphorically. We were in Earth space. We could not act ignobly."
"Oh, what nonsense! And you risked my life, too."
D.G. looked down at his boots. "Would you like to hear something crazy? That was the only thing that bothered me."
"That I would die?"
"Not quite. That I would lose you. - When that ship ordered me to give you up, I knew I wouldn't - even if you asked me to. I would gladly ram them instead; they couldn't have you. And then, as I watched their ship expand in the viewscreen, I thought, "If they don't get out of here, I'll lose her anyway, and that's when my heart started to pound and I began to sweat. I knew they'd run, and still the thought - " He shook his head.
Gladia frowned. "I don't understand you. You weren't worrying about my dying, but you were worried about losing me? Don't the two go together?"
"I know. I'm not saying it's rational. I thought of you rushing at the overseer to save me when you knew it could murder you with a blow. I thought of you facing the crowd at Baleyworld and talking them down when you had never even seen a crowd before. I even thought of you going to Aurora when you were a young woman and learning a new way of life - and surviving. - And it seemed to me I didn't mind dying, I just minded losing you. You're right. It doesn't make sense."
Gladia said thoughtfully, "Have you forgotten my age? I was just about as old as I am now when you were born. When I was your age, I used to dream of your remote Ancestor. What's more, I've got an artificial hip joint. My left thumb - this one right here" - she wiggled it - "is strictly prosthetic. Some of my nerves have been rebuilt. My teeth are all implanted ceramic. And you talk as though any moment you're going to confess a transcendent passion. For what? - For whom? - Think, D.G.! - Look at me and see me as I am!"
D.G. tilted his chair back on two legs and rubbed at his beard with an odd scraping sound. "All right. You've made me sound silly, but I'm going to keep right on. What I know about your age is that you're going to survive me and look scarcely any older when you do, so you're younger than I am, not older. Besides, I don't care if you are older. What I would like is for you to stay with me wherever I go - for all my life, if possible."
Gladia was about to speak, but D.G. intervened hastily, "Or, if it seems more convenient, for me to stay with you wherever you go - for all my life, if possible. - If it's all right with you."
Gladia said softly, "I'm a Spacer. You're a Settler."
"Who cares, Gladia? Do you?"
"I mean, there's no question of children. I've had mine."
"What difference does that make to me! There's no danger of the name Baley dying out."
"I have a task of my own. I intend to bring peace to the Galaxy."
"I'll help you."
"And your trading? Will you give up your chance to be rich?"
"We'll do some together. Just enough to keep my crew happy and to help me support you in your task as peacebringer."
"Life will be dull for you, D.G."
"Will it? It seems to me that since you joined me it's been too exciting."
"And you'll probably insist on my giving up my robots."
D.G. looked distressed. "Is that why you've been trying to talk me out of this? I wouldn't mind your keeping the two of them - even Daneel and his small lecherous smile but if we're going to live among Settlers - "
"Then I suppose I'll have to try to find the courage to do it."
She laughed, gently and so did D.G. He held out his arms to her and she placed her hands in his.
She said, "You're mad. I'm mad. But everything has been so strange since the evening I looked up at the sky in Aurora and, tried to find Solaria's sun that I suppose being mad is the only possible response to things."
"What you've just said isn't only mad," said D.G., "it's crazy, but that's the way I want you to be." He hesitated. "No, I'll wait. I'll shave my beard before I try to kiss you. That will lower the chances of infection."
"No, don't! I'm curious about how it might feel."
And she promptly found out.
81
Commander Lisiform strode back and forth across the length of his cabin. He said, "There was no use losing the ship. No use at all."
His political adviser sat quietly in his chair. His eyes did not bother to follow the agitated and rapid to-and-fro movement of the other. "Yes, of course," he said.
"What have the barbarians to lose? They only live a few decades, in any case. Life means nothing to them."
"Yes, of course."
"Still, I've never seen or heard of a Settler ship doing that. It may be a new - fanatical tactic and we have no defense against it. What if they send drone ships against us, with shields up and full momentum but no human beings aboard?"
"We might robotify our ships entirely."
"That wouldn't help. We couldn't afford to lose the ship. What we need is the shield knife they keep talking about. Something that will slice through a shield."
