by Isaac Asimov
“I can try to make another request...” he said.
“If you think it will help.”
No, he thought, but it might make me feel better to try...
Derec reached to the screen of chaos and touched an icon. The screen went blank.
“Do you wish me to continue, Derec?” Thales asked.
“Sure. I’m... I have some other things to tend to.”
“Of course.”
Derec drifted into his living room. Against one long wall a subetheric showed two political candidates soundlessly debating. He frowned, recognizing one of them: Rega Looms. For a moment, Derec felt confused, then remembered that Looms was running for a senate seat in the upcoming election. He had declared in opposition to Jonis Taprin, who had replaced Clar Eliton the previous year in a recall election. Taprin ran now on a revised, anti-robot platform, a complete about-face from his position not fourteen months earlier when, as Eliton’s vice senator, he had supported what had become known as “Concessionism” and a gradual reintroduction of positronics on Earth.
In retrospect, Derec did not know how much he had ever believed it could be done. In Earth’s long history of social change, fickle politics, and policy-by-trend, the ban on positronics had lasted the longest and tenaciously resisted reform. Hard to believe, on a world where once the newest and brightest and best technologies had been created and dispensed and embraced with almost childlike passion for novelty.
Curious, Derec turned on the volume.
“–travel to other worlds has diluted Earth’s reservoir of genius,” Looms said, jabbing the armrest of his chair with a stiff finger. “I’ll concede that you now hold a position with which I have long been in agreement, that positronics should not be allowed a return to Earth, but I feel that you don’t go far enough. Positronics is not the only threat.”
“Mr. Looms, with all due respect,” Taprin said smoothly, clearly the more practiced public figure, “you can’t expect us to shut down commerce. What you suggest would break the back of our economy.”
“No, sir, I think that’s alarmist and misleading. Economies are artificial constructs, just like any other machine. We make them what we want them to be. I am simply saying that we should change the way in which we operate our economy so that we can eventually sever all ties to other worlds.”
“But, sir, you must take into account that there are citizens–Terrans–who simply don’t want those ties severed.”
“There are also Terrans who want positronic robots,” Looms countered. “We don’t let them dictate policy.”
“The numbers, sir, the numbers–”
Derec switched off the subetheric. Looms’ campaign strategy seemed to be to try to become more reactionary than his reactionary opponent. A year ago Derec would not have given that tactic a chance of success, but Earth always surprised him.
“You have a call, Derec,” Thales said. “Ambassador Ariel Burgess.”
Derec considered telling Thales to say he was out. Instead, he went to the comm and pressed his thumb on the ACCEPT. “Hello.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Derec, but are you busy right now?” Ariel asked crisply.
The visual was off, so Derec allowed himself a wry smile. “Nothing pressing.”
“Would you come up to my office? I need–I’d appreciate your opinion on something.”
“‘Something.’ For instance?”
There was a pause. “Please.”
Derec blinked. Please...? “I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.”
The connection broke and Derec stared at the comm, baffled.
“Thales, I’ll be in Ambassador Burgess’s offices for a while,” he said, moving to the door. “In case anything comes up.”
“Very well, Derec.”
Ariel’s offices consisted of four large chambers in the main diplomatic quarter of the Auroran Embassy. The lone robot at the reception desk magnified the impression of emptiness: Only one robot, out of a staff of four robots and eleven people a year before.
“Ambassador Burgess is expecting you, sir,” the robot said as he entered. “Go right through.”
“Thank you.”
Derec pushed open the door to Ariel’s personal office.
He hesitated. Hofton stood behind and to the left of Ariel’s chair, hands folded appropriately before him, posture straight and attentive, looking as if he had not been absent for most of the last year, transferred to another office. He inclined his nearly hairless head in greeting but otherwise said nothing, face professionally expressionless.
A man sat in one of Ariel’s highback visitor’s chairs. He stood as the door closed behind Derec. Tall, wide-shouldered, with short, gray-flecked hair, dark eyes set deep below pale eyebrows, and a too-straight nose that hinted at cosmetic retouch, he looked familiar to Derec.
“Mr. Lanra,” Ariel said, “this is Derec Avery, special attaché to my department.”
Derec gave her a sharp look.
“Derec, “she continued smoothly, “this is Coren Lanra, head of security for DyNan Manual Industries.”
Derec gripped Lanra’s hand. “I’ve heard of you, of course. Mia Daventri said you helped her out during the Managin... situation last year.”
“Indeed, “Lanra said. “And you ‘re the head of Phylaxis Group.”
“Once upon a time.”
Lanra frowned.
“I’ve asked Mr. Avery,” Ariel said, “to sit in as an impartial witness. He’s attached to my office but he doesn’t work for me, unlike Hofton.”
Lanra sat down. “I’d hoped to confine this meeting to just you and I, Ambassador Burgess.”
“Humor me, Mr. Lanra. The past year has made me wary of private meetings.”
Lanra almost smiled at that. “Very well. I have a problem which may interest you. I’d like to enlist your expertise.”
“In what capacity?”
Derec moved to the other visitor’s chair and sat down. Lanra seemed to be deliberating, lips pursed, hands pressed together meditatively.
