by Isaac Asimov
Their host had told them of many things, things forgotten for centuries. He spoke of ancient history, of Earth, now uninhabitable, the origin of the human race. Even now, they were under the surface of Earth’s giant satellite, orbiting that forgotten world. He had told them of humanity’s first colonies on other worlds: the Spacer worlds, which Trevize and his companions had visited on their search for this place; Solaria, where they had found Fallom. Pelorat had been delighted at finding answers to so many of the things he had spent his life studying.
Trevize had also found his answer, a reason for the decision Trevize himself had made months ago. The decision his gut told him had to be right, even though everything else in his nature still railed against it. Until that decision had come, Trevize had never questioned his intuition. There were times when he just knew. It was inexplicable, but no explanation was necessary. Until Gaia. That choice had demanded more, demanded a reason, and here they had found it.
Now he and Pelorat waited for more answers. Their interview with their host had gone on at some length when a man had come from elsewhere in the complex. The message he brought Daneel had come as a surprise to all three of the travelers: an ship had been detected nearby, and was on approach to land.
This ship arriving so shortly after the Far Star could be no coincidence, not in this forgotten place. And no one could have followed them across so many jumps. Trevize was an impressive pilot, and his ship was the best the Foundation had to offer; even an equivalent ship with an incredible pilot would have been hard-pressed. That left one explanation: someone else knew where this place was, and had been waiting for their arrival. Their host had confirmed as much, saying the ship was both friendly an expected, but he refused to say more. In a place as strange as this, Trevize took nothing for granted. Still, leaving was not an option, not without Bliss, and Bliss insisted on staying with Fallom. There was nothing for it but to wait.
In truth, Trevize was quite certain he would have stayed anyway, just to see what happened next. Looking at this strange vessel he wasn’t nervous. He was so calm it surprised even him. Now that he was satisfied, his own curiosity and enjoyment made these mysterious visitors something he would not wish to miss. As if anything could possibly make this place stranger!
“What do you think they’re waiting for, old chap?” Pelorat asked him quietly, glancing nervously between the ship and the figure standing before it. Normally the historian would have been babbling incessantly, especially after the revelations they had just received. But not now. Trevize knew his friend was worried, and not just about the ship or its occupants.
“She’ll be all right, Janov,” Trevize said. “Don’t worry about her.” Pelorat had been taken with Bliss almost since meeting her, and surprisingly, the much younger woman had returned his affections. Though given how little age meant to Gaia, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising.
Pelorat said nothing in return. Trevize knew nothing would stop him from worrying about Bliss, and about how she would handle their host’s plans for the child. It was almost cute, in its way. Trevize was far from the greatest advocate of monogamy the galaxy had ever seen, nor did he care for Bliss on general principle. But as annoying (and noisy) as Pelorat and Bliss could be, Trevize almost admired the old man’s devotion to her. Almost.
With a deep rumble, the airlock of the ship began to open. Pelorat stiffened, wiping his hands on his tunic. Trevize crossed his arms, trying to remain nonchalant. Since leaving Terminus all those months ago, he had seen things he would never have believed: a living planet with a single mind, entire worlds long dead, Solaria perhaps strangest of all, not to mention this place! Nothing short of Hari Seldon himself walking off that ship would be able to shock him. Still, he stayed with Janov on the sidelines, waiting to see what would happen.
The inner airlock door opened, and three human figures stepped out of the ship, two males and a female. Trevize took a moment to size up each one, though he knew appearances would mean little if his suspicions were correct. In front was the female, a petite and not unattractive young woman. Behind her came a strikingly large male, seemingly about Trevize’s own age. He was not obese, simply massive, almost mountainous. Bringing up the rear was a smaller, older looking male. The woman was actually quite pretty, Trevize decided, but the large man caught his attention most. His face was also the most expressive of the group, the other two being far more reserved, nearly unreadable. All three gave an appearance of total confidence, but only he seemed comfortable as well. As if he had been here before.
The three stepped forward, facing their host, who had still to react so far as could be seen. Trevize noticed that all stood in an even row, none seeming to show any deference to the others. Did this group have a leader, as their host seemed to be for his followers? He and Pelorat hung back, silent.
