Daneel?” Baley asked.
“About fifty, Partner Elijah.”
“Will they stay here while we eat?” (One had backed into a corner, his glossy, glowing-eyed face turned toward Baley.)
“It is the usual practice,” said Daneel, “for one to do so in case its service is called upon. If you do not wish that, you have only to order it to leave.”
Baley shrugged. “Let it stay!”
Under normal conditions Baley might have found the food delicious. Now he ate mechanically. He noted abstractedly that Daneel ate also, with a kind of unimpassioned efficiency. Later on, of course, he would empty the fluorocarbon sac within him into which the “eaten” food was now being stored. Meanwhile Daneel maintained his masquerade.
• • •
“Is it night outside?” asked Baley.
“It is,” replied Daneel.
Baley stared somberly at the bed. It was too large. The whole bedroom was too large. There were no blankets to burrow under, only sheets. They would make a poor enclosure.
Everything was difficult! He had already gone through the unnerving experience of showering in a stall that actually adjoined the bedroom. It was the height of luxury in a way, yet, on the other hand, it seemed an unsanitary arrangement.
He said abruptly, “How is the light put out?” The headboard of the bed gleamed with a soft light. Perhaps that was to facilitate book viewing before sleeping, but Baley was in no mood for that.
“It will be taken care of once you’re in bed, if you compose yourself for sleep.”
“The robots watch, do they?”
“It is their job.”
“Jehoshaphat! What do these Solarians do for
themselves
?” Baley muttered. “I wonder now why a robot didn’t scrub my back in the shower.”
With no trace of humor Daneel said, “One would have, had you required it. As for the Solarians, they do what they choose. No robot performs his duty if ordered not to, except, of course, where the performance is necessary to the wellbeing of the human.”
“Well, good night, Daneel.”
“I will be in another bedroom, Partner Elijah. If, at any time during the night, you need anything——”
“I know. The robots will come.”
“There is a contact patch on the side table. You have only to touch it. I will come too.”
• • •
Sleep eluded Baley. He kept picturing the house he was in, balanced precariously at the outer skin of the world, with emptiness waiting just outside like a monster.
On Earth his apartment—his snug, comfortable, crowded apartment—sat nestled beneath many others. There were dozens of Levels and thousands of people between himself and the rim of Earth.
Even on Earth, he tried to tell himself, there were people on the topmost Level. They would be immediately adjacent to the outside. Sure! But that’s what made those apartments low-rent.
Then he thought of Jessie, a thousand light-years away.
He wanted terribly to get out of bed right now, dress, and walk to her. His thoughts grew mistier. If there were only a tunnel, a nice, safe tunnel burrowing its way through safe, solid rock and metal from Solaria to Earth, he would walk and walk and walk.…
He would walk back to Earth, back to Jessie, back to comfort and security.…
Security
.
Baley’s eyes opened. His arms grew rigid and he rose up on his elbow, scarcely aware that he was doing so.
Security! This man, Hannis Gruer, was head of Solarian security. So Daneel had said. What did “security” mean? If it meant the same as it meant on Earth, and surely it must, this man Gruer was responsible for the protection of Solaria against invasion from without and subversion from within.
Why was he interested in a murder case? Was it because there were no police on Solaria and the Departmentof Security would come the closest to knowing what to do about a murder?
Gruer had seemed at ease with Baley, yet there had been those furtive glances, again and again, in the direction of Daneel.
Did Gruer suspect the motives of Daneel?
“About fifty, Partner Elijah.”
“Will they stay here while we eat?” (One had backed into a corner, his glossy, glowing-eyed face turned toward Baley.)
“It is the usual practice,” said Daneel, “for one to do so in case its service is called upon. If you do not wish that, you have only to order it to leave.”
Baley shrugged. “Let it stay!”
Under normal conditions Baley might have found the food delicious. Now he ate mechanically. He noted abstractedly that Daneel ate also, with a kind of unimpassioned efficiency. Later on, of course, he would empty the fluorocarbon sac within him into which the “eaten” food was now being stored. Meanwhile Daneel maintained his masquerade.
• • •
“Is it night outside?” asked Baley.
“It is,” replied Daneel.
Baley stared somberly at the bed. It was too large. The whole bedroom was too large. There were no blankets to burrow under, only sheets. They would make a poor enclosure.
Everything was difficult! He had already gone through the unnerving experience of showering in a stall that actually adjoined the bedroom. It was the height of luxury in a way, yet, on the other hand, it seemed an unsanitary arrangement.
He said abruptly, “How is the light put out?” The headboard of the bed gleamed with a soft light. Perhaps that was to facilitate book viewing before sleeping, but Baley was in no mood for that.
“It will be taken care of once you’re in bed, if you compose yourself for sleep.”
“The robots watch, do they?”
“It is their job.”
“Jehoshaphat! What do these Solarians do for
themselves
?” Baley muttered. “I wonder now why a robot didn’t scrub my back in the shower.”
With no trace of humor Daneel said, “One would have, had you required it. As for the Solarians, they do what they choose. No robot performs his duty if ordered not to, except, of course, where the performance is necessary to the wellbeing of the human.”
“Well, good night, Daneel.”
“I will be in another bedroom, Partner Elijah. If, at any time during the night, you need anything——”
“I know. The robots will come.”
“There is a contact patch on the side table. You have only to touch it. I will come too.”
• • •
Sleep eluded Baley. He kept picturing the house he was in, balanced precariously at the outer skin of the world, with emptiness waiting just outside like a monster.
On Earth his apartment—his snug, comfortable, crowded apartment—sat nestled beneath many others. There were dozens of Levels and thousands of people between himself and the rim of Earth.
Even on Earth, he tried to tell himself, there were people on the topmost Level. They would be immediately adjacent to the outside. Sure! But that’s what made those apartments low-rent.
Then he thought of Jessie, a thousand light-years away.
He wanted terribly to get out of bed right now, dress, and walk to her. His thoughts grew mistier. If there were only a tunnel, a nice, safe tunnel burrowing its way through safe, solid rock and metal from Solaria to Earth, he would walk and walk and walk.…
He would walk back to Earth, back to Jessie, back to comfort and security.…
Security
.
Baley’s eyes opened. His arms grew rigid and he rose up on his elbow, scarcely aware that he was doing so.
Security! This man, Hannis Gruer, was head of Solarian security. So Daneel had said. What did “security” mean? If it meant the same as it meant on Earth, and surely it must, this man Gruer was responsible for the protection of Solaria against invasion from without and subversion from within.
Why was he interested in a murder case? Was it because there were no police on Solaria and the Departmentof Security would come the closest to knowing what to do about a murder?
Gruer had seemed at ease with Baley, yet there had been those furtive glances, again and again, in the direction of Daneel.
Did Gruer suspect the motives of Daneel?
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