by Isaac Asimov
Vasilia nodded wearily at this. "It sounds good, Kelden, but do you know what I suspect will happen?"
"What, Vasilia?"
"It is my opinion that the Settler ship will rise from the surface of Solaria, but that our warships won't. Whatever is on Solaria can be countered by Giskard, but, I fear, by nothing else."
"If that happens," said Amadiro with a grim smile, "then I'll admit there may be something, after all, to your fantasy. —But it won't happen."
56.
The next morning Vasilia's chief personal robot, delicately designed to appear female, came to Vasilia's bedside. Vasilia stirred and, without opening her eyes, said, "What is it, Nadila?" (There was no need to open her eyes. In many decades, no one had ever approached her bedside but Nadila.)
Nadila said softly, "Madam, you are desired at the Institute by Dr. Amadiro."
Vasilia's eyes flew open. "What time is it?"
"It is 0517, madam."
"Before sunrise?" Vasilia was indignant.
"Yes, madam."
"When does he want me?"
"Now, madam."
"Why?"
"His robots have not informed us, madam, but they say it is important."
Vasilia threw aside the bed sheets. "I will have breakfast first, Nadila, and a shower before that. Inform Amadiro's robots to take visitors' niches and wait. If they urge speed, remind them they are in my establishment."
Vasilia, annoyed, did not hasten unduly. If anything, her toilette was more painstaking than usual and her breakfast more leisurely. (She was not ordinarily one to spend much time over either.) The news, which she watched, gave no indication of anything that might explain Amadiro's call.
By the time the ground-car (containing herself and four robots—two of Amadiro's and two of her own) had brought her to the Institute, the sun was making its appearance over the horizon.
Amadiro looked up and said, "You are finally here, then." The walls of his office were still glowing, though their light was no longer needed.
"I'm sorry," said Vasilia stiffly. "I quite realize that sunrise is a terribly late hour at which to begin work."
"No games, Vasilia, please. Very soon I will have to be at the Council chamber. The Chairman has been up longer than I have. —Vasilia, I apologize, quite humbly, for doubting you."
"The Settler ship has lifted off safely, then."
"Yes. And one of our ships has been destroyed, as you predicted. —The fact has not been publicized yet, but the news will leak out eventually, of course."
Vasilia's eyes widened. She had predicted this outcome with a bit more in the way of outward confidence than she had felt, but clearly this was not the time to say so. What she did say was "Then you accept the fact that Giskard has extraordinary powers."
Cautiously, Amadiro said, "I don't consider the matter to be mathematically proven, but I'm willing to accept it pending further information. What I want to know is what we ought to do next. The Council knows nothing of Giskard and I do not propose to tell them."
"I'm glad your thinking is clear to that extend, Kelden."
"But you're the one who understands Giskard and you can best tell what ought to be done. What do I tell the Council, then, and how do I explain the action without giving away the whole truth?"
"It depends. Now that the Settler ship has left Solaria, where is it going? Can we tell? After all, if it is returning now to Aurora, we need do nothing but prepare for its arrival."
"It is not coming to Aurora," said Amadiro emphatically. "You were right here, too, it seems. Giskard—assuming he is running the show—seems determined to stay away. We have intercepted the ship's messages to its own world. Encoded, of course, but there isn't a Settler code we haven't broken—"
"I suspect they've broken ours, too. I wonder why everyone won't agree to send messages in the clear and save a lot of trouble."
Amadiro shrugged it away. "Never mind that. The point is that the Settler ship is going back to its own planet."
"With the Solarian woman and the robots?"
"Of course."
"You're sure of that? They haven't been left on Solaria?"
"We're sure of that," said Amadiro impatiently. "Apparently, the Solarian woman was responsible for their getting off the surface."
"She? In what way?"
"We don't yet know."
Vasilia said, "It had to be Giskard. He made it appear to be the Solarian woman."
"And what do we do now?"
"We must get Giskard back."
"Yes, but I can't very well persuade the Council to risk an interstellar crisis over the return of a robot."
