Isaac Asimov - Robots and Empire

“Well, I should hope so.”

“You needn’t hope so quite that emphatically. But never mind.—Let me apologize for seeing so little of you since leaving Aurora.”

“That’s scarcely necessary—”

“Since you brought it up, I thought it was. However, let me explain, then. We’ve been on battle footing. We were certain, having left as we did, that Auroran vessels would be in pursuit.”

“I should think they’d be glad to be rid of a group of Settlers.”

“Of course, but you’re not a Settler and it might be you they would want. They were anxious enough to get you back from Baleyworld.”

“They got me back. I reported to them and that was it.”

“They wanted nothing more than your report?”

“No,” Gladia paused and, for a moment, frowned as though something was nibbling vaguely at her memory. Whatever it was, it passed and she said indifferently, “No.”

D.G. shrugged. “It doesn’t entirely make sense, but they made no attempt to stop us while you and I were on Aurora nor, after that, when we boarded the ship and it prepared to leave orbit. I won’t quarrel with that. It won’t be long now before we make the Jump—and after that there should be nothing to worry about.”

Gladia said, “Why do you have an all-male crew, by the way? Auroran ships always have mixed crews.”

“So do Settler ships. Ordinary ones. This is a Trader vessel.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Trading involves danger. It’s rather a rough-and-ready life. Women on board would create problems.”

“What nonsense! What problems do I create?”

“We won’t argue that. Besides it’s traditional. The men wouldn’t stand for it.”

“How do you know?” Gladia laughed. “Have you ever tried it?”

“No. But, on the other hand, there are no long lines of women clamoring for a berth on my ship.”

“I’m here. I’m enjoying it.”

“You’re getting special treatment—and but for your service on Solaria, there might well have been much trouble. In fact, there was trouble. Still, never mind.” He touched one of the contacts on the console and a countdown briefly appeared. “We’ll be jumping in just about two minutes. You’ve never been on Earth, have you, Gladia?”

“No, of course not.”

“Or seen the sun, not just a sun.”

“No—although I have seen it in historical dramas on hypervision, but I imagine what the show in the dramas is not really the sun.

“I’m sure it isn’t. If you don’t mind, we’ll dim the cabin lights.”

The lights dimmed to nearly nothing and Gladia was aware of the star field on the viewing panel, with the stars brighter and more thickly spread than in Aurora’s sky.

“Is that a telescopic view?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Slightly. Low-power—Fifteen seconds.” He counted backward. There was a shift in the star field and a bright star was now nearly centered. D.G. touched another contact and said, “We’re well outside the planetary plane. Good! A little risky. We should have been farther from the Auroran star before Jumping, but we were in a slight hurry. That’s the sun.”

“That bright star, you mean?”

“Yes.—What do you think of it?”

Gladia said, a little puzzled over what sort of response he expected, “It’s bright.”

He pushed another contact and the view dimmed perceptibly. “Yes—and it won’t do your eyes any good if you stare at it. But it’s not the brightness that counts. It’s just a star in appearance—but think of it. That was the original sun. That was the star whose light shone down on a planet that was the only planet on which human beings existed. It shone down on a planet on which human beings were slowly evolving. It shone down on a planet on which life formed billions of years ago, life that would develop into human beings. There are 300 billion stars in the Galaxy and 100 billion galaxies in the Universe and there is only one of all those stars that presided over the human birth and that is the star.”

Gladia was about to say: “Well, some star had to be the star,” but she thought better of it. “Very impressive,” she said rather weakly.

“It’s not merely impressive,” said D.G., his eyes shadowed in the dimness, “There’s not a Settler in the Galaxy who doesn’t consider that star his own. The radiation of the stars that shine down on our various home planets is borrowed radiation—rented radiation that we make use of. There—right there—is the real radiation that gave us life. It is that star and the planet that circles it—Earth—that holds us all together in a tight bond. If we shared nothing else, we would share that light on the screen and it would be enough.—You Spacers have forgotten it and that is why you fall apart from each other and that is why you will not, in the long run, survive.”

“There is room for us all, Captain,” said Gladia softly.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t do anything to force non survival on Spacers. I just believe that that is what will happen and it might not happen if Spacers would give up their irritating certainty of superiority, their robots, and their self-absorption in long life.”

“Is that how you see me, D.G.?” asked Gladia.

D.G. said, “You’ve had your moments. You’ve improved, though. I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you,” she replied with evident irony. “And though you may find it hard to believe, Settlers have their prideful arrogance, too. But you’ve also improved and I’ll give you that.”

D.G. laughed. “With all that I’m kindly giving you and you’re kindly giving me, this is liable to end as a lifelong enmity.”

“Scarcely,” said Gladia, laughing in her turn, and was a little surprised to find that his hand was resting on hers.—And a great deal surprised to find that she had not removed her hand.

Daneel said, “I am uneasy, friend Giskard, that Madam Gladia is not under our direct observation.”

“That is not needful on board this ship, friend Daneel. I detect no dangerous emotions and the captain is with her at the moment.—In addition, there would be advantages to her finding it comfortable to be without us, at least on occasion, while we are all on Earth. It is possible that you and I might have to take sudden action without wishing to have her presence and safety a complicating factor.”

“Then you manipulated her separation from us now?”

“Scarcely. Oddly enough, I found a strong tendency in her to imitate the Settler way of life in this respect. She has a subdued longing for independence, hampered chiefly by the feeling that she is violating Spacerhood in this. That is the best way in which I can describe it. The sensations and emotions are by no means easy to interpret, for I have never encountered it among Spacers before. So I merely loosened the Spacerhood inhibition by the merest touch.”

“Will she then no longer be willing to avail herself of our services, friend Giskard? That would disturb me.”

“It should not. If she should decide she wishes a life free of robots and will be happier so, it is what we will want for her, too. As it is, though, I am sure we will still be useful to her. This ship is a small and specialized habitat in which there is no great danger. She had a further feeling of security in the captain’s presence and that reduces her need for us. On Earth, she will still need us, though I trust not in quite so tight a fashion as on Aurora. As I have said, we may need greater flexibility of action once on Earth.”

“Can you yet guess, then, the nature of the crisis facing Earth? Do you know what it is we will have to do?”

Giskard said, “No, friend Daneel. I do not. It is you that have the gift of understanding. Is there something, perhaps, that you see?”