Isaac Asimov - Robots and Empire

“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. “Don’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.”

D.G. grinned sourly. “We Settlers are aware of that. Very puritanical, you people.”

“Not puritanical at all,” said Gladia, frowning. “Thirty to forty decades of life must be paid for—and that’s one of the ways. You don’t suppose we do it by magic, do you?”

“Well, I’ll make do on healthful fruit juices and sanitized near-coffee—and I’ll smell flowers.”

“You’ll find an ample supply of such things,” said Gladia coldly, and when you get back to your ship, I’m sure you can compensate for any withdrawal symptoms you will now suffer.”

“I will suffer only from your withdrawal, my lady,” said D.G. gravely.

Gladia found herself forced to smile. “You’re an incorrigible liar, my captain. I’ll be back.—Daneel.—Giskard.”

Gladia sat stiffly in Amadiro’s office. In many decades, she had seen Amadiro only in the distance or on a viewing screen and on such occasions, she had made it a practice to turn away. She remembered him only as Fastolfe’s great enemy and now that she found herself, for the first time, in the same room with him—in face-to-face confrontation she had to freeze her face into expressionlessness, in order not to allow hate to peep through.

Although she and Amadiro were the only palpable human beings in the room, there were at least a dozen high officials—the Chairman himself among them—who were present by way of sealed-beam holovision. Gladia had recognized the Chairman and some of the others, but not all.

It was rather a grisly experience. It seemed so like the viewing that was universal of Solaria and to which she had been so accustomed as a girl—and which she recalled with such distaste.

She made an effort to speak clearly, undramatically, and concisely. When asked a question, she was as brief as was consistent with clarity and as noncommittal as was consistent with courtesy.

The Chairman listened impassively and the others took their cue from him. He was clearly elderly—Chairmen always were, somehow, for it was usually late in life that they attained the position. He had a long face, a still thick head of hair, and prominent eyebrows. His voice was mellifluous, but in no way friendly.