"Then they'll develop one, too, and we will have to devise a knife-proof shield, and so will they, and it will be a standoff again at a higher level."
"We need something completely new, then."
"Well," said the adviser, "maybe something will turn up. Your mission wasn't primarily the matter of the Solarian woman and her robots, was it? It would have been pleasant if we could have forced them out of the Settler ship, but that was secondary, wasn't it?"
"The Council isn't going to like it, just the same."
"It's my job to take care of that. The important fact is that Amadiro and Mandamus left the ship and are on their way to Earth in a good speedy ferry."
"Well, yes."
"And you not only distracted the Settler ship but delayed it as well. That means Amadiro and Mandamus not only left the ship unnoticed, but they will be on Earth before our barbarian captain will."
"I suppose so. But what of that?"
"I wonder. If it were only Mandamus, I would dismiss the matter. He's of no consequence. But Amadiro? To abandon the political wars back home at a difficult time and come to Earth? Something absolutely crucial must be going on here."
"What?" The commander seemed annoyed that he should be so nearly - and so all-but-fatally - involved in something of which he understood nothing.
"I haven't any idea."
"Do you suppose it might be secret negotiations at the highest level for some sort of overall modification of the peace settlement Fastolfe had negotiated?"
The adviser smiled. "Peace settlement? If you think that, you don't know our Dr. Amadiro. He wouldn't travel to Earth in order to modify a clause or two in a peace settlement. What he's after is a Galaxy without Settlers and if he comes to Earth - well, all I can say is that I wouldn't like to be in the shoes of the Settler barbarians at this time."
82
"I trust, friend Giskard," said Daneel, "that Madam Gladia is not uneasy at being without us. Can you tell at her distance?"
"I can detect her mind faintly but unmistakably, friend Daneel. She is with the captain and there is a distinct overlay of excitement and joy."
"Excellent, friend Giskard."
"Less excellent for myself, friend Daneel. I find myself in a state of some disorder. I have been under a great strain."
"It distresses me to hear that, friend Giskard. May I ask the reason?"
"We have been here for some time while the captain negotiated with the Auroran ship."
"Yes, but the Auroran ship is now gone, apparently, so that the captain seems to have negotiated to good effect."
"He has done so in a manner of which you were apparently not aware. I was - to an extent. Though the captain was not here with us, I had little trouble sensing his mind. It exuded overwhelming tension and suspense and underneath that a gathering and strengthening sense of loss."
"Loss, friend Giskard? Were you able to determine of what that loss might consist?"
"I cannot describe my method of analysis of such things, but the loss did not seem to be the type of loss I have, in the past associated with generalities or with inanimate objects. It had the touch - that is not the word, but there is no other that fits even vaguely - of the loss of a specific person.
"Lady Gladia."
"Yes."
"That would be natural, friend Giskard. He was faced with the possibility of having to give her up to the Auroran vessel."
"It was too intense for that. Too wailing."
"Too wailing?"
"It is the only word I can think of in this connection. There was a stressful mourning associated with the sense of loss. It was not as though Lady Gladia would move elsewhere and be unavailable for that reason. That might, after all, be corrected at some future time. It was as though Lady Gladia would cease existing - would die - and be forever unavailable."
"He felt, then, that the Aurorans would kill her? Surely that is not possible."
"Indeed, not possible. And that is not it. I felt a thread of a sense of personal responsibility associated with the deep, deep fear of loss. I searched other minds on board ship and, putting it all together, I came to the suspicion that the captain was deliberately charging his ship into the Auroran vessel."
"That, too, is not possible, friend Giskard," said Daneel in a low voice.
"I had to accept it. My first impulse was to alter the captain's emotional makeup in such a way as to force him to change course, but I could not. His mind was so firmly set, so saturated with determination and - despite the suspense, tension, and dread of loss - so filled with confidence of success - "
"How could there be at once a dread of loss through death and a feeling of confidence of success?"
"Friend Daneel, I have given up marveling at the capacity of the human mind to maintain two opposing emotions simultaneously. I merely accept it. In this case, to have attempted to alter the captain's mind to the point of turning the ship from its course would have killed him. I could not do that."
"But if you did not, friend Giskard, scores of human beings on this ship, including Madam Gladia, and several hundreds more on the Auroran vessel would die."
