by Isaac Asimov
Gladia frowned. “Why should they want me? I’ve been on Aurora for over twenty decades and at no time have they ever seemed to want me. – Wait! Do you suppose they see me now as the only way of stopping the overseers on Solaria?”
“That thought had occurred to me, my lady.”
“I won’t do it. I held off that one overseer by a hair and I may never be able to repeat what I did then. I know I won’t. – Besides, why need they land on the planet? They can destroy the overseers from a distance, now that they know what they are.”
“Actually,” said D.G., “the message demanding your return was sent out long before they could possibly have known of your conflict with the overseer. They must want you for something else.”
“Oh. “She looked taken aback. Then, catching fire again, “I don’t care what else. I don’t want to return. I have my work out here and I mean to continue it.”
D.G. rose. “I am glad to hear you say so, Madam Gladia. I was hoping you would feel like that. I promise you I will do my best to take you with me when we leave Aurora. Right now, though, I must go to Aurora and you must go with me.”
40.
Gladia watched Baleyworld, as it receded, with emotions quite different from those with which she had watched it approach. It was precisely the cold, gray, miserable world now that it had seemed at the start, but there was a warmth and life to the people. They were real, solid.
Solaria, Aurora, the other Spacer worlds that she had visited or had viewed on hypervision, all seemed filled with people who were insubstantial – gaseous.
That was the word. Gaseous.
No matter how few the human beings who lived upon a Spacer world, they spread out to fill the planet in the same way that molecules of gas spread out to fill a container. It was as if Spacers repelled each other.
And they did, she thought gloomily. Spacers had always repelled her. She had been brought up to such repulsion on Solaria, but even on Aurora, when she was experimenting madly with sex just at first, the least enjoyable aspect of it was the closeness it made necessary.
Except – except with Elijah. – But he was not a Spacer.
Baleyworld was not like that. Probably all the Settler worlds were not. Settlers clung together, leaving large tracts desolate about them as the price of the clinging – empty, that is, until population increase filled it. A Settler world was a world of people clusters, of pebbles and boulders, not gas.
Why was this? Robots, perhaps! They lessened the dependence of people upon people. They filled the interstices between. They were the insulation that diminished the natural attraction people had for each other, so that the whole system fell apart into isolates.
It had to be. Nowhere were there more robots than on Solaria and the insulating effect there had been so enormous that the separate gas molecules that were human beings became so totally inert that they almost never interrelated at all. (Where had the Solarians gone, she wondered again, and how were they living?)
And long life had something to do with it, too. How could one make an emotional attachment that wouldn’t turn slowly sour as the multidecades passed – or, if one died, how could another bear the loss for multidecades? One learned, then, not to make emotional attachments but to stand off, to insulate one’s self.
On the other hand, human beings, if short-lived, could not so easily outlive fascination with life. As the generations passed by rapidly, the ball of fascination bounced from hand to hand without ever touching the ground.
How recently she had told D.G. that there was no more to do or know, that she had experienced and thought everything, that she had to live on in utter boredom. – And she hadn’t known or even dreamed, as she spoke, of crowds of people, one upon another; of speaking to many as they melted into a continuous sea of heads; of hearing their response, not in words but in wordless sounds; of melting together with them, feeling their feelings, becoming one large organism.
It was not merely that she had never experienced such a thing before, it was that she had never dreamed anything like that might be experienced. How much more did she know nothing of despite her long life? What more existed for the experiencing that she was incapable of fantasying?
Daneel said gently, “Madam Gladia, I believe the captain is signaling for entrance.”
Gladia started. “Let him enter, then.”
D.G. entered, eyebrows raised. “I am relieved. I thought perhaps you were not at home.”
Gladia smiled. “In a way, I wasn’t. I was lost in thought. It happens to me sometimes.”
“You are fortunate,” said D.G. “My thoughts are never large enough to be lost in. Are you reconciled to visiting Aurora, madam?”
“No, I’m not. And among the thoughts in which I was lost was one to the effect that I still do not have any idea why you must go to Aurora. It can’t be only to return me. Any spaceworthy cargo tug could have done the job.”
“May I sit down, madam?”
“Yes, of course. That goes without saying, Captain. I wish you’d stop treating me as aristocracy. It becomes wearing. And if it’s an ironic indication that I’m a Spacer, then it’s worse than wearing. In fact, I’d almost rather you called me Gladia.”
“You seem to be anxious to disown your Spacer identity, Gladia,” said D.G. as he seated himself and crossed his legs.
“I would rather forget nonessential distinctions.”
“Nonessential? Not while you live five times as long as I do.”
“Oddly enough, I have been thinking of that as a rather annoying disadvantage for Spacers. – How long before we reach Aurora?”
“No evasive action this time. A few days to get far enough from our sun to be able to make a Jump through hyperspace that will take us to within a few days of Auroraand that’s it.”
“And why must you go to Aurora, D.G.?”
“I might say it was simply politeness, but in actual fact, I would like an opportunity to explain to your Chairman or even to one of his subordinates – exactly what happened on Solaria.”
“Don’t they know what happened?”
