Isaac Asimov - The Naked Sun

“Just water? Nothing else?”

“Jutht water, mathter.”

“Where did you get it?”

“From the rethervoir tap, mathter.”

“Had it been standing in the kitchen before you brought it in?”

“The mathter preferred it not too cold, mathter. It wath a thtanding order that it be poured an hour before mealth.”

How convenient, thought Baley, for anyone who knew that fact. He said, “Have one of the robots connect me with the doctor viewing your master as soon as he is available. And while that is being

done, I want another one to explain how the reservoir tap works. I want to know about the water supply here.”

The doctor was available with little delay. He was the oldest Spacer Baley had ever seen, which meant, Baley thought, that he might be over three hundred years old. The veins stood out on his hands and his close-cropped hair was pure white. He had a habit of tapping his ridged front teeth with a fingernail, making a little clicking noise that Baley found annoying. His name was Altim Thool.

The doctor said, “Fortunately, he threw up a good deal of the dose. Still, he may not survive. It is a tragic event.” He sighed heavily.

“What was the poison, Doctor?” asked Baley.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” (Click-click-click.)

Baley said, “What? Then how are you treating him?”

“Direct stimulation of the neuromuscular system to prevent paralysis, but except for that I am letting nature take its course.” His face, with its faintly yellow skin, like well-worn leather of superior quality, wore a pleading expression. “We have very little experience with this sort of thing. I don’t recall another case in over two centuries of practice.”

Baley stared at the other with contempt. “You know there are such things as poisons, don’t you?”

“Oh yes.” (Click-click.) “Common knowledge.”

“You have book-film references where you can gain some knowledge.”

“It would take days. There are numerous mineral poisons. We make use of insecticides in our society, and it is not impossible to obtain bacterial toxins. Even with descriptions in the films it would take a long time to gather the equipment and develop the techniques to test for them.”

“If no one on Solaria knows,” said Baley grimly, “I’d suggest you get in touch with one of the other worlds and find out. Meanwhile, you had better test the reservoir tap in Gruer’s mansion for poison. Get there in person, if you have to, and do it.”

Baley was prodding a venerable Spacer roughly, ordering him about like a robot and was quite unconscious of the incongruity of it. Nor did the Spacer make any protest.

Dr. Thool said doubtfully, “How could the reservoir tap be poisoned? I’m sure it couldn’t be.”

“Probably not,” agreed Baley, “but test it anyway to make sure.” The reservoir tap was a dim possibility indeed. The robot’s explanation had shown it to be a typical piece of Solarian self-care. Water might enter it from whatever source and be tailored to suit. Microorganisms were removed and non-living organic matter eliminated. The proper amount of aeration was introduced, as were various ions in just those trace amounts best suited to the body’s needs. It was very unlikely that any poison could survive one or another of the control devices.

Still, if the safety of the reservoir were directly established, then the time element would be clear. There would be the matter of the hour before the meal, when the pitcher of water (exposed to air, thought Baley sourly) was allowed to warm slowly, thanks to Gruer’s idiosyncrasy.

But Dr. Thool, frowning, was saying, “But how would I test the reservoir tap?”

“Jehoshaphat! Take an animal with you. Inject some of the water you take out of the tap into its veins, or have it drink some. Use your head, man. And do the same for what’s left in the pitcher, and if that’s poisoned, as it must be, run some of the tests the reference films describe. Find some simple ones. Do something.”

“Wait, wait. What pitcher?”

“The pitcher in which the water was standing. The pitcher from which the robot poured the poisoned drink.”

“Well, dear me—I presume it has been cleaned up. The household retinue would surely not leave it standing about.”

Baley groaned. Of course not. It was impossible to retain evidence with eager robots forever destroying it in the name of household duty. He should have ordered it preserved, but of course, this society was not his own and he never reacted properly to it.

Jehoshaphat!

Word eventually came through that the Gruer estate was clear; no sign of any unauthorized human present anywhere.

Daneel said, “That rather intensifies the puzzle, Partner Elijah, since it seems to leave no one in the role of poisoner.”

Baley, absorbed in thought, scarcely heard. He said, “What?… Not at all. Not at all. It clarifies the matter.” He did not explain,

knowing quite well that Daneel would be incapable of understanding or believing what Baley was certain was the truth.

Nor did Daneel ask for an explanation. Such an invasion of a human’s thoughts would have been most unrobotic.

Baley prowled back and forth restlessly, dreading the approach of the sleep period, when his fears of the open would rise and his longing for Earth increase. He felt an almost feverish desire to keep things happening.

He said to Daneel, “I might as well see Mrs. Delmarre again. Have the robot make contact.”

They walked to the viewing room and Baley watched a robot work with deft metal fingers. He watched through a haze of obscuring thought that vanished in startled astonishment when a table, elaborately spread for dinner, suddenly filled half the room.

Gladia’s voice said, “Hello.” A moment later she stepped into view and sat down. “Don’t look surprised, Elijah. It’s just dinnertime. And I’m very carefully dressed. See?”

She was. The dominant color of her dress was a light blue and it shimmered down the length of her limbs to wrists and ankles. A yellow ruff clung about her neck and shoulders, a little lighter than her hair, which was now held in disciplined waves.

Baley said, “I did not mean to interrupt your meal.”

“I haven’t begun yet. Why don’t you join me?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Join you?”

She laughed. “You Earthmen are so funny. I don’t mean join me in personal presence. How could you do that? I mean, go to your own dining room and then you and the other one can dine with me.”

“But if I leave—”

“Your viewing technician can maintain contact.”

Daneel nodded gravely at that, and with some uncertainty Baley turned and walked toward the door. Gladia, together with her table, its setting, and its ornaments moved with him.

Gladia smiled encouragingly. “See? Your viewing technician is keeping us in contact.”

Baley and Daneel traveled up a moving ramp that Baley did not recall having traversed before. Apparently there were numerous possible routes between any two rooms in this impossible mansion and he knew only few of them. Daneel, of course, knew them all.

And, moving through walls, sometimes a bit below floor level, sometimes a bit above, there was always Gladia and her dinner table.

Baley stopped and muttered, “This takes getting used to.”

Gladia said at once, “Does it make you dizzy?”

“A little.”

“Then I tell you what. Why don’t you have your technicians freeze me right here. Then when you’re in your dining room and all set, he can join us up.”

Daneel said, “I will order that done, Partner Elijah.”

Their own dinner table was set when they arrived, the plates steaming with a dark brown soup in which diced meat was bobbing, and in the center a large roast fowl was ready for the carving. Daneel spoke briefly to the serving robot and, with smooth efficiency, the two places that had been set were drawn to the same end of the table.