The smaller male spoke. “R. Daneel Olivaw, we come offering truce, under the terms of the ancient armistice,” he said without inflection. “We will do no violence while present, nor will we reveal your location after our departure.” Trevize knew a per-arranged wording when he heard it.
“Your offer of truce is accepted, R. Turringen Askar,” their host replied with equal formality. “You will be protected in our sanctuary until your departure.” So. Not friends after all. Trevize was not remotely surprised.
Daneel turned slightly to the female. “Zorma, I presume?” She nodded slightly, and he now turned to the larger figure. “You have forged an impressive alliance, Lodovik. Your diplomatic skills are as impressive as ever.”
Before the large man could respond, the one called Turringen interrupted. “We are not here as allies, Daneel Olivaw. Both of these remain abominations,” he said, gesturing to Zorma and Lodovik. Abominations. Trevize had heard the word occasionally before, but it was typically only used in religious circles. Odd. Turringen continued, “Lodovik has told us of a new heresy you have prepared, one apparently even greater than your so-called Zeroth Law. We have merely come to bear witness to your latest scheme.” Despite the apparent passion of some of his words, Turringen’s tone was perfectly calm. Up until that point, all three of the new arrivals had focused on Daneel, but now Turringen turned momentarily to look at Trevize and Pelorat. No, Trevize realized. Turringen had looked only at him, directly and specifically. It wasn’t a threatening look, but this Turringen obviously knew him. Trevize’s previous calm left him. What was going on here?
Daneel nodded, still looking at Lodovik. “Most impressive,” he said again.
“I learned from you, Daneel,” Lodovik replied with a slight smile. A smile?
Trevize had had enough of this. It was time to find out what was going on here. “Hello!” he said enthusiastically, as he walked over to the group. Trevize saw Pelorat start as the four all turned to face them. Obviously Pelorat had expected Trevize to try and stay unnoticed, as he was trying to do. You know me better than that, Janov. He came to the female first, and extended his hand. “My name is Golan Trevize,” he said with a slight bow.
For the first time since exiting the ship, the woman smiled, suddenly becoming much more attractive. She took his hand, and Trevize kissed hers out of long habit. It was warm, though he knew by now that meant nothing. “We know who you are, Councilman Trevize. I suspect we’ve come here to see you.”
“My presence has been in great demand lately, it seems. How flattering,” he replied politely, letting his words instead of his tone carry the sarcasm. “Unfortunately, if you want me to decide the fate of the universe again, I’m afraid I’m out of that business. Aside from that, what can I do for you?”
The one called Turringen spoke. “Master,” he said, almost reverently, “we do not wish you to do anything for us. We wish only to serve you as best we can.”
“And how do you plan to do that, exactly?” Trevize asked pointedly, releasing Zorma’s hand and looking Turringen square in the face.
Lodovik spoke before Turringen could answer. “I believe these explanations are best saved for a later ti
me, Daneel. Perhaps rest is in order before further discussion.”
Trevize almost insisted that now was a perfect time. He preferred to keep people off balance, to not give them time to plan their reactions, even though with this group he didn’t expect that approach would be of much value. But before he could respond, Trevize felt a hand on his arm. “He’s right, Golan,” Janov said quietly in his ear. “It’s been a long trip, and some of us aren’t as young as you. Besides, I want to check on Bliss. And she should hear whatever they have to say.”
Trevize knew what his friend was implying. Gaia should hear whatever they have to say. He was right, of course. Having her with them had been annoying, but she had proved invaluable any number of times. Now she might again.
Trevize nodded. “Later, then,” he said, smiling at Zorma once more. She smiled again in return, seeming to display genuine warmth in addition to mere politeness. Interesting...
Daneel spoke, ending the moment. “Then we will wait until you are rested from your journey. Gentlemen, accommodations have been prepared for you and your companion. Dors, please escort Councilman Trevize and Doctor Pelorat to their rooms.”
It took a moment for Trevize to realize that Daneel was addressing someone else in the landing bay, someone he had not noticed. He turned to find a powerful-looking woman standing some distance behind him and Pelorat. She had obviously arrived silently at some point in the conversation. When had he last looked back there?