"You don't, Kelden. You ask for the return of the Solarian woman, something we certainly have a right to request. And do you think for one moment she would return without her robots? Or that Giskard will allow the Solarian woman to return without him? Or that the Settler world would want to keep the robots if the Solarian woman returns? Ask for her. Firmly. She's an Auroran citizen, lent out for a job on Solaria, which is done, and she must now be returned forthwith. Make it belligerent, as though it were a threat of war."
"We can't risk war, Vasilia."
"You won't risk it. Giskard can't take an action that might lead directly to war. If the Settler leaders resist and become belligerent in their return, Giskard will perforce make the necessary modifications in the attitude of the Settler leaders so as to have the Solarian woman returned peaceably to Aurora. And he himself will, of course, have to return with her."
Amadiro said drearily, "And once he's back, he will alter us, I suppose, and we will forget his powers, and disregard him, and he will still be able to follow his own plan whatever it is.
Vasilia leaned her head back and laughed. "Not a chance. I know Giskard, you see, and I can handle him. Just bring him back and persuade the Council to disregard Fastolfe's will—it can be done and you can do it—and to assign Giskard to me. He will then be working for us; Aurora will rule the Galaxy; you will spend the remaining decades of your life as Chairman of the Council; and I will succeed you as the head of the Robotics Institute."
"Are you sure it will work out that way?"
"Absolutely. Just send the message and make it strong and I will guarantee all the rest—victory for the Spacers and ourselves, defeat for Earth and the Settlers."
14. THE DUEL
57.
Gladia watched Aurora's globe on the screen. Its cloud cover seemed caught in mid-swirl along the thick crescent that was shining in the light of its sun.
"Surely we're not that close," she said.
D.G. smiled. "By no means. We're seeing it through a rather good lens. It's still several days away, counting the spiral approach. If we ever get an antigravitic drive, which the physicists keep dreaming about but seem helpless to bring about, spaceflight will become really simple and fast. As it is, our Jumps can only deliver us safely to a rather goodish distance from a planetary mass."
"It's odd," said Gladia thoughtfully.
"What is, madam?"
"When we went to Solaria, I thought to myself. 'I'm going home,' but when I landed I found that I wasn't home at all. Now we're going to Aurora and I thought to myself, 'Now I'm going home,' and yet—that world down there isn't home, either."
"Where is home, then, madam?"
"I'm beginning to wonder. —But why do you persist in calling me 'madam'?"
D.G. looked surprised. "Do you prefer 'Lady Gladia,' Lady Gladia?"
"That's also mock respect. Do you feel that way about me?"
"Mock respect? Certainly not. But how else does a Settler address a Spacer? I'm trying to be polite and to conform to your customs—to do what makes you feel comfortable."
"But it doesn't make me feel comfortable. Just call me Gladia. I've suggested it before. After all, I call you 'D.G.' "
"And that suits me fine, although in front of my officers and men, I would prefer to have you address me as 'Captain,' and I will call you 'madam.' Discipline must be
maintained."
"Yes, of course," said Gladia absently, staring at Aurora again. "I have no home."
She whirled toward D.G., "Is it possible that you might take me to Earth, D.G.?"
"Possible," said D.G., smiling. "You might not want to go—Gladia."
"I think I want to go," said Gladia, "unless I lose my courage."
"Infection does exist," said D.G., "and that's what Spacers fear, isn't it?"
"Too much, perhaps. After all, I knew your Ancestor and wasn't infected. I have been on this ship and have survived. Look, you're near me right now. I was even on your world, with thousands crowding near me. I think I've worked up a certain amount of resistance."
"I must tell you, Gladia, that Earth is a thousand times as crowded as Baleyworld."
"Even so," said Gladia, her voice warming, "I've changed my mind completely—about many things. I've told you there was nothing left to live for after twenty-three decades and it turns out there is. What happened to me on Baleyworld—that talk I gave, the way it moved people—was something new, something I'd never imagined. It was like being born all over, starting again at the first decade. It seems to me now that, even if Earth kills me, it would be worth it, for I would die young and trying and fighting death, not old and weary and welcoming it."
