Isaac Asimov: The Robots of Dawn

She said, “Under the circumstances, I excuse your disrespect, Baley. No, R. Daneel has not been killed. He is not the only humaniform robot on Aurora. Another such robot, not R. Daneel, has been killed, if you wish to use the term loosely. To be more precise, its mind has been totally destroyed; it was placed into permanent and irreversible roblock.”

Baley said, “And they say that Dr. Fastolfe did it?”

“His enemies are saying so. The extremists, who wish only Spacers to spread through the Galaxy and who wish Earthpeople to vanish from the Universe, are saying so. If these extremists can maneuver another election within the next few weeks, they will surely gain total control of the government, with incalculable results.”

“Why is this roblock so important politically? I don’t understand.”

“I am not myself certain,” said Demachek. “I do not pretend to understand Auroran politics. I gather that the humaniforms were in some way involved with the extremist plans and that the destruction has infuriated them.” She wrinkled her nose. “I find their politics very confusing and I will only mislead you if I try to interpret it.”

Baley labored to control himself under the Undersecretary’s level stare. He said in a low voice, “Why am I here?”

“Because of Fastolfe. Once before you went out into space in order to solve a murder and succeeded. Fastolfe wants you to try again. You are to go to Aurora and discover who was responsible for the roblock! He feels that to be his only chance of turning back the extremists.”

“I am not a roboticist. I know nothing about Aurora—”

“You knew nothing about Solaria, either, yet you managed. The point is, Baley, we are as eager to find out what really happened as Fastolfe is. We don’t want him destroyed. If he is, Earth will be subject to a kind of hostility from these Spacer extremists that will probably be greater than anything we have yet experienced. We don’t want that to happen”

“I can’t take on this responsibility, ma’am. The task is—”

“Next to impossible. We know that, but we have no choice. Fastolfe insists, and behind him, for the moment, stands the Auroran government. If you refuse to go or if we refuse to let you go, we will have to face the Auroran fury. If you do go and are successful, we’ll be saved and you will be suitably rewarded.”

“And if I go—and fail?”

“We will do our best to see to it that the blame will be yours and not Earth’s.”

“The skins of officialdom will be saved, in other words.”

Demachek said, “A kinder way of putting it is that you will be thrown to the wolves in the hope that Earth will not suffer too badly. One man is not a bad price to pay for our planet.”

“It seems to me that, since I am sure to fail, I might as well not go.”

“You know better than that,” said Demachek softly. “Aurora has asked for you and you cannot refuse.—And why should you want to refuse? You’ve been trying to go to Aurora for two years and you’ve been bitter over your failure to get our permission.”

“I’ve wanted to go in peace to arrange for help in the settlement of other worlds, not to—”

“You might still try to get their help for your dream of settling other worlds, Baley. After all, suppose you do succeed. It’s possible, after all. In that case, Fastolfe will be much beholden to you and he may do far more for you than he ever would have otherwise. And we ourselves will be sufficiently grateful to you to help. Isn’t that worth a risk, even a large one? However small your chances of success are if you got those chances—are zero if you do not go. Think of that, Baley, but please—not too long.”

Baley’s lips tightened and, finally, realizing there was no alternative, he said, “How much time do—I have to—”

And Demachek said calmly, “Come. Haven’t I been explaining that we have no choice—and no time, either? You leave,” she looked at the timeband on her wrist, “in just under six hours.”

The spaceport was at the eastern outskirts of the City in an all-but-deserted Sector that was, strictly speaking, Outside.

This was palliated by the fact that the ticket offices and the waiting rooms were actually in the City and that the approach to the ship itself was by vehicle through a covered path. By tradition, all takeoffs were at night, so that a pall of darkness further deadened the effect of Outside.

The spaceport was not very busy, considering the populous character of Earth. Earthmen very rarely left the planet and the traffic consisted entirely of commercial activity organized by robots and Spacers.

Elijah Baley, waiting for the ship to be ready for boarding, felt already cut off from Earth.

Bentley sat with him and there was a glum silence between the two. Finally, Ben said, “I didn’t think Mom would want to come.”

Baley nodded. “I didn’t think so, either. I remember how she was when I went to Solaria. This is no different.”

“Did you manage to calm her down?”

“I did what I could, Ben. She thinks I’m bound to be in a space crash or that the Spacers will kill me once I’m on Aurora.”

“You got back from Solaria.”

“That just makes her the less eager to risk me a second time. She assumes the luck will run out. However, she’ll manage.—You rally round, Ben. Spend some time with her and, whatever you do, don’t talk about heading out to settle a new planet. That’s what really bothers her, you know. She feels you’ll be leaving her one of these years. She knows she won’t be able to go and so she’ll never see you again.”

“She may not,” said Ben. “That’s the way it might work out.”

“You can face that easily, maybe, but she can’t, so just don’t discuss it while I’m gone. All right?”

“All right.—I think she’s a little upset about Gladia.”

Baley looked up sharply. “Have you been—”

“I haven’t said a word. But she saw that hyperwave thing, too, you know, I and she knows Gladia’s on Aurora.”

“What of it? It’s a big planet. Do you think Gladia Delmarre will be waiting at the spaceport for me?—Jehoshaphat, Ben, doesn’t your mother know that hyperwave axle grease was nine tenths fiction?”

Ben changed the subject with a tangible effort. “It seems funny—you sitting here with no luggage of any kind.”

“I’m sitting here with too much. I’ve got the clothes I’m wearing, don’t I? They’ll get rid of those as soon as I’m on board. Off they go—to be chemically treated, then dumped into space. After that, they’ll give me a totally new wardrobe after I have been personally fumigated and cleaned and polished, inside and out. I’ve been through that once before.”

Again, silence and then Ben said, “You know, Dad—” and stopped suddenly. He tried again. “You know Dad—” and did no better.

Baley looked at him steadily. “What are you trying to say, Ben?”

“Dad, I feel like an awful jackass saying this, but I think I’d better. You’re not the hero type. Even I never thought you were. You’re a nice guy and the best father there could be, but not the hero type.”

Baley grunted.

“Still,” said Ben, “when you stop to think of it, it was you who got Spacetown off the map; it was you who got Aurora on our side; it was you who started this whole project of settling other worlds. Dad, you’ve done more for Earth than everyone in the government put together. So why aren’t you appreciated more?”

Baley said, “Because I’m not the hero type and because this stupid hyperwave drama was foisted on me. It has made an enemy of every man in the Department, it’s unsettled your mother, and it’s given me a reputation I can’t live up to.” The light flashed on his wrist-caller and he stood up. “I’ve got to go now, Ben.”