She said nothing to them, only nodded to Daneel and began to walk towards an unmarked door. For his part, Pelorat had not seemed to consider it at all odd that someone else had arrived without his noticing. The entire situation made him too nervous for small things like that to register. The historian merely looked to his friend. Trevize could only shrug, and he and Pelorat quickly fell in line behind the female as she led them away from the landing area, leaving Daneel and the other three behind.
Their guide was not at all talkative, and neither man made the effort to engage her. Trevize knew that anything they said would be heard, but out of habit he still waited until they were a ways down the corridor before asking his friend quietly, “So what do you think, Janov?”
“I don’t know what to think, Golan,” came the response. Trevize could tell from his tone that his friend really was tired. And truth be told, so was he. Pelorat nervously glanced ahead towards their guide, but she seemed to be paying them little attention. “You noticed their names?” he asked quietly.
Trevize nodded. “I noticed. ‘R.’-whatever, at least for the men, and I’d bet the woman, too. And-” he tilted his head to their guide, and Pelorat nodded, understanding. “Just like Daneel.”
“They’re all robots.”
Chapter 2
HOSPITAL-... INDEED, LARGE-SCALE MEDICAL FACILITIES ARE ONE OF THE FEW CONSTANTS TO BE FOUND ON ANY INHABITED PLANET. DESPITE THE MILLIONS OF WORLDS, AND NEARLY AS MANY DISTINCT ARCHITECTURES AND STYLES, THERE CAN BE LITTLE FUNCTIONAL VARIATION IN THE TREATMENT OF HUMAN ILLNESS AND DISEASE. THE TECHNOLOGY AND TECHNIQUE MAY VARY, BUT ANY TRAVELER OF THE GALAXY DURING ANY PERIOD IN RECORDED HISTORY COULD RECOGNIZE A ROOM DEDICATED TO THE PRACTICE OF MEDICINE...
THE ROOM IN which the woman stood was immediately recognizable as the infirmary. One wall of the room was empty except for the large door to an automated lift. The door was closed, the lift having been called to a level some distance away. A large bank of electronic equipment and cabinets covered the wall opposite the entryway. The other two walls were lined with beds, any one of which could be separated from the rest of the room by curtains. All the beds were visibly empty. The examination table in the middle of the room wasn’t.
On it lay Fallom, who was paying no attention to her surroundings at all. All her attention was fixed on the robot that was operating the equipment, analyzing her. Fallom had been raised by robots, most particularly one named Jemby, and she felt most comfortable in their care. Jemby had been deactivated when Gaia was forced to kill Fallom’s parent, but the child failed to understand this. She didn’t even understand that she had left her home world. To her, all worlds were Solaria, and all robots were her guardians. She had even concluded that Daneel was Jemby, even though Jemby had been a metallic robot, and Daneel was visually indistinguishable from a human. Appearances obviously meant little to the child.
She was therefore unfazed by the appearance of the robot standing over her. Unlike the other robots in the installation, this one was could never be confused for a human. For one thing, it was obviously made of metal, but even artificial flesh would not have disguised his nature. There were no humans in the galaxy with three legs and four arms. The robot was easily using three of its arms to operate the medical equipment. Fallom was playing with the fourth, trying to catch it as the robot moved it idly around, obviously attempting to entertain the child. And succeeding quite well, it seemed. Bliss looked on from a distance.
“She seems quite fascinated with Yan,” the robot who had introduced himself as R. Zun Lurrin observed quietly to her. But he could tell that Bliss hardly even heard him. Ever since Daneel had ordered him to guide them to the infirmary, Zun had been observing Bliss’s distress over the child with increasing concern. She’d stopped crying shortly after leaving the simulated mansion they had entered upon landing, but he knew that was only an outward change. Bliss was part of Gaia, and she could draw strength from her world even at this great distance. But Zun could tell she was still in pain, and he wondered if he might do something to help her.