"Well!" said D.G., lifting his arms in a mock-heroic gesture, "you sound like a hyperwave historical. Have you ever watched them on Aurora?"
"Of course. They're very popular."
"Are you rehearsing for one, Gladia, or do you really mean what you say?"
Gladia laughed. "I suppose I do sound rather silly, D.G. but the funny thing is that I do mean it—if I don't lose my courage."
"In that case, we'll do it. We'll go to Earth. I don't think they'll consider you worth a war, especially if you report fully on events on Solaria, as they want you to, and if you give your word of honor as a Spacer woman—if you do things like that—to return."
"But I won't."
"But you may want to someday. —And now, my lady, I mean, Gladia—it is always a pleasure to speak with you, but I'm always tempted to spend too much time at it and I am certain I am needed in the control room. If I'm not and they can do without me, then I'd rather they didn't find out."
58.
"Was that your doing, friend Giskard?"
"To what is it that you refer, friend Daneel?"
"Lady Gladia is anxious to go to Earth and even perhaps not to return. That is a desire so antithetical to what a Spacer such as she would want that I cannot help but suspect that you did something to her mind to make her feel so."
Giskard said, "I did not touch her. It is difficult enough to tamper with any human being within the cage of the Three Laws. To tamper with the mind of the particular individual for whose safety one is directly responsible is more difficult still."
"Then why does she wish to go to Earth?"
"Her experiences on Baleyworld have changed her point of view considerably. She has a mission—that of ensuring peace in the Galaxy—and burns to work at it."
"In that case, friend Giskard, would it not be better to do what you can to persuade the captain, in your own fashion, to go to Earth directly?"
"That would create difficulties. The Auroran authorities are so insistent on Lady Gladia being returned to Aurora that it would be better to do so, at least temporarily."
"Yet it could be dangerous to do so," said Daneel.
"Then you still think, friend Daneel, that it is I whom they want to retain because they have learned of my abilities?"
"I see no other reason for their insistence on Lady Gladia's return."
Giskard said, "Thinking like a man has its pitfalls, I see. It becomes possible to suppose difficulties that cannot exist. Even if someone on Aurora were to suspect the existence of my abilities, it is with those abilities that I would remove the suspicion. There is nothing to fear, friend Daneel."
And Daneel said reluctantly, "As you say, friend Giskard."
59.
Gladia looked about thoughtfully, sending off the robots with a careless motion of her hand.
She looked at her hand, as she did so, almost as though she were seeing it for the first time. It had been the hand with which she had shaken the hand of each of the crewmen of the ship before getting into the small tender that took her and D.G. down to Aurora. When she promised to return, they had cheered her and Niss had bawled out, "We won't leave without you, my lady."
The cheering had pleased her enormously. Her robots served her endlessly, loyally, patiently, but they never cheered her.
D.G., watching her curiously, said, "Surely you are at home now, Gladia."
"I am in my establishment," she said in a low voice. "It has been my establishment since Dr. Fastolfe assigned it to me twenty decades ago and yet it feels strange to me."
"It is strange to me," said D.G. "I'd feel rather lost staying here alone." He looked, about with a half-smile at the ornate furnishings and the elaborately decorated walls.
"You won't be alone, D.G.," said Gladia. "My household robots will be with you and they have full instructions. They will devote themselves to your comfort."
"Will they understand my Settler accent?"
"If they fail to understand, they will ask you to repeat and you must then speak slowly and make gestures. They will prepare food for you, show you how to use the facilities in the guest rooms—and they will also keep a sharp eye on you to make sure that you do not act in an unguestly manner. They will stop you—if necessary—but they will do so without hurting you."
"I trust they won't consider me nonhuman."
"As the overseer did? No, I guarantee you that, D.G., though your beard and accent may confuse them to the point where they will be a second or two slow in reacting."