"They might not die if the captain were correct in his feeling of confidence in success. I could not bring about one certain death to prevent many merely probable ones. There is the difficulty, friend Daneel, in your Zeroth Law. The First Law deals with specific individuals and certainties. Your Zeroth Law deals with vague groups and probabilities."
"The human beings on board these ships are not vague groups. They are many specific individuals taken together."
"Yet when I must make a decision it is the specific individual I am about to influence directly whose fate must count with me. I cannot help that."
"What was it you did do, then, friend Giskard - or were you completely helpless?"
"In my desperation, friend Daneel, I attempted to contact the commander of the Auroran vessel after a small Jump had brought him quite close to us. I could not. The distance was too great. And yet the attempt was not altogether a failure. I did detect something, the equivalent of a faint hum. I puzzled over it a short while before realizing I was receiving the overall sensation of the minds of all the human beings on board the Auroran vessel. I had to filter out that faint hum from the much more prominent sensations arising from our own vessel - a difficult task."
Daneel said, "Nearly impossible, I should think, friend, Giskard."
"As you say, nearly impossible, but I managed it with an enormous effort. However, try as I might, I could make out no individual minds. - When Madam Gladia faced the large numbers of human beings in her audience on Baleyworld, I sensed an anarchic confusion of a vast jumble of minds, but I managed to pick out individual minds here and there for a moment or two. That was not so on this occasion."
Giskard paused, as though lost in his memory of the sensation.
Daneel said, "I imagine this must be analogous to the manner in which we see individual stars even among large groups of them, when the whole is comparatively close to us. In a distant galaxy, however, we cannot make out individual stars but can see only a faintly luminous fog."
"That strikes me as a good analogy, friend Daneel. - And as I concentrated on the faint but distant hum, it seemed to me that I could detect a very dim wash of fear permeating it. I was not sure of this, but I felt I had to try to take advantage of it. I had never attempted to exert influence over anything so far away, over anything as inchoate as a mere hum - but I tried desperately to increase that fear by however small a trifle. I cannot say whether I succeeded."
"The Auroran vessel fled. You must have succeeded."
"Not necessarily. The vessel might have fled if I had done nothing."
Daneel seemed lost in thought. "It might. If our captain were so confident that it would flee - "
Giskard said, "On the other hand, I cannot be sure that there was a rational basis to that confidence. It seemed to me that what I detected was intermixed with a feeling of awe and reverence for Earth. The confidence I sensed was rather similar to the kind I have detected in young children toward their protectors - parental or otherwise. I had the feeling that the captain believed he could not fail in the neighborhood of Earth because of the influence of Earth. I wouldn't say the feeling was exactly irrational, but it felt nonrational, in any case."
"You are undoubtedly right in this, friend Giskard. The captain has, in our hearing, spoken of Earth, on occasion, in a reverential manner. Since Earth cannot truly influence the success of an action through any mystical influence, it is quite possible to suppose that your influence was indeed successfully exerted. And moreover - "
Giskard, his eyes glowing dimly, said, "Of what are you thinking, friend Daneel?"
"I have been thinking of the supposition that the individual human being is concrete while humanity is abstract. When you detected that faint hum from the Auroran ship, you were not detecting an individual, but a portion of humanity. Could you not, if you were at a proper distance from Earth and if the background noise were sufficiently small, detect the hum of the mental activity of Earth's human population, overall? And, extending that, can one not imagine that in the Galaxy generally there is the hum of the mental activity of all of humanity? How, then, is humanity an abstraction? It is something you can point to. Think of that in connection with the Zeroth Law and you will see that the extension of the Laws of Robotics is a justified one - justified by your own experience."
There was a long pause and finally Giskard said, slowly as though it were being dragged out of him, "You may be right friend Daneel. - And yet, if we are landing on Earth now, with a Zeroth Law we may be able to use, we still don't know how we might use it. It seems to us, so far, that the crisis that Earth faces involves the use of a nuclear intensifier, but as far as we know, there is nothing of significance on Earth on which a nuclear intensifier can do its work. What, then, will we do on Earth?"
"I do not as yet know," said Daneel sadly.
83
Noise!
