Asimov’s Future History Volume 4

by Isaac Asimov

  “An astonishing coincidence that Daneel should be right at hand at that time.”

  “Oh? Do you believe in coincidences? It is my feeling that any time at which a development as revolutionary as the humaniform robot came into being, some task that would require its use would present itself. Similar tasks had probably been presenting themselves regularly in all the years that Daneel did not exist–and because Daneel did not exist, other solutions and devices had to be used.”

  “And have your labors been successful, Dr. Fastolfe? Do you now understand the human brain better than you did?”

  Fastolfe had been moving more and more slowly and Baley had been matching his progress to the other’s. They were now standing still, about halfway between Fastolfe’s establishment and the other’s. It was the most difficult point for Baley, since it was equally distant from protection in either direction, but he fought down the growing uneasiness, determined not to provoke Giskard. He did not wish by some motion or outcry–or even expression–to activate the inconvenience of Giskard’s desire to save him. He did not want to have himself lifted up and carried off to shelter.

  Fastolfe showed no sign of understanding Baley’s difficulty. He said, “There’s no question but that advances in mentology have been carried through. There remain enormous problems and perhaps these will always remain, but there has been progress. Still–”

  “Still?”

  “Still, Aurora is not satisfied with a purely theoretical study of the human brain. Uses for humaniform robots have been advanced that I do not approve of.”

  “Such as the use on Earth.”

  “No, that was a brief experiment that I rather approved of and was even fascinated by. Could Daneel fool Earthpeople? It turned out he could, though, of course, the eyes of Earthmen for robots are not very keen. Daneel cannot fool the eyes of Aurorans, though I dare say future humaniform robots could be improved to the point where they would. There are other tasks that have been proposed, however.”

  “Such as?”

  Fastolfe gazed thoughtfully into the distance. “I told you this world was tame. When I began my movement to encourage a renewed period of exploration and settlement, it was not to the supercomfortable Aurorans–or Spacers generally–that I looked for leadership. I rather thought we ought to encourage Earthmen to take the lead. With their horrid world–excuse me–and short life-span, they have so little to lose, I thought that they would surely welcome the chance, especially if we were to help them technologically. I spoke to you about such a thing when I saw you on Earth three years ago. Do you remember?” He looked sidelong at Baley.

  Baley said stolidly, “I remember quite well. In fact, you started a chain of thought in me that has resulted in a small movement on Earth in that very direction.”

  “Indeed? It would not be easy, I imagine. There is the claustrophilia of you Earthmen, your dislike of leaving your walls.”

  “We are fighting it, Dr. Fastolfe. Our organization is planning to move out into space. My son is a leader’ in the movement and I hope the day may come when he leaves Earth at the head of an expedition to settle a new world. If we do indeed receive the technological help you speak of–” Baley let that dangle.

  “If we supplied the ships, you mean?”

  “And other equipment. Yes, Dr. Fastolfe.”

  “There are difficulties. Many Aurorans do not want Earthmen to move outward and settle new worlds. They fear the rapid spread of Earthish culture, its beehive Cities, its chaoticism.” He stirred uneasily and said, “Why are we standing here, I wonder? Let’s move on.”

  He walked slowly forward and said, “I have argued that that would not be the way it would be. I have pointed out that the settlers from Earth would not be Earthmen in the classical mode. They would not be enclosed in Cities. Coming to a new world, they would be like the Auroran Fathers coming here. They would develop a manageable ecological balance and would be closer to Aurorans than to Earthmen in attitude.”

  “Would they not then develop all the weaknesses you find in Spacer culture, Dr. Fastolfe?”

  “Perhaps not. They would learn from our mistakes.–But that is academic, for something has developed which makes the argument moot.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Why, the humaniform robot. You see, there are those who see the humaniform robot as the perfect settler. It is they who can build the new worlds.”

  Baley said, “You’ve always had robots. Do you mean this idea was never advanced before?”

