by Isaac Asimov
“For whom do you speak, by the way? It is Amadiro who must now bring himself to be polite to Settlers?”
“No. It is the Council, actually.”
“Are you the spokesman for the Council?”
“Not officially, but I have been asked to inform you of this – unofficially.”
“And if I see this Settler, what then? What does he want to see me about?”
“That is what we don’t know, madam. We count on you to tell us. You are to see him, find out what he wants, and report to us.”
“Who is ‘us’?”
“As I said, the Council. The Settler will be here at your establishment this evening.”
“You seem to assume that I have no choice but to take on this position as informer.”
Mandamus rose to his feet, clearly done with his mission. “You will not be an ‘informer.’ You owe nothing to this Settler. You are merely reporting to your government, as a loyal Auroran citizen should be willing – even eager – to do. You would not want the Council to suppose that your Solarian birth in any way dilutes your Auroran patriotism.”
“Sir, I have been an Auroran over four times as long as you’ve been alive.”
“Undoubtedly, but you were born and raised on Solaria. You are that unusual anomaly, a foreign-born Auroran, and it is difficult to forget it. This is especially true since the Settler wishes to see you, rather than anyone else on Aurora, precisely because you are Solarian-born.”
“How do you know that?”
“It is a fair presumption. He identifies you as ‘the Solarian woman.’ We are curious as to why that should mean anything to him – now that Solaria no longer exists.”
“Ask him.”
“We prefer to ask you – after you ask him. I must ask permission to leave now and I thank you for your hospitality.”
Gladia nodded stiffly. “I grant you your permission to leave with better will than I granted you my hospitality.”
Mandamus stepped toward the hallway that led to the main entrance, followed closely by his robots.
He paused just before leaving the room, turned, and said, “I had almost forgotten –”
“Yes?”
“The Settler who wishes to see you has a surname that, by a peculiar coincidence, is Baley.”
3. The Crisis
7.
DANEEL AND GISKARD, with robotic courtesy, saw Mandamus and his robots off the grounds of the establishment. Then, since they were outside, they toured the grounds, made certain that the lesser robots were in their places, and took note of the weather (cloudy and a bit cooler than seasonal).
Daneel said, “Dr. Mandamus admitted openly that the Settler worlds are now stronger than the Spacer worlds. I would not have expected him to do that.”
Giskard said, “Nor I. I was certain that the Settlers would increase in strength as compared with the Spacers because Elijah Baley had predicted it many decades ago, but I could see no way of determining when the fact would become obvious to the Auroran Council. It seemed to me that social inertia would keep the Council firmly convinced of Spacer superiority long after that had vanished, but I could not calculate for how long they would continue to delude themselves.”
“I am astonished that Partner Elijah foresaw this so long ago.”
“Human beings have ways of thinking about human beings that we have not. “Had Giskard been human, the remark might have been made with regret or envy, but since he was a robot it was merely factual.
He went on. “I have tried to gain the knowledge, if not the way of thinking, by reading human history in great detail. Surely somewhere in the long tale of human events, there must be buried the Laws of Humanics that are equivalent to our Three Laws of Robotics.”
Daneel said, “Madam Gladia once told me that this hope was an impossible one.”
“So that may be, friend Daneel, for though it seems to me such Laws of Humanics must exist, I cannot find them. Every generalization I try to make, however broad and simple’ has its numerous exceptions. Yet if such Laws existed and if I could find them, I could understand human beings better and be more confident that I am obeying the Three Laws in better fashion.”
“Since Partner Elijah understood human beings, he must have had some knowledge of the Laws of Humanics.”
“Presumably. But this he knew through something that human beings call intuition, a word I don’t understand, signifying a concept I know nothing of. Presumably it lies beyond reason and I have only reason at my command.”
7A.
That and memory!
Memory that did not work after the human fashion, of course. It lacked the imperfect recall, the fuzziness, the additions and subtractions dictated by wishful thinking and self-interest, to say nothing of the lingerings and lacunae and backtracking that can turn memory into hours-long daydreaming.
It was robotic memory ticking off the events exactly as they had happened, but in vastly hastened fashion. The seconds reeled off in nanoseconds, so that days of events could be relived with such rapid precision as to introduce no perceptible gap in a conversation.
As Giskard had done innumerable times before, he relived that visit to Earth, always seeking for understanding of Elijah Baley’s casual ability to forsee the future, always failing to find it.
Earth!
Fastolfe had come to Earth in an Auroran warship, with a full complement of fellow passengers, both human and robot. Once in orbit, however, it was only Fastolfe who took the module in for a landing. Injections had stimulated his immune mechanism and he wore the necessary gloves, coveralls, contact lenses, and nose plugs. He felt quite safe as a result, but no other Auroran was willing to go along as part of a delegation.
This Fastolfe shrugged off, since it seemed to him (as he later explained to Giskard) that he would be more welcome if he came alone. A delegation would disagreeably remind Earth of the bad old days (to them) of Spacetown, when Spacers had a permanent base on Earth and directly dominated the world.
