by Robots
There was a long pause and finally Giskard said, slowly as though it were being dragged out of him, "You may be right friend Daneel. -And yet, if we are landing on Earth now, with a Zeroth Law we may be able to use, we still don't know how we might use it. It seems to us, so far, that the crisis that Earth faces involves the use of a nuclear intensifier, but as far as we know, there is nothing of significance on Earth on which a nuclear intensifier can do its work. What, then, will we do on Earth?"
"I do not as yet know," said Daneel sadly.
Noise!
Gladia listened in astonishment. It didn't hurt her ears. It wasn't the sound of surface slashing on surface. It wasn't a piercing shriek, or a clamor, or a banging, or -anything that could be expressed by an onomatopoetic word.
It was softer and less overwhelming, rising and falling, bearing within it an occasional irregularity -and always there.
D.G. watched her listening, cocking her head to this side and that, and said, "I call it the 'Drone of the City,' Gladia.
"Does it ever stop?"
"Never, really, but what can you expect? Haven't you ever stood in a field and heard the wind rustling the leaves and insects stridulating and birds calling, and water running. That never stops."
"That's different."
"No, it isn't. It's the same. The sound here is the melting together of the rumble of machinery and the various noises people make, but the principle is precisely the same as the natural nonhuman noises of a field. You're used to fields, so you don't hear the noise there. You're not used to this, so you hear it and probably find it annoying. Earthpeople don't hear it except on the rare occasions when they come fresh in from the countryside-and then they are very glad indeed to greet it. Tomorrow you won't hear it either."
Gladia looked about thoughtfully from their position on a small balcony. "So many buildings!"
"That's true enough. Structures in every direction stretching outward for miles. And up-and down, too. This is not just a city, in the fashion of Aurora or Baleyworld. It is a City -capital 'C' -of the kind that exists only on Earth."
"These are the Caves of Steel," said Gladia. "I know. We're underground, aren't we?"
"Yes. Absolutely. I must tell you that it took me time to get used to this sort of thing the first time I visited Earth. Wherever you go in a City, it looks like a crowded city scene. Walkways and roadways and storefronts and mobs of people, with the soft and universal lights of fluorescents making everything seem bathed in soft shadowless sunshine-but it isn't sunshine and, up above the surface, I don't know if the sun is really shining at the moment, or is covered by clouds, or is absent altogether, leaving this part of the world plunged, in night and darkness."
"It makes the City enclosed. People breathe each other's air."
"We do anyway-on any world- anywhere."
"Not like this." She sniffed. "It smells."
"Every world smells. Every City on Earth smells differently. You'll get used to it."
"Do I want to? Why don't people suffocate?"
"Excellent ventilation."
"What happens when it breaks down?"
"It never does."
Gladia looked about again and said. "Every building seems loaded with balconies."
"It's a sign of status. Very few people have apartments facing out and if they do have one they want the advantage of it. Most Citypeople live inside windowless apartments."
Gladia shuddered, "Horrible! What's the name of this City, D.G.?"
"It's New York. It's the chief City, but not the, largest. On this continent, Mexico City and Los Angeles are the largest and there are Cities larger than New York on other continents."
"What makes New York the chief City, then?"
"The usual reason. The Global Government is located here. The United Nations."
"Nations?" She pointed her finger triumphantly at D.G. "Earth was divided into several independent political units. Right?"
"Right. Dozens of them. But that was before hyperspatial. Travel prehyper times. The name- remains, though. That's what's wonderful about Earth. It's frozen history. Every other world is new and shallow. Only Earth is humanity in its essence.
D.G. said it in a hushed whisper and then retreated back into the room. It was not a large one and its furnishings were skimpy.
Gladia said, disappointed, "Why isn't there anyone about?"
D.G. laughed. "Don't worry, dear. If it's parades and attention you want, you'll have them. It's just that I asked them to leave us alone for a while. I want a little peace and rest and I imagine you do, too. As for my men, they have to berth the ship, clean it up, renew supplies, tend to their devotions----"
"Women?"
"No, that's not what I mean, though I suppose women will play a role later. By devotions, I mean that Earth still has its religions and these comfort the men somehow. Here on Earth, anyway. It seems to have more meaning here."
"Well," said Gladia half-contemptuously. "Frozen history, as you say. -Do you suppose we can get out of the building and walk about a bit?"
"Take my advice, Gladia, and don't jump into that sort of thing just now. You'll get plenty of it when the ceremonies begin."
"But that -will be so formal. Could we skip the ceremonies?"
"No chance at all. Since you insisted on making yourself a heroine on Baleyworld, you'll have to be one on Earth as well. Still, the ceremonies will be through eventually. When you recover from them, we will get a guide and we'll really see the City."