“You must understand,” he said slowly, “that this has nothing to do with DyNan. This is a private matter concerning Rega Looms and myself.”
“If you say so,” Ariel said dryly.
Lanra sighed wearily. “Rega Looms’ daughter was found dead less than twenty-four hours ago on Kopernik Station. She was involved in running baleys and was apparently accompanying a group of them. All fifty-two are dead.”
Ariel winced. “I’m terribly sorry. But how–”
“She had a robot in her possession.”
Derec sat forward, startled. Hofton moved his hands behind his back, which made him seem even more attentive. Ariel stared at Lanra, openly amazed.
After a long silence, Ariel cleared her throat. “This hasn’t been on the newsnets.”
“Not yet,” Lanra said. “I hope to keep it that way for a few days. Longer if possible, but sooner or later someone is going to make some connections, find a source–something.”
“That’s … unique, Mr. Lanra...”
Lanra said nothing.
“The daughter of Rega Looms,” Derec said, as much to break the silence as to confirm what he had heard, “had a robot.”
“Yes, Mr. Avery.”
“Her own?”
“I presume so.”
“And where is it now?”
“On Kopernik, under security lock.”
“Forgive me,” Ariel said, “but I still don’t see how this concerns us.”
Derec frowned at her. “This robot, it was collapsed?”
“Uh... yes, “Lanra said. “Frozen up, unresponsive. But there’s activity–at least, there’s current still running through it. I don’t know enough about them to know if that means anything.”
“Well–” Derec began.
“I repeat,” Ariel interrupted, “I still don’t see how this concerns us.”
Lanra shifted uncomfortably. “Forgive me, but it was my understanding
that you are the liaison from the Calvin Institute here on Earth.”
Ariel pursed her lips, inclining her head as if to say And...?
“This is a robotics issue,” Lanra said. “Your field. Positronics.” His expression darkened. “I don’t know anyone else here. If there are other specialists, I’m not aware of any–at least, none I can get access to.”
“And none you’d want to confide this to in any case,” Ariel said. “I suppose you want us to try to recover its memories, if possible.”
“Something like that.”
Ariel laughed sharply. “How much do you know about our situation, Mr. Lanra? Mia surely told you something about our current problems. I can’t believe you’d come here like this without having done a little background work.”
Lanra straightened in his chair and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I know that you aren’t held in very high esteem by your own people. Last year’s events with Senator Eliton–”
“Ex-Senator Eliton,” Ariel said crossly.
“–didn’t come out in your favor, as perhaps they should have.”
“That’s generous of you, Mr. Lanra,” Derec said.”
Generous? No, Mr. Avery, merely fair. Ex-Senator Eliton’s duplicity cost us all a gram or two of flesh. We were both under scrutiny for things Eliton engineered.”
Faking his own death to discredit positronics, Spacer diplomacy, ruin a long-overdue reconciliation with Earth, Derec thought bitterly, and wrecking my own ambitions as a side-effect... yes, that was an expensive experience.
“Involving ourselves in Terran affairs,” Ariel said slowly, “cost us perhaps a bit more than you know.”
“I may be able to help you defray some of those costs.”
Ariel shook her head. “Based on the chance that Rega Looms will be elected to the Terran Senate? You have to know how ironic that would be to us.” She stood. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lanra, but I don’t really think there’s anything we can do to help you.”
“You haven’t heard everything yet, “Lanra said, rising.
“I’m not interested.”
“Then why did you agree to see me?”
“Simple courtesy, Mr. Lanra. You were helpful to us last year. I’m sorry we can’t return the favor, but the situation is too complicated just now. If you’ll excuse me.”
“But–”
Derec watched Ariel end the interview with a firm shake of her head. She glanced at him, then left the office, leaving Lanra staring after her.
The door closed and Lanra sighed heavily. He looked at Derec. “I don’t suppose you can do anything?”
“Like what? Talk her into something that I agree is a bad idea?”
“I thought you’d be interested in the problem. I thought you might welcome a chance to–”
Derec shook his head.
“You’re not interested?”
Derec laughed. “Of course I’m interested. That’s beside the point.”
“You’re a private citizen, Mr. Avery. Would you consider taking the job as a consultant? I imagine Ambassador Burgess could order you to stay here, but would she if you took this up of your own choice?”
Lanra’s eyes danced knowingly, as if he knew something about Derec no one else did. Under other circumstances, Derec decided, Coren Lanra might be an interesting man to know.
“We misjudged you, “Derec said. “You knew exactly what our problems were before you came in here, didn’t you? I’m not exactly a private citizen, not in any way that gives me the freedom of movement to do what you ask. Aurora’s entire policy is one of wait and see, don’t move, stay still and maybe the situation will change. So even if Ariel might want to help you, it’s doubtful Ambassador Setaris would allow it. But you knew all this. Why pretend otherwise?”
“I didn’t want anyone to feel pressured. People work better if they think they have a choice.” Lanra shrugged. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Avery. Perhaps under other circumstances...” He headed for the exit. “If you reconsider–”
“I have your code, sir,” Hofton said.
“Thanks.”