With him, Fastolfe brought Giskard, however. To have arrived without any robots would have been unthinkable, even for Fastolfe. To have arrived with more than one would have put a strain on the increasingly antirobot Earthmen he hoped to see and with whom he intended to negotiate.
To begin with, of course, he would meet with Baley, who would be his liaison with Earth and its people. That was the rational excuse for the meeting. The real excuse was simply that Fastolfe wanted very much to see Baley again; he certainly owed him enough.
(That Giskard wanted to see Baley and that he very slightly tightened the emotion and impulse in Fastolfe’s brain to bring that about, Fastolfe had no way of knowing – or even imagining.)
Baley was waiting for them at the time of landing and with him was a small group of Earth officials, so that there was a tedious passage of time during which politeness and protocol had its innings. It was some hours before Baley and Fastolfe could get away by themselves and it might not have happened that soon but for Giskard’s quiet and unfelt interference – with just a touch at the minds of the more important of those officials who were distinctly bored. (It was always safe to confine one’s self to accentuating an emotion that already existed. It could almost never bring harm.)
Baley and Fastolfe sat in the smallness of a private dining room that was ordinarily available only to high government officials. Food items could be punched out on a computerized menu and were then brought in by computerized carriers.
Fastolfe smiled. “Very advanced,” he said, “but these carriers are merely specialized robots. I’m surprised Earth uses them. They are not of Spacer manufacture, surely.”
“No, they’re not,” said Baley solemnly. “Home-grown, so to speak. This is only for use at the top and it’s my first chance, ever, to experience it. I’m not likely to do so again.”
“You may be elected to high office someday and then experience this sort of thing daily.”
“Never,” said Baley. The dishes were put before each
of them and the carrier was even sophisticated enough to ignore Giskard, who stood impassively behind Fastolfe’s chair.
For a while, Baley ate silently and then, with a certain shyness, he said, “It is good to see you again, Dr. Fastolfe.”
“The pleasure is as much mine. I haven’t forgotten that two years ago, when you were on Aurora, you managed to free me of the suspicion of the destruction of the robot Jander and to turn the tables neatly on my overconfident opponent, the good Amadiro.”
“I still shake when I think of it,” said Baley. “And greetings to you, too, Giskard. I trust you haven’t forgotten me.”
“That would be quite impossible, sir,” said Giskard.
“Good! Well, Doctor, I trust the political situation on Aurora continues to be favorable. The news here would make it seem so, but I don’t trust Earth analysis of Auroran affairs.”
“You may – at the moment. My party is in firm control of the Council. Amadiro maintains a sullen opposition, but I suspect it will be years before his people recover from the blow you gave them. But how are things with you and with Earth?”
“Well enough. – Tell me, Dr. Fastolfe” – Baley’s face twitched slightly, as though with embarrassment –” have you brought Daneel with you?”
Fastolfe said slowly, “I’m sorry, Baley. I did, but I left him back on the ship. I felt it might not be politic to be accompanied by a robot who looked so much like a human being. With Earth as antirobot as it has become, I felt a humanoid robot might seem a deliberate provocation to them.”
Baley sighed. “I understand.”
Fastolfe said, “Is it true that your government is planning to prohibit the use of robots within the Cities?”
“I suspect it will soon come to that, with a period of grace, of course, to minimize financial loss and inconvenience. Robots will be restricted to the countryside, where they are needed for agriculture and mining. There, too, they may eventually be phased out and the plan is to have no robots at all on the new worlds.”
“Since you mention the new worlds, has your son left Earth yet?”
“Yes, a few months ago. We have heard from him and he’s arrived at a new world safely, along with several hundred Settlers, as they call themselves. The world has some native vegetation upon it and a low-oxygen atmosphere. Apparently, with time it can be made quite Earthlike. Meanwhile, some makeshift domes have been put up, new Settlers are advertised for, and everyone is busily engaged in terraforming. Bentley’s letters and occasional hyperwave contact are very hopeful, but they don’t keep his mother from missing him badly.”
“And will you be going there, Baley?”
“I’m not sure that living on a strange world under a dome is my idea of happiness, Dr. Fastolfe – I haven’t Ben’s youth and enthusiasm – but I think I’ll have to in two or three years. In any case, I’ve already given notice to the Department of my intention to emigrate.”
“I imagine they must be upset over that.”
“Not at all. They say they are, but they’re glad to get rid of me. I’m too notorious.”
“And how does Earth’s government react to this drive for expansion into the Galaxy.”
“Nervously. They do not forbid it altogether, but certainly they are not cooperative. They continue to suspect that the Spacers are opposed to it and will do something unpleasant to stop it.”
“Social inertia,” said Fastolfe. “They judge us according to our behavior of years past. Surely we have made it plain that we now encourage Earth’s colonization of new planets and that we intend to colonize new planets of our own.”
“I hope you explain this to our government, then. – But, Dr. Fastolfe, another question on a smaller point. How is –” And with that, he stalled.
“Gladia?” said Fastolfe, hiding his amusement. “Have you forgotten her name?”