Zun was one of the youngest robots in Daneel’s service, at a mere 2,200 years old, and one of the few that had the same mentalic abilities as Daneel. During his existence (he was reluctant to apply the word ‘life’ to himself), Zun had played many roles, taking advantage of his human guise to fit into their societies, as they all did. He had traveled among mankind unseen, helping maintain stability in the galaxy. But even the smallest change could have unpredictable consequences. Modifying a single mind in the wrong way could lead to untold destruction. Thus, only those changes that were absolutely necessary to protect humanity could be made.
In some sense, they had played the same role as Seldon’s Second Foundation, though in far less exact fashion. Where the Second Foundation worked with mathematical predictions to bring about a specific future, Daneel’s forces had always maintained the status quo, working more or less successfully to keep society stable. At least, they had until five centuries ago, when the empire had been allowed to collapse and the Foundations were created. With the powerful mentalics of the Second Foundation now spread throughout the galaxy, the risk of discovery was now too great. Zun had been on few missions since that time, instead remaining near Daneel, assisting his leader as his status continued to worsen.
Zun looked at Bliss, weighing his options. In all his hundreds of assumed personalities, Zun had never used his talents or positions to ease the suffering of an individual human being. For Calvinian robots, there would be no choice but to assist a human being in distress. But as a Giskardian, Zun had always found himself constrained under the Zeroth Law by whatever mission he was on at the time, and had been unable to help. Zeroth Law or no, however, Zun still experienced an internal conflict at being unable to relieve human suffering. The first time this had occurred, he had mentioned it to Daneel, asking what could be done to rectify the problem. The older robot had told him that such responses were inevitable, but that the problem would diminish with time and experience.
Zun quickly found that Daneel had been right; the conflict (he supposed a human might call it regret) he felt every time he passed a sick man or a homeless child decreased. But it had never vanished entirely. And now, for the first time in his entire existence, he was faced with an individual human in pain, and had no overriding reason not to help. He could make no significant changes, certainly, nothing to make her forget or stop caring about Fallom’s fate. That in itself would qualify as harm to her, to his judgment. But perhaps he could provide some simple comfort, at l
east dulling the pain. He focused, stretched out his mind towards hers …
GAIA
Zun involuntarily jerked backwards as he made contact, instantly realizing the enormity of his mistake. He had observed some of Daneel’s early experiments in unified human consciousness on Eos, even participated in a few, but this was beyond that by orders of magnitude. By making contact with Bliss he had made contact with all of Gaia, and it’s great power had nearly overwhelmed him. The connection had lasted a less than a hundredth of a second, but even that instant had taken its toll on him. Zun began running internal diagnostics, checking for damage. Much longer and he might have involuntarily deactivated, he realized. Yet Daneel had somehow survived being in constant contact with Gaia for longer than Zun knew. Perhaps it was not mere age that was taking its toll on the older robot.
As he tried to recover his composure, and reorder his thoughts, Zun realized that Bliss was now looking at him. From above. He was no longer standing, he realized.
“I apologize, ma’am,” he said automatically, though with some difficulty. It was another new feeling, potentially offending a human, and for the first time having no overriding reason. Zun was surprised by the intensity of the sensation.
Few robots now operating, Daneel, Yan, a few others, knew what it was like to directly serve a human being. All robots ultimately served humanity, one way or another, whether they would admit to the Zeroth Law or not. The only true debate among their factions was how best to do so. But in their deepest programming, nothing could satisfy a robot like the feeling of following the direct orders of a competent human master. The terrible sensation of having offended this woman made his response automatic, even after centuries of disuse. Humanity made their servants well, came the thought. There was none of the bitterness a human might have felt at such an idea. Robots existed to serve-
Zun detected Bliss’s intrusion into his mind before he could say anything else. Conflicting potentials developed in Zun’s positronic brain, and rapidly began to increase. He knew that in a human, the sensation would have been described as fear, nearing panic. His mind had not been penetrated in this way since his initial training with Daneel, and Bliss had bypassed all his defenses, seemingly without effort. He was completely vulnerable. If she was so inclined, she could easily destroy him beyond any hope of repair. Trying to fight the intrusion was not an option, even if it were possible. He could not hurt a human without overriding benefit to humanity.