Gladia listened in astonishment. It didn't hurt her ears. It wasn't the sound of surface slashing on surface. It wasn't a piercing shriek, or a clamor, or a banging, or - anything that could be expressed by an onomatopoetic word.
It was softer and less overwhelming, rising and falling, bearing within it an occasional irregularity - and always there.
D.G. watched her listening, cocking her head to this side and that, and said, "I call it the 'Drone of the City,' Gladia.
"Does it ever stop?"
"Never, really, but what can you expect? Haven't you ever stood in a field and heard the wind rustling the leaves and insects stridulating and birds calling, and water running. That never stops."
"That's different."
"No, it isn't. It's the same. The sound here is the melting together of the rumble of machinery and the various noises people make, but the principle is precisely the same as the natural nonhuman noises of a field. You're used to fields, so you don't hear the noise there. You're not used to this, so you hear it and probably find it annoying. Earthpeople don't hear it except on the rare occasions when they come fresh in from the countryside - and then they are very glad indeed to greet it. Tomorrow you won't hear it either."
Gladia looked about thoughtfully from their position on a small balcony. "So many buildings!"
"That's true enough. Structures in every direction stretching outward for miles. And up - and down, too. This is not just a city, in the fashion of Aurora or Baleyworld. It is a City - capital 'C' - of the kind that exists only on Earth."
"These are the Caves of Steel," said Gladia. "I know. We're underground, aren't we?"
"Yes. Absolutely. I must tell you that it took me time to get used to this sort of thing the first time I visited Earth. Wherever you go in a City, it looks like a crowded city scene. Walkways and roadways and storefronts and mobs of people, with the soft and universal lights of fluorescents making everything seem bathed in soft shadowless sunshine - but it isn't sunshine and, up above the surface, I don't know if the sun is really shining at the moment, or is covered by clouds, or is absent altogether, leaving this part of the world plunged in night and darkness."
"It makes the City enclosed. People breathe each other's air."
"We do anyway - on any world - anywhere."
"Not like this." She sniffed. "It smells."
"Every world smells. Every City on Earth smells differently. You'll get used to it."
"Do I want to? Why don't people suffocate?"
"Excellent ventilation."
"What happens when it breaks down?"
"It never does."
Gladia looked about again and said. "Every building seems loaded with balconies."
"It's a sign of status. Very few people have apartments facing out and if they do have one they want the advantage of it. Most Citypeople live inside windowless apartments."
Gladia shuddered, "Horrible! What's the name of this City, D.G.?"
"It's New York. It's the chief City, but not the largest. On this continent, Mexico City and Los Angeles are the largest and there are Cities larger than New York on other continents."
"What makes New York the chief City, then?"
"The usual reason. The Global Government is located here. The United Nations."
"Nations?" She pointed her finger triumphantly at D.G. "Earth was divided into several independent political units. Right?"
"Right. Dozens of them. But that was before hyperspatial. Travel prehyper times. The name remains, though. That's what's wonderful about Earth. It's frozen history. Every other world is new and shallow. Only Earth is humanity in its essence."
D.G. said it in a hushed whisper and then retreated back into the room. It was not a large one and its furnishings were skimpy.
Gladia said, disappointed, "Why isn't there anyone about?"
D.G. laughed. "Don't worry, dear. If it's parades and attention you want, you'll have them. It's just that I asked them to leave us alone for a while. I want a little peace and rest and I imagine you do, too. As for my men, they have to berth the ship, clean it up, renew supplies, tend to their devotions - "
"Women?"
"No, that's not what I mean, though I suppose women will play a role later. By devotions, I mean that Earth still has its religions and these comfort the men somehow. Here on Earth, anyway. It seems to have more meaning here."
"Well," said Gladia half-contemptuously. "Frozen history, as you say. - Do you suppose we can get out of the building and walk about a bit?"
"Take my advice, Gladia, and don't jump into that sort of thing just now. You'll get plenty of it when the ceremonies begin."
"But that will be so formal. Could we skip the ceremonies?"
"No chance at all. Since you insisted on making yourself a heroine on Baleyworld, you'll have to be one on Earth as well. Still, the ceremonies will be through eventually. When you recover from them, we will get a guide and we'll really see the City."