The door closed softly and Derec let out a heavy breath. He considered for a few moments doing exactly what Lanra suggested: taking the job, whatever it was, and chancing Ariel’s anger.
But she had a good point–what chance was there that Rega Looms could win his run for the Senate? And if he did, how likely would it be that he would help the very people he most wanted off Earth?
“I hate it when she’s so right,” Derec said. He looked up then at Hofton, who seemed amused. “You were awfully quiet.”
“Not my place to interject opinion,” Hofton said. “Besides, I concur with Ariel’s assessment.”
“What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had been assigned to another department.”
“Which has been shut down. I’m taking leave from official duties for a time. Ariel asked me to attend this meeting as a favor.”
Another department closed... The Auroran presence on Earth shrank a little more each week. Ariel kept these offices only because they had no other use for them. She retained her title and, presumably, her perks for appearances only, but Derec knew that Ambassador Setaris would ship her back to Aurora in an instant if she could. Derec, too, for that matter. They were embarrassments to the Auroran mission here; they stayed only because admitting it to Earth by recalling them would be more embarrassing.
But it would not take much to shift that balance.
Still, to get his hands on a complete positronic lab would be worth a few risks. He might be able to get Thales the extra memory buffers then, might be able to set up a more thorough analysis protocol on Bogard, while working on Lanra’s problem, might–
“Derec. “Ariel stood in the doorway. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I know you too damn well. “Ariel poured them drinks. Hofton sat now in the chair vacated by Coren Lanra. Derec reflected idly that he had never before seen Hofton relaxing. Ariel handed him a scotch, then gave another to Derec.
“You were just as tempted as I was,” Derec said.
“I doubt it. I’ve had enough of being burned by Terrans.”
Derec sipped at his drink. “But think of it! Rega Looms, the great Luddite, has–had–a daughter who owned a robot.”
“If I may point out,” Hofton said, “Mr. Lanra said a robot was found in her company. He never said she owned it.”
“She was a baley runner,” Derec said. “That’s what Lanra said: she was running illegal emigrants, she was in charge. I don’t think a baley slipping by ITE would be allowed to bring along a robot. Therefore, it’s only logical that it was hers.”
“Lanra probably thinks the robot killed her,” Ariel said. “He wants us to substantiate his suspicion. That would be convenient, wouldn’t it? Any help Rega Looms might have been able to offer would evaporate when we hand him verification of his worst fears.”
“Come on,” Derec protested. “How could that be? From his description, the robot is collapsed. Obviously a Three Law violation occurred–”
“You had a robot that collapsed after it killed someone.”
Derec stiffened. “That was an accident.”
Ariel shrugged. “Whatever. So might this have been. Would Rega Looms appreciate the difference?”
“It’s doubtful in any event,” Hofton said, “that Mr. Looms–should he win the election–could do anything on our behalf under any circumstances without compromising his newly-won mandate. Should he win, he will do so as the avatar of the anti-robot faction and, unless I’ve misunderstood his rhetoric, the anti-Spacer faction as well. Added to that, his daughter was engaged in illegal activities that ran counter to his political position and the rhetoric of his church. That can’t be explained away. I suspect Mr. Lanra is offering what he cannot guarantee.”
“If Coren Lanra has his way,” Ariel said, “none of this will ever become public. He’s doing damage control.”
“Precisely,” Hofton said
. “And with no public reason to do so, Looms will have no private reason to fulfill any obligations his agents may make without his knowledge.”
“Rega Looms has a dead daughter,” Derec said. “Someone’s going to notice.”
They sat in silence for a time, brooding. Derec began to resent Lanra for bringing something to them that offered the possibility of rehabilitating their situation. Raised hopes crumbled too easily under analysis.
“It would be interesting,” Hofton said finally, “to know where she got a robot. And how she managed to keep it with her.” He finished his drink and stood. “I have a few chores to tend to. Thank you for the chance to act the part of your aide once more. It was fun. Should you need further performances...”
“You’ll be the first I call, Hofton,” Ariel said, smiling wanly. “Thanks.”
Hofton bowed his head. “Ambassador.” He walked out.
“I’m going to miss him,” Ariel said.
Derec shot her a look. “Have you heard something?”
“No, but how much longer could it be?” She leaned forward and turned her glass idly on the desk. “I still do a little liaison work so I get to keep track of some of the numbers of illicit robot traffic. There’s still activity, but it’s declined precipitously in the last year.”
“Is that a surprise? ITE must be working overtime now that they feel they have permission.”
“Mmm. Mostly, I get to do P.R. work with irate Spacer businesses. The latest was a complaint about a five-hour delay in shipping. An unscheduled route change out of Petrabor spaceport.” She shrugged. “Five hours. You’d think the world was ending to hear the complaint. Too much excitement sometimes.” She smiled grimly. “Did you know Alda Mikels is being released next week?”
“I thought he was sentenced to ten years for public endangerment.”
Ariel shrugged. “Terran jurisprudence. Damned if I can see what’s prudent about it. But how long after that do you think it will be before he starts haranguing us in public of trying to bring a suit against us? That might just convince Setaris to ship us home.”