  “Oh, it was, but it was always clearly unworkable. Ordinary nonhumaniform robots, without immediate human supervision, building a world that would suit their own nonhumaniform selves, could not be expected to tame and build a world that would be suitable for the more delicate and flexible minds and bodies of human beings.”

  “Surely the world they would build would serve as a reasonable first approximation.”

  “Surely it would, Mr. Baley. It is a sign of Auroran decay, however, that there is an overwhelming feeling among our people that a reasonable first approximation is unreasonably insufficient.–A group of humaniform robots, on the other hand, as closely resembling human beings in body and mind as possible, would succeed in building a world which, in suiting themselves, would also inevitably suit Aurorans. Do you follow the reasoning?”

  “Completely.”

  “They would build a world so well, you see, that when they are done and Aurorans are finally willing to leave, our human beings will step out of Aurora and into another Aurora. They will never have left home; they will simply have another newer home, exactly like the older one, in which to continue their decay. Do you follow that reasoning, too?”

  “I see your point, but I take it that Aurorans do not.”

  “May not. I think I can argue the point effectively, if the opposition does not destroy me politically via this matter of the destruction of Jander. Do you see the motive attributed to me? I am supposed to have embarked on a program of the destruction of humaniform robots rather than allow them to be used to settle other planets. Or so my enemies say.”

  It was Baley now who stopped walking. He looked thoughtfully at Fastolfe and said, “You understand, Dr. Fastolfe, that it is to Earth’s interest that your point of view win out completely.”

  “And to your own interests as well, Mr. Baley.”

  “And to mine. But if I put myself to one side for the moment, it still remains vital to my world that our people be allowed, encouraged, and helped to explore the Galaxy; that we retain as much of our own ways as we are comfortable with; that we not be condemned to imprisonment on Earth forever, since there we can only perish.”

  Fastolfe said, “Some of you, I think, will insist on remaining imprisoned.”

  “Of course. Perhaps almost all of us will. However, at least some of us–as many of us as possible–will escape if given permission.–It is therefore my duty, not only as a representative of the law of a large fraction of humanity but as an Earthman, plain and simple, to help you clear your name, whether you are guilty or innocent. Nevertheless, I can throw myself wholeheartedly into this task only if I know that, “in fact, the accusations against you are unjustified.”

  “Of course! I understand.”

  “In the light, then, of what you have told me of the motive attributed to you, assure me once again that you did not do this thing.”

  Fastolfe said, “Mr. Baley, I understand completely that you have no choice in this matter. I am quite aware that I can tell you, with impunity, that I am guilty and that you would still be compelled by the nature of your needs and those of your world to work with me to mask that fact. Indeed, if I were actually guilty, I would feel compelled to tell you so, so that you could take that fact into consideration and, knowing the truth, work the more efficiently to rescue me–and yourself. But I cannot do so, because the fact is I am innocent. However much appearances may be against me, I did not destroy Jander. Such a thing never entered my mind.”

  “Nev
er?”

  Fastolfe smiled sadly. “Oh, I may have thought once or twice that Aurora would have been better off if I had never worked out the ingenious notions that led to the development of the humaniform positronic brain–or that it would be better off if such brains proved unstable and readily subject to mental freeze-out. But those were fugitive thoughts. Not for a split second did I contemplate bringing about Jander’s destruction for this reason.”

  “Then we must destroy this motive that they attribute to you.”

  “Good. But how?”

  “We could show that it serves no purpose. What good does it do to destroy Jander? More humaniform robots can be built. Thousands. Millions.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not so, Mr. Baley. None can be built. I alone know how to design them, and, as long as robot colonization is a possible destiny, I refuse to build any more. Jander is gone and only Daneel is left.”

  “The secret will be discovered by others.”

  Fastolfe’s chin went up. “I would like to see the roboticist capable of it. My enemies have established a Robotics Institute with no other purpose than to work out the methods behind the construction of a humaniform robot, but they won’t succeed. They certainly haven’t succeeded so far and I know they won’t succeed.”