"Will we have any trouble taking my robots with us?" She gestured toward Daneel and Giskard at the other end of the room. "I don't mind being without them when I'm with you on the ship, but if I'm going to be with crowds of strangers I'll feel more secure having them with me."
"There'll be no problem with Daneel, certainly. He's a hero in his own right. He was the Ancestor's partner and he passes for human. Giskard, who is an obvious robot, should, in theory, not be allowed inside the City borders, but they've made an exception in his case and I hope they will continue to do so. It is too bad, in a way, that we must wait here and can't step outside."
"You say I should not be exposed to all that noise just yet," said Gladia.
"No, no. I'm not referring to the public squares and roadways. I would just like to take you out into the corridors within this particular building. There are miles and miles of them literally - and they're a small bit of City in themselves: shopping recesses, dining halls, amusement areas, Personals, elevators, transways, and so on. There's more color and variety on one floor in one building in one City on Earth than in a whole Settler town or in a whole Spacer world."
"I should think everyone would get lost."
"Of course not. Everyone knows his own neighborhood here, as anywhere else. Even strangers need only follow the signs."
"I suppose all the walking, that people are forced to do must be very good for them physically," said Gladia dubiously.
"Socially, too. There are people in the corridors at all times and the convention is that you stop to exchange words with anyone you know and that you greet even those you don't know. Nor is walking absolutely necessary. There are elevators everywhere for vertical travel. The main corridors are transways and move for horizontal travel. Outside the building, of course, there is a feeder line to the Expressway network. That's something. You'll get to ride it."
"I've heard of them. They have strips that you walk across and that drag you along faster and faster - or slower and slower - as you move from one to another. I couldn't do that. Don't ask me to."
"Of course you'll be able to do it," said D.G. genially. "I'll help you. If necessary, I'll carry you, but all it takes is a little practice. Among the Earthpeople, kindergarten children manage and so do old people with canes. I admit Settlers tend to be clumsy about it. I'm no miracle of grace myself, but I manage and so will you."
Gladia heaved an enormous sigh. "Well, then, I'll try if I have to. But I tell you what, D.G., dear. We must have a reasonably quiet room for the night. I want your 'Drone of the City' muted."
"That can be arranged, I'm sure."
"And I don't want to have to eat in the Section kitchens."
D.G. looked doubtful. "We can arrange to have food brought in, but really it would do you good to participate in the social life of Earth. I'll be with you, after all."
"Maybe after a while, D.G., but not just at first - and I want a Personal for myself."
"Oh, no, that's impossible. There'll be a washbasin and a toilet bowl in any room they assign us because we have status, but if you intend to do any serious showering or bathing, you'll have to follow the crowd. There'll be a woman to introduce you to the procedure and you'll be assigned a stall or whatever it is they have there. You won't be embarrassed. Settler women have to be introduced to the use of Personals, every day of the year. - And you may end up enjoying it, Gladia. They tell me that the Women's Personal is a place of much activity and fun. In the Men's Personal, on the other hand, not a word is allowed spoken. Very dull."
"It's all horrible," muttered Gladia. "How do you stand the lack of privacy?"
"On a crowded world, needs must," said D.G. lightly. "What you've never had, you never miss. - Do you want any other aphorisms?"
"Not really," said Gladia.
She looked dejected and D.G. put an arm about her shoulder. "Come, it won't be as bad as you think. I promise you."
84
It was not exactly a nightmare, but Gladia was thankful to her earlier experience on Baleyworld for having given her a preview of what was now a veritable ocean of humanity. The crowds were much larger here in New York than they had been on the Settler world, but on the other hand, she was more insulated from the herd here than she had been on the earlier occasion.
The government officials were clearly anxious to be seen with her. There was a wordless, polite struggle for a position near enough to her to be seen with her on hypervision. It isolated her, not only from the crowds on the other side of the police lines, but from D.G. and from her two robots. It also subjected her to a kind of polite jostling from people who seemed to have an eye only on the camera.
She listened to what seemed innumerable speeches, all mercifully brief, without really listening. She smiled periodically, both blandly and blindly, casting the vision of her implanted teeth in all directions indiscriminately.
