by Isaac Asimov
Baley woke up, disturbed. He let the robots serve breakfast and did not speak to Daneel. He said nothing, asked nothing, downed excellent coffee without tasting it.
Why had he dreamed of the visible invisible sun? He could understand dreaming of Earth and of Jessie, but what had the sun to do with it? And why should the thought of it bother him, anyway?
“Partner Elijah,” said Daneel gently.
“What?”
“Corwin Attlebish will be in viewing contact with you in half an hour. I have arranged that.”
“Who the hell is Corwin Whatchamacullum?” asked Baley sharply, and refilled his coffee cup.
“He was Agent Gruer’s chief aide, Partner Elijah, and is now Acting Head of Security.”
“Then get him now.”
“The appointment, as I explained, is for half an hour from now.”
“I don’t care when it’s for. Get him now. That’s an order.”
“I will make the attempt, Partner Elijah. He may not, however, agree to receive the call.”
“Let’s take the chance, and get on with it, Daneel.”
The Acting Head of Security accepted the call and, for the first time on Solaria, Baley saw a Spacer who looked like the usual Earthly conception of one. Attlebish was tall, lean, and bronze. His eyes were a light brown, his chin large and hard.
He looked faintly like Daneel. But whereas Daneel was idealized, almost godlike, Corwin Attlebish had lines of humanity in his face.
Attlebish was shaving. The small abrasive pencil gave out its spray of fine particles that swept over cheek and chin, biting off the hair neatly and then disintegrating into impalpable dust.
Baley recognized the instrument through hearsay but had never seen one used before.
“You the Earthman?” asked Attlebish slurringly through barely cracked lips, as the abrasive dust passed under his nose.
Baley said, “I’m Elijah Baley, Plainclothesman C-7. I’m from Earth.”
“You’re early.” Attlebish snapped his shaver shut and tossed it somewhere outside Baley’s range of vision. “What’s on your mind, Earthman?”
Baley would not have enjoyed the other’s tone of voice at the best of times. He burned now. He said, “How is Agent Gruer?”
Attlebish said, “He’s still alive. He may stay alive.”
Baley nodded. “Your poisoners here on Solaria don’t know dosages. Lack of experience. They gave Gruer too much and he threw it up. Half the dose would have killed him.”
“Poisoners? There is no evidence for poison.”
Baley stared. “Jehoshaphat! What else do you think it is?”
“A number of things. Much can go wrong with a person.” He rubbed his face, looking for roughness with his fingertips. “You would scarcely know the metabolic problems that arise past the age of two fifty.”
“If that’s the case, have you obtained competent medical advice?”
“Dr. Thool’s report—”
That did it. The anger that had been boiling inside Baley since waking burst through. He cried at the top of his voice, “I don’t care about Dr. Thool. I said competent medical advice. Your doctors don’t know anything, any more than your detectives would, if you had any. You had to get a detective from Earth. Get a doctor as
The Solarian looked at him coolly. “Are you telling me what to do?”
“Yes, and without charge. Be my guest. Gruer was poisoned. I witnessed the process. He drank, retched, and yelled that his throat was burning. What do you call it when you consider that he was investigating—” Baley came to a sudden halt.
“Investigating what?” Attlebish was unmoved.
Baley was uncomfortably aware of Daneel at his usual position some ten feet away. Gruer had not wanted Daneel, as an Auroran, to know of the investigation. He said lamely, “There were political implications.”
Attlebish crossed his arms and looked distant, bored, and faintly hostile. “We have no politics on Solaria in the sense we hear of it on other worlds. Hannis Gruer has been a good citizen, but he is imaginative. It was he who, having heard some story about you, urged that we import you. He even agreed to accept an Auroran companion for you as a condition. I did not think it necessary. There is no mystery. Rikaine Delmarre was killed by his wife and we shall find out how and why. Even if we do not, she will be genetically
analyzed and the proper measures taken. As for Gruer, your fantasy concerning poisoning is of no importance.”