  Baley frowned. “If you are the only man who knows the secret of the humaniform robots, and if your enemies are desperate for it, will they not try to get it out of you?”

  “Of course. By threatening my political existence, by perhaps maneuvering some punishment that will forbid my working in the field and thus putting an end to my professional existence as well, they hope to have me agree to share the secret with them. They may even have the Legislature direct me to share the secret on the pain of confiscation of property, imprisonment–who knows what? However, I have made up my mind to submit to anything–anything–rather than give in. But I don’t want to have to, you understand.”

  “Do they know of your determination to resist?”

  “I hope so. I have told them plainly enough. I presume they think I’m bluffing, that I’m not serious.–But I am.”

  “But if they believe you, they might take more serious steps.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Steal your papers. Kidnap you. Torture you.”

  Fastolfe broke into a loud laugh and Baley flushed. He said, “I hate to sound like a hyperwave drama, but have you considered that?”

  Fastolfe said, “Mr. Baley–First, my robots can protect me. It would take full-scale war to capture me or my work. Second, even if somehow they succeeded, not one of the roboticists opposed to me could bear to make it plain that the only way he could obtain the secret of the humaniform positronic brain is to steal it or force it from me. His or her professional reputation would be completely wiped out. Third, such things on Aurora are unheard of. The merest hint of an unprofessional attempt upon me would swing the Legislature–and public opinion–in my favor at once.”

  “Is that so?” muttered Baley, silently damning the fact of having to work in a culture whose details he simply didn’t understand.

  “Yes. Take my word for it. I wish they would try something of this melodramatic sort. I wish they were so incredibly stupid as to do so. In fact, Mr. Baley, I wish I could persuade you to go to them, worm your way into their confidence, and cajole them into mounting an attack on my establishment or waylaying me on an empty road–or anything of the sort that, I imagine, is common on Earth.”

  Baley said stiffly, “I don’t think that would be my style.”

  “I don’t think so, either, so I have no intention of trying to implement my wish. And believe me, that is too bad, for if we cannot persuade them to try the suicidal method of force, they will continue to do something much better, from their standpoint. They will destroy me by falsehoods.”

  “What falsehoods?”

  “It is not just the destruction of one robot they attribute to me. That is bad enough and just might suffice. They are whispering–it is only a whisper as yet–that the death is merely an experiment of mine and a dangerous, successful one. They whisper that I am working out a system for destroying humaniform brains rapidly and efficiently, so that when my enemies do create their own humaniform robots, I, together with members of my party, will be able to destroy them all, thus preventing Aurora from settling new worlds and leaving the Galaxy to my Earthmen confederates.”

  “Surely there can be no truth in this.”

  “Of course not. I told you these are lies. And ridiculous lies, too. No such method of destruction is even theoretically possible and the Robotics Institute people are not on the point of creating their own humaniform robots. I cannot conceivably indulge in an orgy of mass destruction even if I wanted to. I cannot.”

  “Doesn’t the whole thing fall by its own weight, then?”

  ‘Unfortunately, it’s not likely to do so in time. It may be silly nonsense, but it will probably last long enough to sway public opinion against me to the point of swinging just enough votes in the Legislature to defeat me. Eventually, it will all be recognized as nonsense, but by then it will be too late. And please notice that Earth is being used as a whipping boy in this. The charge that I am laboring on behalf of Earth is a powerful one and many will choose to believe the whole farrago, against their own better sense, because of their dislike of Earth and Earth-people.”

  Baley said, “What you’re telling me is that active resentment against Earth is being built up.”

  Fastolfe said, “Exactly, Mr. Baley. The situation grows worse for me–and for Earth–every day and we have very little time.”

