Isaac Asimov - The Robots of Dawn

“Who is Andrew Martin?”

“Was, not is,” said Fastolfe. “You have never heard of him?”

“Never!”

“How odd! These ancient legends of ours all have Earth as their setting, yet on Earth they are not known.—Andrew Martin was a robot who, gradually, step by step, was supposed to have become humaniform. To be sure, there have been humaniform robots before Daneel, but they were all simple toys, little—more than automatons. Nevertheless, amazing stories are told of the abilities of Andrew Martin—a sure sign of the legendary nature of the tale. There was a woman who was part of the legends who is usually known as Little Miss. The relationship is too complicated to describe now, but I suppose that every little girl on Aurora has daydreamed of being Little Miss and of having Andrew Martin as a robot. Vasilia did and Giskard was her Andrew Martin.”

“Well, then?”

“I asked her robot to tell her that you would be accompanied by Giskard. She hasn’t seen him in years and I thought that might lure her into agreeing to see you.”

“But it didn’t, I presume.”

“It didn’t.”

“Then we must think of something else. There must be some way of inducing her to see me.”

Fastolfe said, “Perhaps you will think of one. In a few minutes, you will view her on trimensic and you will have. Five minutes to convince her that she ought to see you personally.”

“Five minutes! What can I do in five minutes?”

“I don’t know. It is better, after all, than nothing.”

Fifteen minutes later, Baley stood before the trimensional viewing screen, ready to meet Vasilia Fastolfe.

Dr. Fastolfe had left, saying, with a wry smile, that his presence would certainly make his daughter less amenable to persuasion. Nor was Daneel present. Only Giskard remained behind to keep Baley company.

Giskard said, “Dr. Vasilia’s trimensic channel is open for reception. Are you ready, sir?”

“As ready as I can be,” said Baley grimly. He had refused to sit, feeling he might be more imposing if he were standing. (How imposing could an Earthman be?)

The screen grew bright as the rest of the room dimmed and a woman appeared in rather uncertain focus, at first. She was standing facing him, her right hand resting, on a laboratory bench laden with sets of diagrams. (No doubt she planned to be imposing, too.)

As the focus sharpened, the edges of the screen seemed to melt away and the image of Vasilia (if it were she) deepened and became three-dimensional. She was standing in the room with every sign of solid reality, except that the decor of the room she was in, did not match the room Baley was in and the break was a sharp one.

She was wearing a dark brown skirt that divided into loose trouser legs that were semitransparent, so that her legs, from midthigh down, were shadowily visible. Her blouse was tight and sleeveless, so that her arms were bare to the shoulder. Her neckline was low and her hair, quite blond, was in tight curls.

She had none of her father’s plainness and certainly not his large ears. Baley could only assume she had had a beautiful mother and was fortunate in the allotment of genes.

She was short and Baley could see a remark able resemblance to Gladia in her facial features, although her expression was far colder and seemed to bear the mark of a dominating personality.

She said sharply, “Are you the Earthman come to solve my father’s problems?”

“Yes, Dr. Fastolfe,” said Baley in an equally clipped manner.

“You may call me Dr. Vasilia. I do not wish the confusion of being mistaken for my father.”

“Dr. Vasilia, I must have a chance to deal with you, face-to-face, for a reasonably extended period.”

“No doubt you feel that. You are, of course, an Earthman and a certain source of infection.”

“I have been medically treated and I am quite safe to be with. Your father has been constantly with me for over a day.”

“My father pretends to be an idealist and must do foolish things at times to support the pretense. I will not imitate him.”

“I take it you do not wish him harm. You will bring him harm if you refuse to see me.”

“You are wasting time. I will not see you, except in this manner, and half the period I have allotted is gone. If you wish, we can stop this now if you find it unsatisfactory.”

“Giskard is here, Dr. Vasilia, and would like to urge you to see me.”

Giskard stepped into the field of vision. “Good morning, Little Miss,” he said in a low voice.

For a moment, Vasilia looked embarrassed and, when she spoke, it was in a somewhat softer tone. “I am glad to view you, Giskard, and will see you any time you wish, but I will not see this Earthman, even at your urging.”

“In that case,” said Baley, throwing in all his reserves desperately, “I must take the case of Santirix Gremionis to the public without the benefit of having consulted you.”

Vasilia’s eyes widened and her hand on the table lifted upward and clenched into a fist, “What is this about Gremionis?”

“Only that he is a handsome young man and he knows you well. Am I to deal with these matters without hearing what you have to say?”

“I will tell you right now that—”

“No,” said Baley loudly. “You will tell me nothing unless I see you face-to-face.”

Her mouth twitched. “I will see you, then, but I will not remain with you one moment more than I choose. I warn you.—And bring Giskard.”

The trimensional connection broke off with a snap and Baley felt himself turn dizzy at the sudden change in background that resulted. He made his way to a chair and sat down.

Giskard’s hand was on his elbow, making certain that he reached the chair safely. “Can I help you in any way, sir?” he asked.

“I’m all right,” said Baley. I just need to catch my breath.”

Dr. Fastolfe was standing before him. “My apologies, again, for failure in my duties as a host. I listened on an extension that was equipped to receive and not transmit. I wanted to see my daughter, even if she didn’t see me.”

“I understand,” said Baley, panting slightly. “If manners dictate that what you did requires an apology, then I forgive you.”

“But what is this about Santirix Gremionis? The name is unfamiliar to me.”

Baley looked up at Fastolfe and said, “Dr. Fastolfe, I heard his name from Gladia this morning. I know very little about him, but I took the chance of saying what I did to your daughter anyway. The odds were heavily against me, but the results were what I wanted them to be, nevertheless. As you see, I can make useful deductions, even when I have very little information, so you had better leave me in peace to continue to do so. Please, in the future, cooperate to the full and make no further mention of a Psychic Probe.”

Fastolfe was silent and Baley felt a grim satisfaction at having imposed his will first on the daughter, then on the father.

How long he could continue to do so he did not know.

Baley paused at the door of the airfoil and said firmly, “Giskard, I do not wish the windows opacified. I do not wish to sit in the back. I want to sit in the front seat and observe the Outside. Since I will be sitting between you and Daneel, I should be safe enough, unless the car itself is destroyed. And, in that case, we will all be destroyed and it won’t matter whether I am in front or in back.”

Giskard responded to the force of the statement by retreating into greater respectfulness. “Sir, if you should feel ill—”

“Then you will stop the car and I will climb into the back seat and you can opacify the rear windows. Or you needn’t even stop. I can climb over the front seat while you are moving. The point is, Giskard, that it is important for me to become as acquainted with Aurora as is possible and it is important for me, in any case, to become accustomed to the Outside. I am stating this as an order, Giskard.”