Baley said incredulously, “You seem to imply that I’m not needed here.”
“I believe not. If you wish to return to Earth, you may do so. I may even say we urge you to.”
Baley was amazed at his own reaction. He cried, “No, sir. I don’t budge.”
“We hired you, Plainclothesman. We can discharge you. You will return to your home planet.”
“No! You listen to me. I’d advise you to. You’re a big time Spacer and I’m an Earthman, but with all respect, with deepest and most humble apologies, you’re scared.”
“Withdraw that statement!” Attlebish drew himself to his six foot plus, and stared down at the Earthman haughtily.
“You’re scared as hell. You think you’ll be next if you pursue this thing. You’re giving in so they’ll let you alone; so they’ll leave you your miserable life.” Baley had no notion who the “they” might be or if there were any “they” at all. He was striking out blindly at an arrogant Spacer and enjoying the thud his phrases made as they hit against the other’s self control.
“You will leave,” said Attlebish, pointing his finger in cold anger, “within the hour. There’ll be no diplomatic considerations about this, I assure you.”
“Save your threats, Spacer. Earth is nothing to you, I admit, but I’m not the only one here. May I introduce my partner, Daneel Olivaw. He’s from Aurora. He doesn’t talk much. He’s not here to talk. I handle that department. But he listens awfully well. He doesn’t miss a word.
“Let me put it straight, Attlebish”—Baley used the unadorned name with relish—“whatever monkeyshines are going on here on Solaria, Aurora and forty odd other Outer Worlds are interested. If you kick us off, the next deputation to visit Solaria will consist of warships. I’m from Earth and I know how the system works. Hurt feelings mean warships by return trip.”
Attlebish transferred his regard to Daneel and seemed to be considering. His voice was gentler. “There is nothing going on here that need concern anyone outside the planet.”
“Gruer thought otherwise and my partner heard him.” This was no time to cavil at a lie.
Daneel turned to look at Baley, at the Earthman’s last statement, but Baley paid no attention. He drove on: “I intend to pursue this investigation. Ordinarily, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get back to Earth. Even just dreaming about it gets me so restless I can’t sit. If I owned this robot infested palace I’m living in now, I’d give it with the robots thrown in and you and all your lousy world to boot for a ticket home.
“But I won’t be ordered off by you. Not while there’s a case to which I’ve been assigned that’s still open. Try getting rid of me against my will and you’ll be looking down the throats of space based artillery.
“What’s more, from now on, this murder investigation is going to be run my way. I’m in charge. I see the people I want to see. I see them. I don’t view them. I’m used to seeing and that’s the way it’s going to be. I’ll want the official approval of your office for all of that.”
“This is impossible, unbearable—”
“Daneel, you tell him.”
The humanoid’s voice said dispassionately, “As my partner has informed you, Agent Attlebish, we have been sent here to conduct a murder investigation. It is essential that we do so. We, of course, do not wish to disturb any of your customs and perhaps actual seeing will be unnecessary, although it would be helpful if you were to give approval for such seeing as becomes necessary as Plainclothesman Baley has requested. As to leaving the planet against our
will, we feel that would be inadvisable, although we regret any feeling on your part or on the part of any Solarian that our remaining would be unpleasant.”
Baley listened to the stilted sentence structure with a dour stretching of his lips that was not a smile. To one who knew Daneel as a robot, it was all an attempt to do a job without giving offense to any human, not to Baley and not to Attlebish. To one who thought Daneel was an Auroran, a native of the oldest and most powerful militarily of the Outer Worlds, it sounded like a series of subtly courteous threats.
Attlebish put the tips 0f his fingers to his forehead. “I’ll think about it.”
“Not too long,” said Baley, “because I have some visiting to do within the hour, and not by viewer. Done viewing!”
