Isaac Asimov - The Robots of Dawn

Amadiro’s glance fixed itself on Daneel again. “A remarkable job, this humaniform robot,” he said. “It is astonishing how close to his vest Fastolfe has kept things. And it is a shame that Jander was lost. There Fastolfe did the unforgivable.”

“Dr. Fastolfe, sir, denies that he was in any way implicated.”

“Yes, Mr. Baley, of course he would. Does he say that I am implicated? Or is my implication entirely your own idea?”

Baley said deliberately, “I have no such idea. I merely wish to question you on the matter. As for Dr. Fastolfe, he is not a candidate for one of your accusations of slander. He is certain you have had nothing to do with what happened to Jander because he is quite certain, you lack the knowledge and capacity to immobilize a humaniform robot.”

If Baley hoped to stir things up in that manner, he failed.

Amadiro accepted the slur with no loss of good humor and said, “In that he is right, Mr. Baley. Sufficient ability is not to be found in any roboticist—alive or dead—except for Fastolfe himself. Isn’t that what he says, our modest master—of masters?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Then whatever does he say happened to Jander, I wonder?”

“A random event. Purely chance.”

Amadiro laughed. “Has he calculated the probability of such a random event?”

“Yes, Master Roboticist. Yet even an extremely unlikely chance might happen, especially if there were incidents that bettered the odds.”

“Such as what?”

“That is what I am hoping to find out. Since you have already arranged to have me thrown off the planet, do you now intend to forestall any questioning of yourself—or may I continue my investigation until such time as my activity in that respect is legally ended?—Before you answer, Dr. Amadiro, please consider that the investigation has not as yet been legally ended and, in any hearing that may come up, whether tomorrow or later, I will be able to accuse you of refusing to answer my questions if you should insist on now ending this interview. That might influence the Chairman in his decision.”

“It would not, my dear Mr. Baley. Don’t imagine you can in any way interfere with me.—However, you may interview me for as long as you wish. I will cooperate fully with you, if only to enjoy the spectacle of the good Fastolfe trying uselessly to disentangle himself from his unfortunate deed. I am not extraordinarily vindictive, Mr. Baley, but the fact that Jander was Fastolfe’s own creation does not give him the right to destroy it.”

Baley said, “It is not legally established that this is what he has done, so that what you have just said is, at least potentially, slander. Let us put that to one side, therefore, and go on with this interview. I need information. I will ask my questions briefly and directly and, if you answer in the same way, this interview may be completed quickly.”

“No, Mr. Baley. It is not you who will say the conditions for this interview,” said Amadiro. “I take it that one or both of your robots is equipped to record our conversation in full.”

“I believe so.”

“I know so. I have a recording device of my own as well. Don’t think, my good Mr. Baley, that you will lead me through a jungle of short answers to something that will serve Fastolfe’s purpose. I will answer as I choose and make certain I am not misinterpreted. And my own recording will help me make it certain that I am not misinterpreted.” Now, for the first time, there was the suggestion of the wolf behind Amadiro’s attitude of friendliness.

“Very well, then, but if your answers are deliberately longwinded and evasive, that, too, will show up in the recording.”

“Obviously.”

“With that understood, may I have a glass of water, to begin with?”

“Absolutely.—Giskard, will you oblige Mr. Baley?”

Giskard was out of his niche at once. There was the inevitable tinkle of ice at the bar at one end of the room and a tall glass of water was on the desk immediately before Baley.

Baley said, “Thank you, Giskard,” and waited for him to move back into his niche.

He said, “Dr. Amadiro, am I correct in considering you the head of the Robotics Institute?”

“Yes, you are.”

“And its founder?”

“Correct.—You see, I answer briefly.”

“How long has it been in existence?”

“As a concept—decades. I have been gathering like-minded people for at least fifteen years. Permission was obtained from the Legislature twelve years ago. Building began nine years ago and active work began six years ago. In its present completed form, the Institute is two years old and there are long range plans for further expansion, eventually.—There you have a long answer, sir, but presented reasonably concisely.”

“Why did you find it necessary to set up the Institute?”

“Ah, Mr. Baley. Here you surely expect nothing but a long winded answer.”

“As you please, sir.”

At this point, a robot brought in a tray of small sandwiches and still smaller pastries, none of which were familiar to Baley. He tried a sandwich and found it crunchy and not exactly unpleasant but odd enough for him to finish it only with an effort. He washed it down with what was left of his water.

Amadiro watched with a kind of gentle amusement and said, “You must understand, Mr. Baley, that we Aurorans are unusual people. So are Spacers generally, but I speak of Aurorans in particular now. We are descended from Earthpeople something most of us do not willingly think about—but we are self selected.”

“What does that mean, sir?”

“Earthpeople have long lived on an increasingly crowded planet and have drawn together into still more crowded cities that finally became the beehives and anthills you call Cities with a capital ‘C.’ What kind of Earthpeople, then, would leave Earth and go to other worlds that are empty and hostile so that they might build new societies from nothing, societies that they could not enjoy in completed form in their own lifetime—trees that would still be saplings when they died, so to speak.”

“Rather unusual people, I suppose.”

“Quite unusual. Specifically, people who are not so dependent on crowds of their fellows as to lack the ability to face emptiness. People who even prefer emptiness, who would like to work on their own and face problems by themselves, rather than hide in the herd and share the burden so that their own load is virtually nothing. Individualists, Mr. Baley. Individualists!”

“I see that.”

“And our society is founded on that. Every direction in which the Spacer worlds have developed further emphasizes our individuality. We are proudly human on Aurora, rather than being huddled sheep on Earth.—Mind you, Mr. Baley, I use the metaphor not as way of deriding Earth. It is simply a different society which I find unadmirable but which you, I suppose, find comforting and ideal.”

“What has this to do with the founding of the Institute, Dr. Amadiro?”

“Even proud and healthy individualism has its drawbacks. The greatest minds—working singly, even for centuries—cannot progress rapidly if they refuse to communicate their findings. A knotty puzzle may hold up a scientist for a century, when it may be that a colleague has the solution already and is not even aware of the puzzle that it might solve.—The Institute is an attempt, in the narrow field of robotics at least, to introduce a certain community of thought.”

“Is it possible that the particular knotty puzzle you are attacking is that of the construction of a humaniform robot?”

Amadiro’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, that is obvious, isn’t it? It was twenty-six years ago that Fastolfe’s new mathematical system, which he calls ‘intersectional analysis,’ made it possible to design humaniform robots—but he kept the system to himself. Years afterward, when all the difficult technical details were worked out, he and Dr. Sarton applied the theory to the design of Daneel. Then Fastolfe alone completed Jander. But all of those details were kept secret, also.