“In essentials, they do. They were kind enough to tap our communications, as we would have done theirs if the situation had been reversed. Still, they may not have drawn the proper conclusions. I would like to correct them – if that is so.”
“What are the proper conclusions, D.G.?”
“As you know, the overseers on Solaria were geared to respond to a person as human only if he or she spoke with a Solarian accent, as you did. That means that not only were Settlers not considered human, but non-Solarian Spacers were not considered human, either. To be precise, Aurorans would not be considered human beings if they had landed on Solaria.”
Gladia’s eyes widened. “That’s unbelievable. The Solarians wouldn’t arrange to have the overseers treat Aurorans as they treated you.”
“Wouldn’t they? They have already destroyed an Auroran ship. Did you know that?”
“An Auroran ship! No, I didn’t know that.”
“I assure you they did. It landed about the time we did. We got away, but they didn’t. We had you, you see, and they didn’t. The conclusion is – or should be – that Aurora cannot automatically treat other Spacer worlds as allies. In an emergency, it will be each Spacer world for itself.”
Gladia shook her head violently. “It would be unsafe to generalize from a single instance. The Solarians would have found it difficult to have the overseers react favorably to fifty accents and unfavorably to scores of others. It was easier to pin them to a single accent. That’s all. They gambled that no other Spacers would try to land on their world and they lost.”
“Yes, I’m sure that is how the Auroran leadership will argue, since people generally find it much easier to make a pleasant deduction than an unpleasant one. What I want to do is to make certain they see the possibility of the unpleasant one – and that this makes them uncomfortable indeed. Forgive my self-love, but I can’t trust anyone to do it as well as I can an
d therefore I think that I, rather than anyone else, should go to Aurora.”
Gladia felt uncomfortably tom. She did not want to be a Spacer; she wanted to be a human being and forget what she had just called “nonessential distinctions. “And yet when D.G. spoke with obvious satisfaction of forcing Aurora into a humiliating position, she found herself still somehow a Spacer.
She said in annoyance, “I presume the Settler worlds are at odds among themselves, too. Is it not each Settler world for itself?”
D.G. shook his head. “It may seem to you that this must be so and I wouldn’t be surprised if each individual Settler world had the impulse at times to put its own interest over the good of the whole, but we have something you Spacers lack.”
“And what is that. A greater nobility?”
“Of course not. We’re no more noble than Spacers are. What we’ve got is the Earth. It’s our world. Every Settler visits Earth as often as he can. Every Settler knows that there is a world, a large, advanced world, with an incredibly rich history and cultural variety and ecological complexity that is his or hers and to which he or she belongs. The Settler worlds might quarrel with each other, but the quarrel cannot possibly result in violence or in a permanent breach of relations, for the Earth government is automatically called in to mediate all problems and its decision is sufficient and unquestioned.
“Those are our three advantages, Gladia: the lack of robots, something that allows us to build new worlds with our own hands; the rapid succession of generations, which makes for constant change; and, most of all, the Earth, which gives us our central core.”
Gladia said urgently, “But the Spacers –” and she stopped.
D.G. smiled and said with an edge of bitterness, “Were you going to say that the Spacers are also descended from Earthpeople and that it is their planet, too? Factually true, but psychologically false. The Spacers have done their best to deny their heritage. They don’t consider themselves Earthmen once-removed – or any-number-removed. If I were a mystic, I would say that by cutting themselves away from their roots, the Spacers cannot survive long. Of course, I’m not a mystic so I don’t put it that way – but they cannot survive long, just the same. I believe that.”
Then, after a short pause, he added, with a somewhat troubled kindness, as though he realized that in his exultation he was striking a sensitive spot within her, “But please think of yourself as a human being, Gladia, rather than as a Spacer, and I will think of myself as a human being, rather than as a Settler. Humanity will survive, whether it will be in the form of Settlers or Spacers or both. I believe it will be in the form of Settlers only, but I may be wrong.”
“No,” said Gladia, trying to be unemotional. “I think you’re right – unless somehow people learn to stop making the Spacer/Settler distinction. It is my goal – to help people do that.”
“However,” said D.G., glancing at the dim time strip that circled the wall, “I delay your dinner. May I eat with you?”
“Certainly,” said Gladia.
D.G. rose to his feet. “Then I’ll go get it. I’d send Daneel or Giskard, but I don’t ever want to get into the habit of ordering robots about. Besides, however much the crew adores you, I don’t think their adoration extends to your robots.”
Gladia did not actually enjoy the meal when D.G. brought it. She did not seem to grow accustomed to the lack of subtlety in its flavors that might be the heritage of Earth cooking of yeast for mass consumption, but then, neither was it particularly repulsive. She ate stolidly.
D.G., noting her lack of enthusiasm, said, “The food doesn’t upset you, I hope?”
She shook her head. “No. Apparently, I’m acclimated. I had some unpleasant episodes when I first got on the ship, but nothing really severe.”
“I’m glad of that, but, Gladia –”
“Yes?”
“Can you suggest no reason why the Auroran government should want you back so urgently? It can’t be your handling of the overseer and it can’t be your speech. The request was sent out well before they could have known of either.”
