Isaac Asimov - The Robots of Dawn

“I’m going to have the Institute head—”

“What is his name, by the way?”

“Kelden Amadiro. I’m going to ask him to put it up to the Legislature—and he’s in the Legislature, you know—he’s one of the leaders of the Globalist party. So I think you had better make it plain to Gladia that I am completely innocent.”

“I would like to, Mr. Gremionis, because I suspect that you are innocent, but how can I change suspicion to certainty, unless you will allow me to ask you some questions?”

Gremionis hesitated. Then, with an air of defiance, he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his neck, the picture of a man utterly failing to appear at ease. He said, “Ask away. I have nothing to hide. And after you’re done, you’ll have to call Gladia, right on that trimensional transmitter behind you and say your piece—or you will be in more trouble than you can imagine.”

“I understand. But first—How long have you known Dr. Vasilia Fastolfe, Mr. Gremionis? Or Dr. Vasilia Aliena, if you know her by that name?”

Gremionis hesitated, then said in a tense voice, “Why do you ask that? What does that have to do with it?”

Baley sighed and his dour face seemed to sadden further.

“I remind you, Mr. Gremionis, that you have nothing to hide and that you want to convince me of your innocence, so that I can convince Gladia of the same. Just tell me how long you have known her. If you have not known her, just say so—but before you do, it is only fair to tell you that Dr. Vasilia has stated that you knew her well—well enough, at least, to offer yourself to her.”

Gremionis looked chagrined. He said in a shaky voice, “I don’t know why people have to make a big thing out of it. An offer is a perfectly natural social interaction that concerns no one else.—Of course, you’re an Earthman, so you’d make a fuss about it.”

“I understand she didn’t accept your offer.”

Gremionis brought—his hands down upon his lap, fists clenched. “Accepting or rejecting is entirely up to her. There’ve been people who’ve offered themselves to me and whom I’ve rejected. It’s no large matter.

“Well, then. How long have you known her?”

“For some years. About fifteen.”

“Did you know her when she was still living with Dr. Fastolfe?”

“I was just a boy then,” he said, flushing.

“How did you get to know her?”

“When I finished my training as a personnel artist, I was called in to design a wardrobe for her. It gave her pleasure and after that she used my services—in that respect—exclusively.”

“Was it on her recommendation, then, that you received your present position as—might we say—official personnel artist for the members of the Robotics Institute?”

“She recognized my qualifications. I was tested, along with others, and won the position on my merits.”

“But she did recommend you?”

Briefly and with annoyance, Gremionis said, “Yes.”

“And you felt the only decent return you could make was to offer yourself to her.”

Gremionis grimaced and drew his tongue across his lips, as though tasting something unpleasant. “That is disgusting! I suppose an Earthman would think in such a way offer meant only that it pleased me to do so.”

“Because she is attractive and has a warm personality?” Gremionis hesitated.

“Well, I wouldn’t say she has a warm personality,” he said cautiously, “but certainly she’s attractive.”

“I’ve been told that you—offer yourself to everybody—without distinction.

“That is a lie.”

“What is a lie? That you offer yourself to everybody or that I have been told so?”

“That I offer myself to everybody. Who said that?”

“I don’t know that it would serve any purpose to answer that question. Would you expect me to quote you as a source of embarrassing information? Would you speak freely to me if you thought I would?”

“Well, whoever said it is a liar.”

“Perhaps it was merely dramatic exaggeration. Had you offered yourself to others before you offered yourself to Dr. Vasilia?”

Gremionis looked away. “Once or twice. Never seriously.”

“But Dr. Vasilia was someone you were serious about?”

“Well—”

“It is my understanding you offered yourself to her repeatedly, which is quite against Auroran custom.”

“Oh, Auroran custom—” Gremionis began furiously. Then he pressed his lips together firmly and his forehead furrowed. “See here, Mr. Baley, can I speak to you confidentially?”

“Yes. All my questions are intended to satisfy myself that you had nothing to do with Jander’s death. Once I am satisfied of that, you may be sure I’ll keep your remarks in confidence.”

“Very well, then. It’s nothing wrong—it’s nothing I’m ashamed of, you understand. It’s just that I have a strong sense of privacy and I have a right to that if I wish, don’t I?”

“Absolutely,” said Baley consolingly.

“You see, I feel that social sex is best when there is a profound love and affection between partners.”

“I imagine that’s very true.”

“And then there’s no need for others, wouldn’t you say?”

“It sounds—plausible.”

“I’ve always dreamed of finding the perfect partner and never seeking anyone else. They call it monogamy. It doesn’t exist on Aurora, but on some worlds it does—and they have it on Earth don’t they, Mr. Baley?”

“In theory, Mr. Gremionis.”

“It’s what I want. I’ve looked for it for years. When I experimented with sex sometimes, I could tell something was missing. Then I met Dr. Vasilia and she told me—well, people get confidential with their personnel artists because it’s very personal work and this is the really confidential part—”

“Well, go on.”

Gremionis licked his lips. “If what I say now gets out, I’m ruined. She’ll do her best to see to it that I get no further commissions. Are you sure this has something to do with the case?”

“I assure you with as much force as I can, Mr. Gremionis, that this can be totally important.”

“Well, then”—Gremionis did not look quite convinced—“the fact is, that I gathered from what Dr. Vasilia told me, in bits and pieces, that she is”—his voice dropped to a whisper—“a virgin.”

“I see,” said Baley quietly (remembering Vasilia’s certainty that her father’s refusal had distorted her life and getting a firmer understanding of her hatred of her father).

“That excited me. It seemed to me I could have her all to myself and I would be the only one that she would ever have. I can’t explain how much that meant to me. It made her look gloriously beautiful in my eyes and I just wanted her so much.”

“So you offered yourself to her?”

“Yes.”

“Repeatedly. You weren’t discouraged by her refusals?”

“It just reinforced her virginity, so to speak and made me more eager. It was more exciting that it wasn’t easy. I can’t explain and I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Actually, Mr. Gremionis, I do understand.—But there came a time when you stopped offering yourself to Dr. Vasilia?”

“Well, yes.”

“And began offering yourself to Gladia.”

“Well, yes.”

“Repeatedly?”

“Well, yes.”

“Why? Why the change?”

Gremionis said, “Dr. Vasilia finally made it clear that there was no chance and then Gladia came along and she looked like Dr. Vasilia and—and—that was it.”

Baley said, “But Gladia is no virgin. She was married on Solaria and she experimented rather widely on Aurora, I am told.”

“I knew about that, but she—stopped. You see, she’s a Solarian by birth, not an Auroran, and she didn’t quite understand Auroran customs. But she stopped because she doesn’t like, what she calls ‘promiscuity’.”