Isaac Asimov - Robots and Empire

“Not like this.” She sniffed. “It smells.”

“Every world smells. Every City on Earth smells differently. You’ll get used to it.”

“Do I want to? Why don’t people suffocate?”

“Excellent ventilation.”

“What happens when it breaks down?”

“It never does.”

Gladia looked about again and said. “Every building seems loaded with balconies.”

“It’s a sign of status. Very few people have apartments facing out and if they do have one they want the advantage of it. Most Citypeople live inside windowless apartments.”

Gladia shuddered, “Horrible! What’s the name of this City, D.G.?”

“It’s New York. It’s the chief City, but not the largest. On this continent, Mexico City and Los Angeles are the largest and there are Cities larger than New York on other continents.”

“What makes New York the chief City, then?”

“The usual reason. The Global Government is located here. The United Nations.”

“Nations?” She pointed her finger triumphantly at D.G. “Earth was divided into several independent political units. Right?”

“Right. Dozens of them. But that was before hyperspatial. Travel prehyper times. The name remains, though. That’s what’s wonderful about Earth. It’s frozen history. Every other world is new and shallow. Only Earth is humanity in its essence.”

D.G. said it in a hushed whisper and then retreated back into the room. It was not a large one and its furnishings were skimpy.

Gladia said, disappointed, “Why isn’t there anyone about?”

D.G. laughed. “Don’t worry, dear. If it’s parades and attention you want, you’ll have them. It’s just that I asked them to leave us alone for a while. I want a little peace and rest and I imagine you do, too. As for my men, they have to berth the ship, clean it up, renew supplies, tend to their devotions—”

“Women?”

“No, that’s not what I mean, though I suppose women will play a role later. By devotions, I mean that Earth still has its religions and these comfort the men somehow. Here on Earth, anyway. It seems to have more meaning here.”

“Well,” said Gladia half-contemptuously. “Frozen history, as you say.—Do you suppose we can get out of the building and walk about a bit?”

“Take my advice, Gladia, and don’t jump into that sort of thing just now. You’ll get plenty of it when the ceremonies begin.”

“But that will be so formal. Could we skip the ceremonies?”

“No chance at all. Since you insisted on making yourself a heroine on Baleyworld, you’ll have to be one on Earth as well. Still, the ceremonies will be through eventually. When you recover from them, we will get a guide and we’ll really see the City.”

“Will we have any trouble taking my robots with us?” She gestured toward Daneel and Giskard at the other end of the room. “I don’t mind being without them when I’m with you on the ship, but if I’m going to be with crowds of strangers I’ll feel more secure having them with me.”

“There’ll be no problem with Daneel, certainly. He’s a hero in his own right. He was the Ancestor’s partner and he passes for human. Giskard, who is an obvious robot, should, in theory, not be allowed inside the City borders, but they’ve made an exception in his case and I hope they will continue to do so. It is too bad, in a way, that we must wait here and can’t step outside.”

“You say I should not be exposed to all that noise just yet,” said Gladia.

“No, no. I’m not referring to the public squares and roadways. I would just like to take you out into the corridors within this particular building. There are miles and miles of them literally—and they’re a small bit of City in themselves: shopping recesses, dining halls, amusement areas, Personals, elevators, transways, and so on. There’s more color and variety on one floor in one building in one City on Earth than in a whole Settler town or in a whole Spacer world.”

“I should think everyone would get lost.”

“Of course not. Everyone knows his own neighborhood here, as anywhere else. Even strangers need only follow the signs.”

“I suppose all the walking, that people are forced to do must be very good for them physically,” said Gladia dubiously.

“Socially, too. There are people in the corridors at all times and the convention is that you stop to exchange words with anyone you know and that you greet even those you don’t know. Nor is walking absolutely necessary. There are elevators everywhere for vertical travel. The main corridors are transways and move for horizontal travel. Outside the building, of course, there is a feeder line to the Expressway network. That’s something. You’ll get to ride it.”

“I’ve heard of them. They have strips that you walk across and that drag you along faster and faster—or slower and slower—as you move from one to another. I couldn’t do that. Don’t ask me to.”

“Of course you’ll be able to do it,” said D.G. genially. “I’ll help you. If necessary, I’ll carry you, but all it takes is a little practice. Among the Earthpeople, kindergarten children manage and so do old people with canes. I admit Settlers tend to be clumsy about it. I’m no miracle of grace myself, but I manage and so will you.”

Gladia heaved an enormous sigh. “Well, then, I’ll try if I have to. But I tell you what, D.G., dear. We must have a reasonably quiet room for the night. I want your ‘Drone of the City’ muted.”

“That can be arranged, I’m sure.”

“And I don’t want to have to eat in the Section kitchens.”

D.G. looked doubtful. “We can arrange to have food brought in, but really it would do you good to participate in the social life of Earth. I’ll be with you, after all.”

“Maybe after a while, D.G., but not just at first—and I want a Personal for myself.”

“Oh, no, that’s impossible. There’ll be a washbasin and a toilet bowl in any room they assign us because we have status, but if you intend to do any serious showering or bathing, you’ll have to follow the crowd. There’ll be a woman to introduce you to the procedure and you’ll be assigned a stall or whatever it is they have there. You won’t be embarrassed. Settler women have to be introduced to the use of Personals, every day of the year.—And you may end up enjoying it, Gladia. They tell me that the Women’s Personal is a place of much activity and fun. In the Men’s Personal, on the other hand, not a word is allowed spoken. Very dull.”

“It’s all horrible,” muttered Gladia. “How do you stand the lack of privacy?”

“On a crowded world, needs must,” said D.G. lightly. “What you’ve never had, you never miss.—Do you want any other aphorisms?”

“Not really,” said Gladia.

She looked dejected and D.G. put an arm about her shoulder. “Come, it won’t be as bad as you think. I promise you.”

It was not exactly a nightmare, but Gladia was thankful to her earlier experience on Baleyworld for having given her a preview of what was now a veritable ocean of humanity. The crowds were much larger here in New York than they had been on the Settler world, but on the other hand, she was more insulated from the herd here than she had been on the earlier occasion.

The government officials were clearly anxious to be seen with her. There was a wordless, polite struggle for a position near enough to her to be seen with her on hypervision. It isolated her, not only from the crowds on the other side of the police lines, but from D.G. and from her two robots. It also subjected her to a kind of polite jostling from people who seemed to have an eye only on the camera.

She listened to what seemed innumerable speeches, all mercifully brief, without really listening. She smiled periodically, both blandly and blindly, casting the vision of her implanted teeth in all directions indiscriminately.