Isaac Asimov - Robots and Empire

Gladia said, coldly, “Your permission to take me along to Solaria was granted you by the Auroran Council on the condition that you bring me back.”

“Actually that is not so, my lady. There may have been some informal understanding to that effect, but there is nothing in writing. No formal agreement.”

“An informal understanding would bind me—or any civilized individual, D.G.”

“I’m sure of that, Madam Gladia, but we Traders live by money and by written signatures on legal documents. I would never, under any circumstances, violate a written contract or refuse to do that for which I have accepted payment.”

Gladia’s chin turned upward. “Is that a hint that I must pay you in order to be taken home?”

“Madam!”

“Come, come, D.G. Don’t waste mock indignation on me. If I am to be kept prisoner on your planet, say so and tell me why. Let me know exactly where I stand.”

“You are not my prisoner and will not be. In fact, I will honor this unwritten understanding. I will take you home—eventually. First, however, I must go to Baleyworld and you must come with me.”

“Why must I come with you?”

“The people of my world will want to see you. You are the heroine of Solaria. You saved us. You can’t deprive them of a chance of shouting themselves hoarse for you. Besides, you were the good friend of the Ancestor.”

“What do they know—or think they know—of that?” Gladia said sharply.

D.G. grinned. “Nothing to your discredit—I assure you. You are a legend and legends are larger than life—though I admit it would be easy for a legend to be larger than you, my lady—and a good deal nobler. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t want you on the world because you couldn’t live up to the legend. You’re not tall enough, beautiful enough, majestic enough. But when the story of Solaria comes out, you will suddenly meet all requirements. In fact, they may not want to let you go. You must remember we are talking of Baleyworld, the planet on which the story of the Ancestor is taken more seriously than on any other—and you are part of the story.”

“You are not to use that as an excuse to keep me in prison.”

“I promise you I won’t. And I promise I will get you home—when I can—when I can.”

Gladia did not remain as indignant somehow as she felt she had every right to be. She did want to see what a Settler world was like and, after all, this was Elijah Baley’s peculiar world. His son had founded it. He himself had spent his last decades here. On Baleyworld, there would be remnants of him—the name of the planet, his descendants, his legend.

So she watched the planet—and thought of Elijah.

The watching brought her little and she felt disappointed. There was not much to be seen through the cloud layer that covered the planet. From her relatively small experience as a space traveler it seemed to her that the cloud layer was denser than usual for inhabited planets. They would be landing within hours, now, and—

The signal light flashed and Gladia scrambled to push the HOLD button in answer. A few moments more and she pushed the ENTER button.

D.G. came in, smiling. “Inconvenient moment, my lady?”

“Not really,” said Gladia. “Simply a matter of putting on my gloves and inserting my nose plugs. I suppose I should wear them all the time, but both grow tiresome and, for some reason, I grow less concerned about infection.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt, my lady.”

“Let’s not call it contempt,” said Gladia, who found herself smiling.

“Thank you,” said D.G. “We’ll be landing soon, madam, and I have brought you a coverall, carefully sterilized and placed inside this plastic bag so that it has since been untouched by Settler hands. It’s simple to put on. You’ll have no trouble and you’ll find it covers everything but the nose and eyes.”

“Just for me, D.G.?”

“No, no, my lady. We all wear such things when outdoors at this season of the year. It is winter in our capital city at the present time and it is cold. We live on a rather cold world—heavy cloud cover, much precipitation, often snow.”

“Even in the tropical regions?”

“No, there it tends to be hot and dry. The population clusters in the cooler regions, however. We rather like it. It’s bracing and stimulating. The seas, which were seeded with Earth species of life, are fertile, so that fish and other creatures have multiplied abundantly. There’s no food shortage, consequently, even though land agriculture is limited and we’ll never be the breadbasket of the Galaxy.—The summers are short but quite hot and the beaches are then well populated, although you might find them uninteresting since we have a strong nudity taboo.”

“It seems like peculiar weather.”

“A matter of land-sea distribution, a planetary orbit that is a bit more eccentric than most, and a few other things. Frankly, I don’t bother with it.” He shrugged. “It’s not my field of interest.”

“You’re a Trader. I imagine you’re not on the planet often.”

“True, but I’m not a Trader in order to escape. I like it here. And yet perhaps I would like it less if I were here more. If we look at it that way, Baleyworld’s harsh conditions serve an important purpose. They encourage trading. Baleyworld produces men who scour the seas for food and there’s a certain similarity between sailing the seas and sailing through space. I would say fully a third of all the Traders plying the space lanes are Baleypeople.”

“You seem in a semimanic state, D.G.,” said Gladia.

“Do I? I think of myself right now as being in a good humor. I have reason to be. So have you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We got off Solaria alive. We know exactly what the Solarian danger is. We’ve gained control of an unusual weapon that should interest our military. And you will be the heroine of Baleyworld. The world officials already know the outline of events and are eager to greet you. For that matter, you’re the heroine of this ship. Almost every man on board volunteered to bring you this coverall. They are all anxious to get close and bathe in your aura, so to speak.”

“Quite a change,” said Gladia dryly.

“Absolutely. Niss—the crewman whom your Daneel chastised—”

“I remember well, D.G.”

“He is anxious to apologize to you. And bring his four mates so that they, too, might apologize. And to kick, in you presence, the one of them who made an improper suggestion. He is not a bad person, my lady.”

“I am certain he isn’t. Assure him, he is forgiven and the incident forgotten. And if you’ll arrange matters, I will shake hands with him and perhaps some of the others before debarking. But you mustn’t let them crowd about me.”

“I understand, but I can’t guarantee there won’t be a certain amount of crowding in Baleytown—that’s the capital city of Baleyworld. There’s no way of stopping various government officials from trying to gain political advantage by being seen with you, while grinning away and bowing.”

“Jehoshaphat! As your Ancestor would say.”

“Don’t say that once we land, madam. It’s an expression reserved for him. It is considered bad taste for anyone else to say it.—There’ll be speeches and cheering and all kinds of meaningless formalities. I’m sorry, my lady.”

She said thoughtfully, “I could do without it, but I suppose there’s no way of stopping it.”

“No way, my lady.”

“How long will it continue?”

“Till they get tired. Several days, perhaps, but there’ll be a certain variety to it.”

“And how long do we stay on the planet?”

“Till I get tired. I’m sorry, my lady, but I have much to do—places to go—friends to see—”