He signaled the robot to break contact, then he stared with surprise and pleasure at the place where Attlebish had been. None of this had been planned. It had all been impulse born of his dream and of Attlebish’s unnecessary arrogance. But now that it had happened, he was glad. It was what he had wanted, really to take control.
He thought: Anyway, that was telling the dirty Spacer!
He wished the entire population of Earth could have been here to watch. The man looked such a Spacer, and that made it all the better, of course. All the better.
Only, why this feeling of vehemence in the matter of seeing? Baley scarcely understood that. He knew what he planned to do, and seeing (not viewing) was part of it. All right. Yet there had been the tight lift to his spirit when he spoke of seeing, as though he were ready to break down the walls of this mansion even though it served no purpose.
Why?
There was something impelling him beside the case, something that had nothing to do even with the question of Earth’s safety. But what?
Oddly, he remembered his dream again; the sun shining down through all the opaque layers of the gigantic underground Cities of Earth.
Daneel said with thoughtfulness (as far as his voice could carry a recognizable emotion), “I wonder, Partner Elijah, if this is entirely safe.”
“Bluffing this character? It worked. And it wasn’t really a bluff. I think it is important to Aurora to find out what’s going on on Solaria, and that Aurora knows it. Thank you, by the way, for not catching me out in a misstatement.”
“It was the natural decision. To have borne you out did Agent Attlebish a certain rather subtle harm. To have given you the lie would have done you a greater and more direct harm.”
“Potentials countered and the higher one won out, eh, Daneel?”
“So it was, Partner Elijah. I understand that this process, in a
less definable way, goes on within the human mind. I repeat, however, that this new proposal of yours is not safe.”
“Which new proposal is this?”
“I do not approve your notion of seeing people. By that I mean seeing as opposed to viewing.”
“I understand you. I’m not asking for your approval.”
“I have my instructions, Partner Elijah. What it was that Agent Hannis Gruer told you during my absence last night I cannot know. That he did say something is obvious from the change in your attitude toward this problem. However, in the light of my instructions, I can guess. He must have warned you of the possibility of danger to other planets arising from the situation on Solaria.”
Slowly Baley reached for his pipe. He did that occasionally and always there was the feeling of irritation when he found nothing and remembered he could not smoke. He said, “There are only twenty thousand Solarians. What danger can they represent?”
“My masters on Aurora have for some time been uneasy about Solaria. I have not been told all the information at their disposal—”
“And what little you have been told you have been told not to repeat to me. Is that it?” demanded Baley.
Daneel said, “There is a great deal to find out before this matter can be discussed freely.”
“Well, what are the Solarians doing? New weapons? Paid subversion? A campaign of individual assassination? What can twenty thousand people do against hundreds of millions of Spacers?”
Daneel remained silent.
Baley said, “I intend to find out, you know.”
“But not the way you have now proposed, Partner Elijah. I have been instructed most carefully to guard your safety.”
“You would have to anyway. First Law!”
“Over and above that, as well. In conflict between your safety and that of another I must guard yours.”
“Of course. I understand that. If anything happens to me, there is no further way in which you can remain on Solaria without complications that Aurora is not yet ready to face. As long as I’m alive, I’m here at Solaria’s original request and so we can throw our weight around, if necessary, and make them keep us. If I’m dead, the whole situation is changed. Your orders are, then, to keep Baley alive. Am I right, Daneel?”
Daneel said, “I cannot presume to interpret the reasoning behind my orders.”
Baley said, “All right, don’t worry. The open space won’t kill me, If I do find it necessary to see anyone. I’ll survive. I may even get used to it.”
“It is not the matter of open space alone, Partner Elijah,” said Daneel. “It is this matter of seeing Solarians. I do not approve of it.”
“You mean the Spacers won’t like it. Too bad if they don’t. Let them wear nose filters and gloves. Let them spray the air. And if it offends their nice morals to see me in the flesh, let them wince and blush. But I intend to see them. I consider it necessary to do so and I will do so.”