"Will we have any trouble taking my robots with us?" She gestured toward Daneel and Giskard at the other end of the room. "I don't mind being without them when I'm with you on the ship, but if I'm going to be with crowds of strangers I'll feel more secure having them with me."
"There'll be no problem with Daneel, certainly. He's a hero in his own right. He was the Ancestor's partner and he passes for human. Giskard, who is an obvious robot, should, in theory, not be allowed inside the city borders, but they've made an exception in his case and I hope they will continue to do so. It is too bad, in a way, that we must wait here and can't step outside."
"You say I should not be exposed to all that noise just yet," said Gladia.
"No, no. I'm not referring to the public squares and roadways. I would just like to take you out into the corridors within this particular building. There are miles and miles of them literally -and they're a small bit of City in themselves: shopping recesses, dining halls, amusement areas, Personals, elevators, transways, and so on. There's more color and variety on one floor in one building in one City on Earth than in a whole Settler town or in a whole Spacer world."
"I should think everyone would get lost."
"Of course not. Everyone knows his own neighborhood here, as anywhere else. Even strangers need only follow the signs."
"I suppose all the walking, that people are forced to do must be very good for them physically," said Gladia dubiously.
"Socially, too. There are people in the corridors at all times and the convention is that you stop to exchange words with anyone you - know and that you greet even those you don't know. Nor is walking absolutely necessary. There are elevators everywhere for vertical travel. The main corridors are transways and move for horizontal travel. Outside the building, of course, there is a feeder line to the Expressway network. That's something. You'll get to ride it."
"I've heard of them. They have strips that you walk across and that drag you along faster and faster-or slower and slower-as you move from one to another. I couldn't do that. Don't ask me to."
"Of course you'll be able to do it," said D.G. genially. "I'll help you. If necessary, I'll carry you, but all it takes is a little practice. Among the Earthpeople, kindergarten children manage and so do old people with canes. I admit Settlers tend to be clumsy about it. I'm no miracle of grace myself, but I manage and so will you."
Gladia heaved an enormous sigh. "Well, then, I'll try if I have to. But I tell you what, D.G., dear. We must have a reasonably
quiet room for the night. I want your 'Drone of the City' muted."
"That can be arranged, I'm sure."
"And I don't want to have to eat in the Section kitchens."
D.G. looked doubtful. "We can arrange to have food brought in, but really it would do you -good to participate in the social life of Earth. I'll be with you, after all."
"Maybe after a while, D.G., but not just at first-and I want a Personal for myself."
"Oh, no, that's impossible. There'll be a washbasin and a toilet bowl in any room they assign us because we have status, but if you intend to do any serious showering or bathing, you'll have to follow the crowd. There'll be a woman to introduce you to the procedure and you'll be assigned a stall or whatever it is they have there. You won't be embarrassed. Settler women have to be introduced to the use of Personals, every day of the year. -And you may end up enjoying it, Gladia. They tell me that the Women's Personal is a place of much activity and fun. In the Men's Personal, on the other hand, not a word is allowed spoken. Very dull."
"It's all horrible," muttered Gladia. "How do you stand the lack of privacy?"
"On a crowded world, needs must," said D.G. lightly. "What you've never had, you never miss. -Do you want any other aphorisms?"
"Not really," said Gladia.
She looked dejected and D.G. put an arm about her shoulder. "Come, it won't be as bad as you think. I promise you."
It was not exactly a nightmare, but Gladia was thankful to her earlier experience on Baleyworld for having given her a preview of what was now a veritable ocean of humanity. The crowds were much larger here in New York than, they had been, on the Settler world, but on the other hand, she was more insulated from the herd here than she had been on the earlier occasion.
The government officials were clearly anxious to be seen with her. There was a wordless, polite struggle for a position near enough to her to be seen with her on hypervision. It isolated her, not only from the crowds on the other side of the police lines, but from D.G. and from her two robots. It also subjected her to a kind of polite jostling from people who seemed to have an eye only on the camera.
She listened to what seemed innumerable speeches, all mercifully brief, without really listening. She smiled periodically, both blandly and blindly, casting the vision of her implanted teeth in all directions indiscriminately.
Gladia went by ground-car through miles of passageways at a crawl, while an uncounted ant heap lined the walkways, cheering and waving as she passed. (She wondered if ever a Spacer had received such adulation from Earthpeople and was quite confident that her own case was entirely unprecedented.)
