Isaac Asimov - The Robots of Dawn

“Such as yourself, Dr. Fastolfe?”

“Such as myself. In the case of humaniform robots, only myself.”

“Or no one at all,” said Baley, heavily ironic.

“Or no one at all. Precisely,” said Fastolfe, ignoring the irony. “The humaniform robots have brains—and, I might add, bodies—constructed in conscious imitation of the human being. The positronic brains are extraordinarily delicate and they take on some of the fragility of the human brain, naturally. Just as a human being may have a stroke, though some chance event within the brain—and without the intervention of any external effect, so a humaniform brain might, through chance alone the occasional aimless drifting of positrons—go into mental—”

“Can you prove that, Dr. Fastolfe?”

“I can demonstrate it mathematically, but of those who could follow the mathematics, not all would agree that the reasoning was valid. It involves certain suppositions of my own that do not fit into the accepted modes of thinking in robotics.”

“And how likely is spontaneous mental freeze-out?”

“Given a large number of humaniform robots, say a hundred thousand, there is an even chance that one of them might undergo spontaneous mental freeze-out in an average Auroran lifetime. And yet it could happen much sooner, as it did to Jander, although then the odds would be very greatly against it.”

“But look here, Dr. Fastolfe, even if you were to prove conclusively that a spontaneous mental freeze-out could take place in robots generally, that would not be the same as proving that such a thing happened to Jander in particular at this particular time.”

“No,” admitted Fastolfe, “you are quite right.”

“You, the greatest expert in robotics, cannot prove it in the specific case of Jander.”

“Again, you are quite right.”

“Then what do you expect me to be able to do, when I know I nothing of robotics.”

“There is no need to prove anything. It would surely be sufficient to present an ingenious suggestion that would make spontaneous mental freeze-out plausible to the general public.”

“Such as—”

“I don’t know.”

Baley said harshly. “Are you sure you don’t know, Dr. Fastolfe?”

“What do you mean? I have just said I don’t know.”

“Let me point out something. I assume that Aurorans, generally, know that I have come to the planet for the purpose of tackling this problem. It would be difficult to manage to get me here secretly, considering that I am an Earthman and this is Aurora.”

“Yes, certainly, and I made no attempt to do that. I consulted the Chairman of the Legislature and persuaded him to grant me permission to bring you here. It is how I’ve managed to win a stay in judgment. You are to be given a chance to solve the mystery before I go on trial. I doubt that they’ll give me a very long stay.”

“I repeat, then—Aurorans, in general, know I’m here and I imagine they know precisely why I am here—that I am supposed to solve the puzzle of the death of Jander.”

“Of course. What other reason could there be?”

“And from the time I boarded the ship that brought me here, you have kept me under close and constant guard because of the danger that your enemies might try to eliminate me judging me to be some sort of wonderman who just might solve the puzzle in such a way as to place you on the winning side, even though all the odds are against me.”

“I fear that as a possibility, yes.”

“And suppose someone who does not want to see the puzzle solved and you, Dr. Fastolfe, exonerated should actually succeed in killing me. Might that not swing sentiment in your favor? Might not people reason that your enemies felt you were, in actual fact, innocent or they would not fear the investigation so much that they would want to kill me?”

“Rather complicated reasoning, Mr. Baley. I suppose that, properly exploited your death might be used to such a purpose, but it’s not going happen. You are being protected and you will not be killed.”

“But why protect me, Dr. Fastolfe? Why not let them kill me and use my death as a way of winning?”

“Because I would rather you remained alive and succeeded in actually demonstrating my innocence.”

Baley said, “But surely you know that I can’t demonstrate your innocence.”

“Perhaps you can. You have every incentive. The welfare of Earth hangs on your doing so and, as you have told me, your own career.”

“What good is incentive? If you ordered me to fly by flapping my arms and told me further that if I failed, I would be promptly killed by slow torture and that Earth would be blown up and all its population destroyed, I would have enormous incentive to flap my wings and fly—and yet still be unable to do so.”

Fastolfe said uneasily, “I know, the chances are small.”

“You know they are nonexistent,” said Baley violently, “and that only my death can save you.”

“Then I will not be saved, for I am seeing to it that my enemies cannot reach you.”

“But you can reach me.”

“What?”

“I have the thought in my head, Dr. Fastolfe, that you yourself might kill me in such a way as to make it appear that your enemies have done the deed. You would then use my death against them—and that that is why you have brought me to Aurora.”

For a moment, Fastolfe looked at Baley with a kind of mild surprise and then, in an excess of passion both sudden and extreme, his face reddened and twisted into a snarl. Sweeping up the spicer from the table, he raised it high and brought his arm down to hurl it at Baley.

And Baley, caught utterly by surprise, barely managed to cringe back against his chair.

If Fastolfe had acted quickly, Daneel had reacted far more quickly still.

To Baley, who had all but forgotten Daneel’s existence, there seemed a vague rush, a confused sound, and then Daneel was standing to one side of Fastolfe holding the spicer, and saying, “I trust, Dr. Fastolfe, that I did not in any way hurt you.”

Baley noted, in a dazed sort of way, that Giskard was not far from Fastolfe on the other side and that every one of the four robots at the far wall had advanced almost to the dining room table.

Panting slightly, Fastolfe, his hair quite disheveled, said, “No, Daneel. You did very well, indeed.” He raised his voice. “You all did well, but remember, you must allow nothing to slow you down, even my own involvement.”

He laughed softly and took his seat once more, straightening his hair with his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “to have startled you so, Mr. Baley, but I felt, the demonstration might be—more convincing than any word’s of mine would have been.”

Baley, whose moment of cringing had been purely a matter of reflex, loosened his collar and said, with a touch of hoarseness, “I’m afraid I expected words, but I agree the demonstration was convincing. I’m glad that Daneel was close enough to disarm you.”

“Any one of them was close enough to disarm me, but Daneel was the closest and got to me first. He got to me quickly enough to be gentle about it. Had he been farther away, he might have had to wrench my arm or even knock me out.”

“Would he have gone that far?”

“Mr. Baley,” said Fastolfe. “I have given instructions for your protection and I know how to give instructions. They would not have hesitated to save you, even if the alternative was harm to me. They would, of course, have labored to inflict minimum harm, as Daneel did. All he harmed was my dignity and the neatness of my hair. And my fingers tingle a bit.” Fastolfe flexed them ruefully.

Baley drew a deep breath, trying to recover from that short period of confusion. He said, “Would not Daneel have protected me even without your specific instruction?”