Gladia went by ground-car through miles of passageways at a crawl, while an uncounted ant heap lined the walkways, cheering and waving as she passed. (She wondered if ever a Spacer had received such adulation from Earthpeople and was quite confident that her own case was entirely unprecedented.)
At one point, Gladia caught sight of a distant knot of people gathered round a hypervision screen and momentarily had an undoubted glimpse of herself upon it. They were listening, she knew, to a recording of her speech on Baleyworld. Gladia wondered how many times and in how many places and before how many people it was being played now, and how many times it had been played since she gave it, and how many times it would yet be played in the future, and whether anything at all had been heard of it on the Spacer worlds.
Might she, in fact, seem a traitor to the people of Aurora and would this reception be held to be proof of it?
She might - and it might - and she was beyond caring. She had her mission of peace and reconciliation and she would follow it wherever it led without complaint - even to the unbelievable orgy of mass bathing and shrilly unconscious exhibitionism in the Women's Personal that morning. (Well, without much complaint.)
They came to one of the Expressways that D.G. had mentioned, and Gladia gazed in open horror at the endless snake of passenger cars that passed - and passed - and passed - each with its load of people who were on business that could not be postponed for the motorcade (or who simply didn't want to be bothered) and who stared solemnly at the crowds and the procession for the few moments they remained in sight.
Then the ground-car plunged downward under the Expressway, through a short tunnel that in no way differed, from the passage above (the City was all tunnel), and up again on the other side.
And eventually the motorcade came to an end at a large public building that was mercifully more attractive than the endlessly repetitious blocks that represented the units of the City's residential section.
Within the building, there was yet another reception, during which alcoholic drinks and various hors d'oeuvres were served. Gladia fastidiously touched neither. A thousand people milled about and an endless succession of them came up to speak to Gladia. The word had apparently gone out not to offer to shake hands, but some inevitably did, and, trying not to hesitate, Gladia would briefly place two fingers on the hand and then withdraw them.
Eventually, a number of women prepared to leave for the nearest Personal and one of them performed what was obviously a social ritual and tactfully asked Gladia if she would like to accompany them. Gladia didn't, but there might be a long night ahead and might be more embarrassing to have to interrupt it later.
Within the Personal, there was the usual excited laughing and chattering and Gladia, bowing to the exigencies of the situation and fortified by her experience that morning, made use of the facilities in a small chamber with partitions on either side, but with none in front of her.
No one seemed to mind and Gladia tried to remind herself she must adjust to local customs. At least the place was well-ventilated and seemed spotlessly clean.
Though out, Daneel and Giskard had been ignored. This, Gladia realized, was a kindness. Robots were no longer allowed within City limits, though there were millions in the countryside without. To have made a point of the presence of Daneel and Giskard would have meant raising the legal issue that involved. It was easier to pretend, tactfully, that they weren't there.
Once the banquet began, they sat quietly at a table with D.G., not too far removed from the dais. At the dais, Gladia sat, eating sparingly and wondering if the food would give her dysentery.
D.G., perhaps not entirely pleased with his relegation to the post of keeper of the robots, kept staring restlessly in Gladia's direction and, occasionally, she lifted one hand and smiled at him.
Giskard, equally watchful of Gladia, had an opportunity to say to Daneel very quietly, under cover of the relentless and unending background clash of cutlery and babble, "Friend Daneel, these are high officials that sit here in this room. It is possible that one or more may have information of use to us."
"It is possible, friend Giskard. Can you, thanks to your abilities, guide me in this respect?"
"I cannot. The mental background yields me no specific emotional response of interest. Nor does the occasional flash among the nearest show me anything. Yet the climax of the crisis is, I am certain, approaching quickly, even as we sit here, idle."
Daneel said gravely, "I will try to do as Partner Elijah would have done and force the pace."
85
Daneel was not eating. He watched the assemblage with his calm eyes and located the one he was searching for. Quietly, he rose and moved toward another table, his eyes on a woman who was managing to eat briskly and yet maintain a cheerful conversation with the man on her left. She was a stocky woman, with short hair that showed definite traces of gray. Her face, if not youthful, was pleasant.
Daneel waited for a natural break in the conversation and when that did not come, he said with an effort, "Madam, may I interrupt?"
She looked up at him, startled and plainly displeased. "Yes," she said rather briskly, "what is it?"