At one, point, Gladia caught sight of a distant knot of people gathered round a hypervision screen and momentarily had an undoubted glimpse of herself upon it. They were listening, she knew, to a recording of her speech on Baleyworld. Gladia wondered how many times and in how many places and before how many people it was being played now, and how many times it had been played since she gave it, and how many times it would yet be played in the future, and whether anything at all had been heard of it on the Spacer worlds.
Might she, in fact, seem a traitor to the people of Aurora and would this reception be held to be proof of it?
She might-and it might-and she was beyond caring. She had her mission of peace and reconciliation and she would follow it wherever it led without complaint-even to the unbelievable orgy of mass bathing and shrilly unconscious exhibitionism in the Women's Personal that morning. (Well, without much complaint.)
They came to one of, the Expressways that D.G. had mentioned, and Gladia gazed in open horror at the endless snake of passenger cars that passed-and passed-and passed-each with its load of people who were on business that could not be postponed for the motorcade (or who simply didn't want to be bothered) and who stared solemnly at the crowds and the procession for the few moments they remained in sight.
Then the ground-car plunged downward under the Expressway, through a short tunnel that in no way differed, from the passage above (the City was all tunnel), and up again on the other side.
And eventually the motorcade came to an end at a large public building that was mercifully, more attractive than the endlessly repetitious blocks that represented the units of the City's residential section.
Within the building, there was yet another reception, during which alcoholic drinks and various hors d'oeuvres were served. Gladia fastidiously touched neither. A thousand people milled about and an endless succession of them came up to speak to Gladia. The word had apparently gone out not to offer to shake hands, but some inevitably did, and, trying not to hesitate, Gladia would briefly place two fingers on the hand and then withdraw them.
Eventually, a number of women prepared to leave for the nearest Personal and one of them performed what was obviously a social ritual and tactfully asked Gladia if she would like to accompany them. Gladia didn't, but there might be a long night ahead and might be more embarrassing to have to interrupt it later.
Within the Personal, there was the usual excited laughing and chattering and Gladia, bowing to the exigencies of the situation and fortified by her experience that morning, made use of the facilities in a small chamber with partitions on either side, but with none in front of her.
No one seemed to mind and Gladia tried to remind herself she must adjust to local customs. At least the place was well-ventilated and seemed spotlessly clean.
Though out, Daneel and Giskard had been ignored. This, Gladia realized, was a kindness. Robots were no longer allowed within City limits, though there were millions in the countryside without. To have made a point of the presence of Daneel and Giskard would have meant raising the legal, issue that involved. It was easier to pretend, tactfully, that they weren't there.
Once the banquet began, they sat quietly at a table with D.G., not too far removed from the dais. At the dais, Gladia sat, eating sparingly and wondering if the food would give her dysentery.
D.G., perhaps not entirely pleased with his relegation to the post of keeper of the robots, kept staring restlessly in Gladia's direction and, occasionally, she lifted one hand and smiled at him.
Giskard, equally watchful of Gladia, had an opportunity to say to Daneel very quietly, under cover of the relentless and unending background clash of cutlery and babble, "Friend Daneel, these are -high officials that sit -here in this room. It is possible that one or more may have information of use to us."
"It is possible, friend Giskard. Can you, thanks to your abilities, guide me in this respect."
"I cannot. The mental background yields me no specific emotional response of interest. Nor does the occasional flash among the nearest show me anything. Yet the climax of the crisis is, I am certain, approaching quickly, even as we sit here, idle."
Daneel said gravely, "I will try to do as Partner Elijah would- have done and force the pace."
Daneel was not eating. He watched the assemblage with his calm eyes and located the one he was searching for. Quietly, he rose and moved toward another table, his eyes on a woman who was managing to eat briskly and yet maintain a cheerful conversation with the man on her left. She was a stocky woman, with short hair that showed definite traces of gray. Her face, if not youthful, was pleasant.
Daneel waited for a natural break in the conversation and when that did not I come, he said with an effort, "Madam, may I interrupt?"
She looked up at -him, startled and plainly displeased. "Yes," she said rather briskly, "what is it?"
"Madam," said Daneel, "I ask your pardon for this interruption, but may I have your permission to speak with you for a time?"
She stared at him, frowning for a moment, and then her expression softened. She said, "I should guess, from your excessive politeness, that you're the robot, aren't you?"
"I am one of Madam Gladia's robots, madam."
"Yes, but you're the human one. You're R. Daneel Olivaw."
"That is my name, madam."
The woman turned to the man on her left a
nd said, "Please excuse me. I can't very well refuse this-robot."
Her neighbor smiled uncertainly and transferred his attention to the place before him.
The woman said to Daneel, "If you have a chair, why don't you bring it here? I will be glad to speak to you."
"Thank you, madam."