"And I suppose they'll protect me against intruders?"
"They will, but there won't be any intruders."
"The Council may want to come and get me."
"Then they will send robots and mine will turn them away."
"What if their robots overpower your robots?"
"That can't happen, D.G. An establishment is inviolate."
"Come on, Gladia. Do you mean that nobody has ever—"
"Nobody has ever!" she replied at once. "You just stay here comfortably and my robots will take care of all your needs. If you want to get in touch with your ship, with Baleyworld, even with the Auroran Council, they will know exactly what to do. You won't have to lift a finger."
D.G. sank down into the nearest chair, spread himself out over it, and sighed deeply. "How wise we are to allow no robots on the Settler worlds. Do you know how long it would take to corrupt me into idleness and sloth if I stayed in this kind of society? Five minutes at most. In fact, I'm corrupted already." He yawned and stretched luxuriously. "Would they mind if I sleep?"
"Of course they wouldn't. If you do, the robots will see to it that your surroundings are kept quiet and dark."
Then D.G. straightened suddenly. "What if you don't come back?"
"Why shouldn't I come back?"
"The Council seems to want you rather urgently."
"They can't hold me. I'm a free Auroran citizen and I go where I please."
"There are always emergencies when a government wishes to manufacture one—and in an emergency, rules can always be broken."
"Nonsense. Giskard, am I going to be kept there?"
Giskard said, "Madam Gladia, you will not be kept there. The captain need not be concerned with respect to that."
"There you are, D.G. And your Ancestor, the last time he saw me, told me I was always to trust Giskard."
"Good! Excellent! Just the same, the reason I came down with you, Gladia, was to make sure I get you back. Remember that and tell it to your Dr. Amadiro if you have to. If they try to keep you against your will, they will have to try to keep me as well—and my ship, which is in orbit, is fully capable of reacting to that."
"No, please," said Gladia, disturbed. "D
on't think of doing that. Aurora has ships as well and I'm sure yours is under observation."
"There's a difference, though, Gladia. I doubt very much that Aurora would want to go to war over you. Baleyworld, on the other hand, would be quite prepared to."
"Surely not. I wouldn't want them to go to war on my account. And why should they, anyway? Because I was a friend of your Ancestor?"
"Not exactly. I don't think anyone can quite believe that you were that friend. Maybe your, great-grandmother, not you. Even I don't believe it was you."
"You know it was I."
"Intellectually, yes. Emotionally, I find it impossible. That was twenty decades ago."
Gladia shook her head. "You have the short-lived view."
"Maybe we all do, but it doesn't matter. What makes you important to Baleyworld is the speech you gave. You're a heroine and they will decide you must be presented at Earth. Nothing will be allowed to prevent that."
Gladia said, a trifle alarmed, "Presented at Earth? With full ceremony?"
"The fullest."
"Why should that be thought so important as to be worth a war?"
"I'm not sure I can explain that to a Spacer. Earth is a special world. Earth is a—holy world. It's the only real world. It's where human beings came into being and it's the only world in which they evolved and developed and lived against a full background of life. We have trees on Baleyworld and insects—but on Earth they have a wild riot of trees and insects that none of us ever see except on Earth. Our worlds are imitations, pale imitations. They don't exist and can't exist except for the intellectual, cultural, and spiritual strength they draw from Earth."
Gladia said, "This is quite opposed to the opinion of Earth held by Spacers. When we refer to Earth, which we seldom do, it is as a world that is barbarous and in decay."
D.G. flushed. "That is why the Spacerworlds have been growing steadily weaker. As I said before, you are like plants that have pulled themselves loose from their roots, like animals that have cut out their hearts."
Gladia said, "Well, I look forward to seeing Earth for myself, but I will have to go now. Please treat this as your own establishment till I return." She walked briskly toward the door, stopped, then turned. "There are no alcoholic drinks in this establishment or anywhere on Aurora, no tobacco, no alkaloidal stimulants, nothing of any artificial kinds of—of whatever you may be used to."