"Madam," said Daneel, "I ask your pardon for this interruption, but may I have your permission to speak with you for a time?"
She stared at him, frowning for a moment, and then her expression softened. She said, "I should guess, from your excessive politeness, that you're the robot, aren't you?"
"I am one of Madam Gladia's robots, madam."
"Yes, but you're the human one. You're R. Daneel Olivaw."
"That is my name, madam."
The woman turned to the man on her left and said, "Please excuse me. I can't very well refuse this - robot."
Her neighbor smiled uncertainly and transferred his attention to the place before him.
The woman said to Daneel, "If you have a chair, why don't you bring it here? I will be glad to speak to you."
"Thank you, madam."
When Daneel had returned and seated himself, she said, "You are really R. Daneel Olivaw, aren't you?"
"That is my name, madam," said Daneel, again.
"I mean the one who worked with Elijah Baley long ago. You're not a new model of the same line? You're not R. Daneel the Fourth or something like that?"
Daneel said, "Mere is little of me that has not been replaced in the past twenty decades - or even modernized and improved but my positronic brain is the same as it was when I worked with Partner Elijah on three different worlds - and once on a spaceship. It has not been altered."
"Well!" She looked at - him admiringly. "You're certainly a good job. If all robots were like you, I'd see no objection to them whatever. - What is it you want to talk to me about?"
"When you were introduced to Lady Gladia, madam, before we all took our seats, you were presented to her as the Undersecretary of Energy, Sophia Quintana."
"You remember well. That is my name and my office."
"Does the office refer to all of Earth or merely to the city?"
"I'm Global Undersecretary, I assure you."
"Then you are knowledgeable in the field of energetics?"
Quintana smiled. She did not seem to object to being questioned. Perhaps she thought it amusing or perhaps she found herself attracted to Daneel's air of deferential gravity or to the mere fact that a robot could question her so. In any case, she said with a smile, "I majored in energetics at the University of California and have a master's degree in it. As to how knowledgeable I still am, I'm not certain. I've spent too many years as an administrator - something that saps one's brains, I assure you."
"But you would be well acquainted with the practical aspects of Earth's present energy supply, would you not?"
"Yes. That I will admit to. Is there something you want to know about it?"
"There is something that piques my curiosity, madam."
"Curiosity? In a robot?"
Daneel bowed his head. "If a robot is complex enough, he can be aware of something within himself that seeks information. This is analogous to what I have observed to be called 'curiosity' in human beings and I take the liberty of using the same word in connection with my own feelings."
"Fair enough. What are you curious about, R. Daneel? May I call you that?"
"Yes, madam. I understand that Earth's energy supply is drawn from solar power stations in geostationary orbit in Earth's equatorial plane."
"You understand correctly."
"But are these power stations the sole energy supply of this planet?"
"No. They are the primary - but not the sole - energy supply. There is considerable use of energy from Earth's internal heat, from winds, waves, tides, flowing water, and so on. We have quite a complex mix and each variety has its advantages. Solar energy is the mainstay, however."
"You make no mention of nuclear energy, madam. Are there no uses for microfusion?"
Quintana raised her eyebrows. "Is that what you're curious about, R. Daneel?"
"Yes, madam. What is the reason for the absence of nuclear power sources on Earth?"
"They are not absent, R. Daneel. On a small scale, one comes across it. Our robots - we have many in the countryside, you know - are micro fusionized. Are you, by the way?"
Daneel said, "Yes, madam."
"Then, too," she went on, "there are microfusionized machines here and there, but the total is quite trifling."
"Is it not true, Madam Quintana, that microfusion energy sources are sensitive to the action of nuclear intensifiers?"
"They certainly are. Yes, of course. The microfusion power source will blow up and I suppose that comes under the heading of being sensitive."
"Then it isn't possible for someone, using a nuclear intensifier, to seriously cripple some crucial portion of Earth's energy supply?"
Quintana laughed. "No, of course not. In the first place, I don't see anyone dragging a nuclear intensifier about from place to place. They weigh tons and I don't think they can be maneuvered through and along the streets and corridors of a City. Certainly, it would be noticed if anyone tried. And then, even if a nuclear intensifier were brought into play, all it could do would be to destroy a few robots and a few machines before the thing would be discovered and stopped. There is no chance at all - zero - of our being hurt in that way. Is that the reassurance you wanted, R. Daneel?"