“But I cannot allow you to.”
“You can’t allow me?”
“Surely you see why, Partner Elijah.”
“I do not.”
“Consider, then, that Agent Cruer, the key Solarian figure in the investigation of this murder, has been poisoned. Does it not follow that if I permit you to proceed in your plan for exposing yourself indiscriminately in actual person, the next victim will necessarily be you yourself. How then can I possibly permit you to leave the safety of this mansion?”
“How will you stop me, Daneel?”
“By force, if necessary, Partner Elijah,” said Daneel calmly. “Even if I must hurt you. If I do not do so, you will surely die.”
9. A ROBOT IS STYMIED
Baley said, “So the higher potential wins out again, Daneel. You will hurt me to keep me alive.”
“I do not believe hurting you will be necessary, Partner Elijah. You know that I am superior to you in strength and you will not attempt a useless resistance. If it should become necessary, however, I will be compelled to hurt you.”
“I could blast you down where you stand,” said Baley. “Right now! There is nothing in my potentials to prevent me.”
“I had thought you might take this attitude at some time in our present relationship, Partner Elijah. Most particularly, the thought occurred to me during our trip to this mansion, when you grew momentarily violent in the ground car .The destruction of myself is unimportant in comparison with your safety, but such destruction would cause you distress eventually and disturb the plans of my masters. It was one of my first cares, therefore, during your first sleeping period, to deprive your blaster of its charge.”
Baley’s lips tightened. He was left without a charged blaster! His hand dropped instantly to his holster. He drew his weapon and stared at the charge reading. It hugged zero.
For a moment he balanced the lump of useless metal as though to hurl it directly into Daneel’s face. What good? The robot would dodge efficiently.
Baley put the blaster back. It could be recharged in good time. Slowly, thoughtfully, he said, “I’m not fooled by you, Daneel.”
“In what way, Partner Elijah.”
“You are too much the master. I am too completely stopped by you. Are you a robot?”
“You have doubted me before,” said Daneel.
“On Earth last year, I doubted whether R. Daneel Olivaw was truly a rob
ot. It turned out he was. I believe he still is. My question, however is this: Are you R. Daneel Olivaw?”
“I am.”
“Yes? Daneel was designed to imitate a Spacer closely. Why could not a Spacer be made up to imitate Daneel closely?”
“For what reason?”
“To carry on an investigation here with greater initiative and capacity than ever a robot could. And yet by assuming Daneel’s role, you could keep me safely under control by giving me a false consciousness of mastery. After all, you are working through me and I must be kept pliable.”
“All this is not so, Partner Elijah.”
“Then why do all the Solarians we meet assume you to be human? They are robotic experts. Are they so easily fooled? It occurs to me that I cannot be one right against many wrong. It is far more likely that I am one wrong against many right.”
“Not at all, Partner Elijah.”
“Prove it,” said Baley, moving slowly toward an end table and lifting a scrap disposal unit. “You can do that easily enough, if you are a robot. Show the metal beneath your skin.”
Daneel said, “I assure you—”
“Show the metal,” said Baley crisply. “That is an order! Or don’t you feel compelled to obey orders?”
Daneel unbuttoned his shirt. The smooth, bronze skin of his chest was sparsely covered with light hair. Daneel’s fingers exerted a firm pressure just under the right nipple, and flesh and skin split bloodlessly the length of the chest, with the gleam of metal showing beneath.
And as that happened, Baley’s fingers, resting on the end table, moved half an inch to the right and stabbed at a contact patch. Almost at once a robot entered.
“Don’t move, Daneel,” cried Baley. “That’s an order! Freeze!”
Daneel stood motionless, as though life, or the robotic imitation thereof, had departed from him.
Baley shouted to the robot, “Can you get two more of the staff in here without yourself leaving? If so, do it.”
The robot said, “Yes, master.”
Two more robots entered, answering a radioed call. The three lined up abreast.