“No, no. I merely hesitated to – to –”
“She’s well,” said Fastolfe, “and living comfortably. She has asked me to remember her to you, but I imagine you need no nudging to recall her to mind.”
“The fact of her Solarian origin is not used against her, I hope?”
“No, nor is her role in the undoing of Dr. Amadiro. Rather the reverse. I take care of her, I assure you. – and yet I do not care to allow you to get off the subject altogether, Baley. What if Earth’s officialdom continues to be opposed to immigration and expansion? Could the process continue despite such opposition?”
“Possibly,” said Baley, “but not certainly. There’s substantial opposition among Earthmen generally. It’s hard to break away from the huge underground Cities that are our homes –”
“Your wombs.”
“Or our wombs, if you prefer. Going to new worlds and having to live with the most primitive facilities for decades; never seeing comfort in one’s own lifetime – that is difficult. When I think of it sometimes, I just decide not to go – especially if I’m passing a sleepless night. I’ve decided not to go a hundred times and one day I may just stick to that decision. And if I have trouble when, in a way, I originated the entire notion, then who else is likely to go freely and gladly? Without government encouragement – or, to be brutally frank – without the government shoe applied to the seat of the pants of the population, the whole project may fail.”
Fastolfe nodded. “I will try to persuade your government. But if I fail?”
Baley said in a low voice, “If you fail – and if, therefore, our people fail – there remains only one alternative. The Spacers themselves must settle the Galaxy. The job must be done.”
“And you will be content to see the Spacers expand and fill the Galaxy, while the Earthpeople remain on their single planet?”
“Not content at all, but it would be better than the present situation of no expansion by either. Many centuries ago, Earthpeople flocked to the stars, established some of the worlds that are now called Spacer worlds, and those first few colonized others. It has been a long time, however, since either the Spacers or Earthpeople have successfully settled and developed a new world. That must not be permitted to continue.”
“I agree. But what is your reason for wanting expansion, Baley?”
“I feel that without expansion of some sort, humanity cannot advance. It doesn’t have to be geographical expansion, but that is the clearest way of inducing other kinds of expansion as well. If geographical expansion can be undertaken in a fashion that is not at the expense of other intelligent beings; if there are empty spaces into which to expand; then why not? To resist expansion under such circumstances is to ensure decay.”
“You see those alternatives, then? Expansion and advancement? Nonexpansion and decay?”
“Yes, I believe so. Therefore, if Earth refuses expansion, then Spacers must accept it. Humanity, whether in the form of Earthpeople or Spacers, must expand. I would like to see Earthpeople undertake the task, but, failing that, Spacer expansion is better than no expansion at all. One alternative or the other.”
“And if one expands but not the other?”
“Then the expanding society will become steadily stronger and the nonexpanding one steadily weaker.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“It would be unavoidable, I think.”
Fastolfe nodded. “Actually, I agree. It is why I am trying to persuade both Earthpeople and Spacers to expand and advance. That is a third alternative, and, I think, the best.”
7B.
Memory flickered past the days that followed – incredible mobs of people moving ceaselessly past each other in streams and eddies – racing Expressways being mounted and dismounted – endless conferences with innumerable officials – minds in crowds.
Particularly minds in crowds.
Minds in crowds so thick that Giskard could not isolate individuals. Mass minds mixing and melting together into a vast pulsating grayness with all that was detectable being the periodic sparks of suspicion and dislike that shot outward every time one of the multitude paused to look at
him.
Only when Fastolfe was in conference with a few officials could Giskard deal with the individual mind and that, of course, was when it counted.
Memory slowed at one point near the end of the stay on Earth, when Giskard could finally maneuver a time alone with Baley again. Giskard adjusted a few minds minimally in order to make certain there would be no interruption for some time.
Baley said apologetically, “I haven’t really been ignoring you, Giskard. I simply haven’t had the opportunity to be alone with you. I don’t rate highly on Earth and I cannot order my comings and goings.”
“I have, of course, understood that, sir, but we will have some time together now.”
“Good. Dr. Fastolfe tells me that Gladia is doing well. He may be saying that out of kindness, knowing that that is what I want to hear. I order you to be truthful, however. Is Gladia, in fact, doing well?”
“Dr. Fastolfe has told you the truth, sir.”
“And you remember, I hope, my request when I last saw you on Aurora that you guard Gladia and protect her from harm.”
“Friend Daneel and I, sir, are both mindful of your request. I have arranged it so that when Dr. Fastolfe is no longer alive, both friend Daneel and I will become part of Madam Gladia’s establishment. We will then be in an even better position to keep her from harm.”
“That,” said Baley sadly, “will be after my time.”
“I understand that, sir, and regret it.”
“Yes, but it can’t be helped and a crisis will come – or may come – even before that and yet still be after my time.”
“What is it, sir, that you have in mind? What is this crisis?”
“Giskard, it is a crisis that may arise because Dr. Fastolfe is a surprisingly persuasive person. Or else, there is some other factor associated with him that is accomplishing the task.”