“In that case, D.G.,” Gladia said sadly, “they can’t possibly want me for anything. They never have.”
“But there must be something. As I told you, the message arrived in the name of the Chairman of the Council of Aurora.”
‘This particular Chairman at this particular time is thought to be rather a figurehead.”
“Oh? Who stands behind him? Kelden Amadiro?”
“Exactly. You know of him, then.”
“Oh, yes,” said D.G. grimly, “the center of anti-Earth fanaticism. The man who was politically smashed by Dr. Fastolfe twenty decades ago survives to threaten us again. There’s an example of the dead hand of longevity.”
“But there’s the puzzle, too.” Gladia said. “Amadiro is a vengeful man. He knows that it was Elijah Baley who was the cause of that defeat you speak of and Amadiro believes I shared responsibility. His dislike – extreme dislike – extends to me. If the Chairman wants me, that can only be because Amadiro wants me – and why should Amadiro want me? He would rather get rid of me. That’s probably why he sent me along with you to Solaria. Surely he expected your ship would be destroyed – and me along with it. And that would not have pained him at all.”
“No uncontrollable tears, eh?” said D.G. thoughtfully. “But surely that’s not what you were told. No one said to you, ‘Go with this mad Trader because it would give us pleasure to have you killed. ‘”
“No. They said that you wanted my help badly and that it was politic to cooperate with the Settler worlds at the moment and that it would do Aurora a great deal of good if I would report back to them on all that occurred on Solaria once I returned.”
“Yes, they would say so. They might even have meant it to some extent. Then, when – against all their expectations – our ship got off safely while an Auroran ship was destroyed, they might well have wanted a firsthand account of what happened. Therefore, when I took you to Baleyworld instead of back to Aurora, they would scream for your return. That might possibly be it. By now, of course, they know the story, so they might no longer want you. Though” – he was talking to himself rather than to Gladia – “what they know is what they picked up from Baleyworld hypervision and they may not choose to accept that at face value. And yet –”
“And yet what, D.G.?”
“Somehow instinct tells me that their message could not have been sparked only by their desire to have you report. The forcefulness of the demand, it seems to me, went beyond that.”
“There’s nothing else they can want. Nothing,” said Gladia.
“I wonder,” said D.G.
41.
“I wonder as well,” said Daneel from his wall niche that night.
“You wonder concerning what, friend Daneel?” asked Giskard.
“I wonder concerning the true significance of the message from Aurora demanding Lady Gladia. To me, as to the captain, a desire for a report seems a not altogether sufficient motivation.”
“Have you an alternate suggestion?”
“I have a thought, friend Giskard.”
“May I know it, friend Daneel?”
“It has occurred to me that, in demanding the return of Madam Gladia, the Auroran Council may expect to see more than they ask for – and it may not be Madam Gladia they want.”
“What is there more than Madam Gladia that they will get?”
“Friend Giskard, is it conceivable that Lady Gladia will return without you and me?”
“No, but of what use to the Auroran Council would you and I be?”
“I, friend Giskard, would be of no use to them. You, however, are unique, for you can sense minds directly.”
“That is true, friend Daneel, but they do not know this.”
“Since our leaving, is it not possible that they have somehow discovered the fact and have come to regret bitterly having allowed you to leave Aurora?”
Giskard did not hesitate perceptibly.
“No, it is not possible, friend Daneel. How would they have found out?”
Daneel said carefully, “I have reasoned in this fashion. You have, on your long-ago visit to Earth with Dr. Fastolfe, managed to adjust a few Earth robots so as to allow them a very limited mental capacity, merely enough to enable them to continue your work of influencing officials on Earth to look with courage and favor on the process of Settlement. So, at least, you once told me. There are, therefore, robots on Earth that are capable of mind-adjusting.
“Then, too, as we have come recently to suspect, the Robotics Institute of Aurora has sent humanoid robots to Earth. We do not know their precise purpose in doing so, but the least that can be expected of such robots is that they observe events there on Earth and report on them.
“Even if the Auroran robots cannot sense minds, they can send back reports to the effect that this or that official has suddenly changed his attitude toward Settlement and, perhaps, in the time since we have left Aurora, it has dawned on someone in power in Aurora – on Dr. Amadiro himself perhaps – that this can only be explained by the existence of mind-adjusting robots on Earth. It may be, then, that the establishment of mind-adjusting can be traced back to either Dr. Fastolfe or yourself.
“This might, in turn, make clear to Auroran officials the meaning of certain other events, which might be traced back to you rather than to Dr. Fastolfe. As a result, they would want you back desperately, yet not be able to ask for you directly, for that would give away the fact of their new knowledge. So they ask for Lady Gladia – a natural request – knowing that if she is brought back, you will be, too.”
Giskard was silent for a full minute, then he said, “It is interestingly reasoned, friend Daneel, but it does not hold together. Those robots whom I designed for the task of encouraging Settlement completed their job more than eighteen decades ago and have been inactive since, at least as far as mind-adjustment is concerned. What’s more, the Earth removed robots from their Cities and confined them to the unpopulated non-City areas quite a considerable time ago.