It was almost a dismissal.
Daneel said, "There are just one or two small points I would like clarified, Madam Quintana. Why is there no large microfusion source on Earth? The Spacer worlds all depend on microfusion and so do all the Settler worlds. Microfusion is portable, versatile, and cheap - and doesn't require the enormous effort of maintenance, repair, and replacement that space structures do."
"And, as you said, R. Daneel, they are sensitive to nuclear intensifiers."
"And, as you said, Madam Quintana, nuclear intensifiers are too large and bulky to be of much use."
Quintana smiled broadly and nodded. "You are very intelligent, R. Daneel," she said. "It never occurred to me that I would ever sit at a table and carry on a discussion like this with a robot. Your Auroran roboticists are very clever too clever - for I fear to carry on this discussion. I'd have to worry about you taking my place in the government. You know, we do have a legend about a robot named Stephen Byerly taking a high post in the government."
"That must be merely fiction, Madam Quintana," said Daneel gravely. "There are no robots in governmental posts on any of the Spacer worlds. We are merely - robots."
"I'm relieved to hear that and will therefore go on. The matter of differences in power sources has its roots in history. At the time that hyperspatial travel was developed, we had microfusion, so that people leaving Earth took microfusion power sources with them. It was necessary on spaceships and on planets, too, in the generations during which they were being adapted for human occupation. It takes many years to build an adequate complex of solar power stations - and rather than undertake such a task, the emigrants remained with microfusion. So it was with the Spacer's in their time, and so it is now with the Settlers.
"On Earth, however, microfusion and solar power in space were developed at roughly the same time and both were used more and more. Finally, we could make our choice and use either microfusion or solar power or, of course, both. And we chose solar power."
Daneel said, "That seems strange to me, Madam Quintana. Why not both?"
"Actually, that's not a very difficult question to answer, R. Daneel. Earth, in prehyperspatial days, had had experience with a primitive form of nuclear energy, and it wasn't a happy experience. When the time came to choose between solar power and microfusion, Earthpeople saw microfusion as a form of nuclear energy and turned away from it. Other worlds, which did not have our direct experience with the primitive form of nuclear energy, had no reason to turn away from microfusion."
"May I ask what this primitive form of nuclear energy to which you refer might be, madam?"
"Uranium fission," said Quintana. "It's completely different from microfusion. Fission involves the splitting of massive nuclei, such as those of uranium. Microfusion involves the joining of light nuclei, such as those of hydrogen. They're both forms of nuclear energy, however."
"I presume that uranium would be the fuel for fission devices."
"Yes - or other massive nuclei, such as those of thorium or plutonium."
"But uranium and these others are exceedingly rare metals. Could they support a fission-using society?"
"Those elements are rare on other worlds. On Earth, they are not exactly common, but neither are they terribly rare. Uranium and thorium are widely spread in the crust in small quantities and are concentrated in a few places."
"And are there any fission-power devices on Earth now, madam?"
"No," said Quintana flatly. "Nowhere and in no fashion. Human beings would far sooner burn oil - or even wood - than fission uranium. The very word 'uranium' is taboo in polite society. You wouldn't be asking me these questions or I giving you these answers if you were a human being and an Earthman."
Daneel persisted. "But are you certain, madam? Is there no secret device that makes use of fission that, for the sake of national security - "
"No, robot," said Quintana, frowning. "I tell you - no such device. None!"
Daneel rose. "I thank you, madam, and I ask your pardon for taking your time and for probing what would seem to be a sensitive subject. With your permission, I shall leave you now."
Quintana waved a careless hand. "You're welcome, R. Daneel."
She turned again to her neighbor, secure in the knowledge that in the crowds of Earth, people never attempted to overhear a nearby conversation or, if they did, never admitted the fact. She said, "Would you imagine having a discussion on energetics with a robot?"
As for Daneel, he returned to his original place and said softly to Giskard, "Nothing, friend Giskard. Nothing helpful."
Then he added sadly, "Perhaps I asked the wrong questions. Partner Elijah would have asked the right ones."