Isaac Asimov - The Robots of Dawn

“No, Elijah, you won’t talk me into being ashamed. If having a robot as a husband is unusual even on Aurora, that would be because robots like Jander are unusual. The robots we have on Solaria, or on Earth—or on Aurora, except for Jander and Daneel—are not designed to give any but the most primitive sexual satisfaction. They might be used as masturbation devices, perhaps, as a mechanical vibrator might be, but nothing much more. When the new humaniform robot becomes widespread, so will human-robot sex become widespread.”

Baley said, “How did you come to possess Jander in the first place, Gladia? Only two existed—both in Dr. Fastolfe’s establishment. Did he simply give one of them—half of the total—to you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Out of kindness, I suppose. I was lonely, disillusioned, wretched, a stranger in a strange land. He gave me Jander for company and I will never be able to thank him enough for it. It only lasted for half a year, but that half-year may be worth all my life beside.”

“Did Dr. Fastolfe know that Jander was your husband?”

“He never referred to it, so I don’t know.”

“Did you refer to it?”

“No.

“Why not?”

“I saw no need.—And no, it was not because I felt shame.”

“How did it happen?”

“That I saw no need?”

“No. That Jander became your husband.”

Gladia stiffened. She said in a hostile voice, “Why do I have to explain that?”

Baley said, “Gladia, it’s getting late. Don’t fight me every step of the way. Are you distressed that Jander is—is gone?”

“Need you ask?”

“Do you want to find out what happened?”

“Again, need you ask?”

“Then help me. I need all the information I can get if I am to begin—even begin—to make progress in working out an apparently insoluble problem. How did Jander become your husband?”

Gladia sat back in her chair and her eyes were suddenly brimming with tears. She pushed at the plate of crumbs that had once been pastry and said in a choked voice:

“Ordinary robots do not wear clothes, but they are so designed as to give the effect of wearing clothes. I know robots well, having lived on Solaria, and I have a certain amount of artistic talent—”

“I remember your light-forms,” said Baley softly.

Gladia nodded in acknowledgment. “I constructed a few designs for new models that would possess, in my opinion, more style and more interest than some of those in use in Aurora. Some of my paintings, based on those designs, are on the walls here. Others I have in other places in this establishment.

Baley’s eyes moved to the paintings. He had seen them. They were of robots, unmistakably. They were not naturalistic, but seemed elongated and unnaturally curved. He noted now that the distortions were so designed as to stress, quite cleverly, those portions which, now that he looked at them from anew perspective, suggested clothing. Somehow there was an impression of servants’ costumes he had once viewed in a book devoted to Victorian England of medieval times. Did Gladia know of these things or was it a merely chance, if circumstantial, similarity? It was a question of no account, probably, but not something (perhaps) to be forgotten.

When he had first noticed them, he had thought it was Gladia’s way of surrounding herself with robots in imitation of life on Solaria. She hated that life, she said, but that was only a product of her thinking mind—Solaria had been the only home she had really known and that is not easily sloughed off—perhaps not at all. And perhaps that remained a factor in her painting, even if her new occupation gave her a more plausible motive.

She was speaking. “I was successful. Some of the robot manufacturing concerns paid well for my designs and there were numerous cases of existing robots being resurfaced according to my directions. There was a certain satisfaction in all this that, in a small measure, compensated for the emotional emptiness of my life.

“When Jander was given me by Dr. Fastolfe, I had a robot who, of course, wore ordinary clothing. The dear doctor was, indeed, kind enough to give me a number of changes of clothing for Jander.

“None of it was in the least imaginative and it amused me to buy what I considered more appropriate garb. That meant measuring him quite accurately, since I intended to have my designs made to order—and that meant having him remove his clothing in stages.

“He did so—and it was only when he was completely unclothed that I quite realized how close to human he was. Nothing was lacking and those portions which might be expected to be erectile were, indeed, erectile. Indeed, they were under what, in a human, would be called conscious control. Jander could tumesce and detumesce on order. He told me so when I asked him if his penis was functional in that respect. I was curious and he demonstrated.

“You must understand that, although he looked very much like a man, I knew he was a robot. I have a certain hesitation about touching men—you understand—and I have no doubt that played a part in my inability to have satisfactory sex with Aurorans. But this was not a man and I had been with robots all my life. I could touch Jander freely.

“It didn’t take me long to realize that I enjoyed touching him and it didn’t take Jander long to realize that I enjoyed it. He was a finely tuned robot who followed the Three Laws carefully. To have failed to give joy when he could would have been to disappoint. Disappointment could be reckoned as harm and he could not harm a human being. He took infinite care then to give me joy and, because I saw in him the desire to give joy, something I never saw in Auroran men, I was indeed joyful and, eventually, I found out, to the full, I think, what an orgasm is.”

Baley said, “You were, then, completely happy?”

“With Jander? Of course. Completely.”

“You never quarreled?”

“With Jander? How could I? His only aim, his only reason for existence, was to please me.”

“Might that not disturb you? He only pleased you because he had to.”

“What motive would anyone have to do anything but that, for one reason or another, he had to?”

“And you never had the urge to try real—to try Aurorans after you had learned to experience orgasm?”

“It would have been an unsatisfactory substitute. I wanted only Jander.—And do you understand, now, what I have lost?”

Baley’s naturally grave expression lengthened into solemnity. He said, “I understand, Gladia. If I gave you pain earlier, please forgive me, for I did not entirely understand then.”

But she was weeping and he waited, unable to say anything more, unable to think of a reasonable way to console her.

Finally, she shook her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She whispered, “Is there anything more?”

Baley said apologetically, “A few questions on another subject and then I will be through annoying you.” He added cautiously, “For now.”

“What is it?” She seemed very tired.

“Do you know that there are people who seem to think that Dr. Fastolfe was responsible for the killing of Jander?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know, that Dr. Fastolfe himself admits that only he possesses the expertise to kill Jander in the way that he was killed?”

“Yes.—The dear doctor told me so himself.”

“Well, then, Gladia, do you think Dr. Fastolfe killed Jander?”

She looked up at him, suddenly and sharply, and then said angrily, “Of course not. Why should he? Jander was his robot to begin with and he was full of care for him. You don’t know the dear doctor as I do, Elijah. He is a gentle person who would hurt no one and who would never hurt a robot. To suppose he would kill one is to suppose that a rock would fall upward.”