  “But isn’t there an easy way of knocking this thing on its head?” (Baley, in despair, decided it was time to fall back on Daneel’s point.) “If you were indeed anxious to test a method for the destruction of a humaniform robot, why seek out one in another establishment, one with which it might be inconvenient to experiment? You had Daneel, himself, in your own establishment. He was at hand and convenient. Would not the experiment have been conducted upon him if there were any truth at all in the rumor?”

  “No no,” said Fastolfe. “I couldn’t get anyone to believe that. Daneel was my first success, my triumph. I wouldn’t destroy him under any circumstances. Naturally, I would turn to Jander. Everyone would see that and I would be a fool to try to persuade them that it would have made more sense for me to sacrifice Daneel.”

  They were walking again, nearly at their destination. Baley was in deep silence, his face tight-lipped.

  Fastolfe said, “How do you feel, Mr. Baley?”

  Baley said in a low voice, “If you mean as far as being Outside is concerned, I am not even aware of it. If you mean as far as our dilemma is concerned, I think I am as close to giving up as I can possibly be without putting myself into an ultrasonic brain-dissolving chamber.” Then passionately, “Why did you send for me, Dr. Fastolfe? Why have you given me this job? What have I ever done to you to be treated so?”

  “Actually,” said Fastolfe, “it was not my idea to begin with and I can only plead my desperation.”

  “Well, whose idea was it?”

  “It was the owner of this establishment we have now reached who suggested it originally–and I had no better idea.”

  “The owner of this establishment? Why would he–”

  “She.”

  “Well, then, why would she suggest anything of the sort?”

  “Oh! I haven’t explained that she knows you, have I, Mr. Baley? There she is, waiting for us now.”

  Baley looked up, bewildered.

  “Jehoshaphat,” he whispered.

  6: Gladia

  23.

  THE YOUNG WOMAN who faced them said with a wan smile, “I knew that when I met you again, Elijah, that would be the first word I would hear.”

  Baley stared at her. She had changed. Her hair was shorter and her face was even more troubled now than it had been two years ago and seemed more than two years older, somehow. She was still unmis
takably Gladia, however. There was still the triangular face, with its pronounced cheekbones and small chin. She was still short, still slight of figure, still vaguely childlike.

  He had dreamed of her frequently–though not in an overtly erotic fashion–after returning to Earth. His dreams were always stories of not being able to quite reach her. She was always there, a little too far off to speak to easily. She never quite heard when he called her. She never grew nearer when he approached her.

  It was not hard to understand why the dreams had been as they were. She was a Solarian-born person and, as such, was rarely supposed to be in the physical presence of other human beings.

  Elijah had been forbidden to her because he was human–and beyond that (of course) because he was from Earth. Though the exigencies of the murder case he was investigating forced them to meet, throughout their relationship she was completely covered, when physically together, to prevent actual contact. And yet, at their last meeting, she had, in defiance of good sense, fleetingly touched his cheek with her bare hand. She must have known she could be infected as a result. He cherished the touch the more, for every aspect of her upbringing combined to make it unthinkable.

  The dreams had faded in time.

  Baley said, rather stupidly, “It was you who owned the–”

  He paused and Gladia finished the sentence for him. “The robot. And two years ago, it was I who possessed the husband. Whatever I touch is destroyed.”

  Without really knowing what he was doing, Baley reached up to place his hand on his cheek. Gladia did not seem to notice.

  She said, “You came to rescue me that first time. Forgive me, but I had to call on you again.–Come in, Elijah. Come in, Dr. Fastolfe.”

  Fastolfe stepped back to allow Baley to walk in first. He followed. Behind Fastolfe came Daneel and Giskard–and they, with the characteristic self-effacement of robots, stepped to unoccupied wall niches on opposite sides and remained silently standing, backs to the wall.

  For one moment, it seemed that Gladia would treat them with the indifference with which human beings commonly treated robots. After a glance at Daneel, however, she turned away and said to Fastolfe in a voice that choked a little, “That one. Please. Ask him to leave.”