Isaac Asimov - The Naked Sun

He said in a conversational tone, “You tell Dr. Leebig, or his robot if that is as far as you’ve reached, that I am investigating the murder of a professional associate of his and a good Solarian. You tell him that I cannot wait on his work. You tell him that if I am not viewing him in five minutes, I will be in a plane and at his estate seeing

him in less than an hour. You use that word, seeing, so there’s no mistake.”

He returned to his sandwich.

The five minutes were not quite gone, when Leebig, or at least a Solarian whom Baley presumed to be Leebig, was glaring at him.

Baley glared back. Leebig was a lean man, who held himself rigidly erect. His dark, prominent eyes had a look of intense abstraction about them, compounded now with anger. One of his eyelids drooped slightly.

He said, “Are you the Earthman?”

“Elijah Baley,” said Baley, “Plainclothesman C-7, in charge of the investigation into the murder of Dr. Rikaine Delmarre. What is your name?”

“I’m Dr. Jothan Leebig. Why do you presume to annoy me at my work?”

“It’s easy,” said Baley quietly. “It’s my business.”

“Then take your business elsewhere.”

“I have a few questions to ask first, Doctor. I believe you were a close associate of Dr. Delmarre. Right?”

One of Leebig’s hands clenched suddenly into a fist and he strode hastily toward a mantelpiece on which tiny clockwork contraptions went through complicated periodic motions that caught hypnotically at the eye.

The viewer kept focused on Leebig so that his figure did not depart from central projection as he walked. Rather the room behind him seemed to move backward in little rises and dips as he strode.

Leebig said, “If you are the foreigner whom Gruer threatened to bring in—”

“I am.”

“Then you are here against my advice. Done viewing.”

“Not yet. Don’t break contact.” Baley raised his voice sharply and a finger as well. He pointed it directly at the roboticist, who shrank visibly away from it, full lips spreading into an expression of disgust.

Baley said, “I wasn’t bluffing about seeing you, you know.”

“No Earthman vulgarity, please.”

“A straightforward statement is what it is intended to be. I will see you, if I can’t make you listen any other way. I will grab you by the collar and make you listen.”

Leebig stared back. “You are a filthy animal.”

“Have it your way, but I will do as I say.”

“If you try to invade my estate, I will—I will—”

Baley lifted his eyebrows. “Kill me? Do you often make such threats?”

“I made no threat.”

“Then talk now. In the time you have wasted, a good deal might have been accomplished. You were a close associate of Dr. Delmarre. Right?”

The roboticist’s head lowered. His shoulders moved slightly to a slow, regular breathing. When he looked up, he was in command of himself. He even managed a brief, sapless smile.

“I was.”

“Delmarre was interested in new types of robots, I understand.”

“He was.”

“What kind?”

“Are you a roboticist?”

“No. Explain it for the layman.”

“I doubt that I can.”

“Try! For instance, I think he wanted robots capable of disciplining children. What would that involve?”

Leebig raised his eyebrows briefly and said, “To put it very simply, skipping all the subtle details, it means a strengthening of the Cintegral governing the Sikorovich tandem route response at the W-65 level.”

“Double-talk,” said Baley.

“The truth.”

“It’s double-talk to me. How else can you put it?”

“It means a certain weakening of the First Law.”

“Why so? A child is disciplined for its own future good. Isn’t that the theory?”

“Ah, the future good!” Leebig’s eyes glowed with passion and he seemed to grow less conscious of his listener and correspondingly more talkative. “A simple concept, you think. How many human beings are willing to accept a trifling inconvenience for the sake of a large future good? How long does it take to train a child that what tastes good now means a stomach-ache later, and what tastes bad now will correct the stomach-ache later? Yet you want a robot to be able to understand?

“Pain inflicted by a robot on a child sets up a powerful disruptive

potential in the positronic brain. To counteract that by an antipotential triggered through a realization of future good requires enough paths and bypaths to increase the mass of the positronic brain by 50 per cent, unless other circuits are sacrificed.”

Baley said, “Then you haven’t succeeded in building such a robot.”

“No, nor am I likely to succeed. Nor anyone.”

“Was Dr. Delmarre testing an experimental model of such a robot at the time of his death?”

“Not of such a robot. We were interested in other more practical things also.”

Baley said quietly, “Dr. Leebig, I am going to have to learn a bit more about robotics and I am going to ask you to teach me.”

Leebig shook his head violently, and his drooping eyelid dipped further in a ghastly travesty of a wink. “It should be obvious that a course in robotics takes more than a moment. I lack the time.”

“Nevertheless, you must teach me. The smell of robots is the one thing that pervades everything on Solaria. If it is time we require, then more than ever I must see you. I am an Earthman and I cannot work or think comfortably while viewing.”

It would not have seemed possible to Baley for Leebig to stiffen his stiff carriage further, but he did. He said, “Your phobias as an Earthman don’t concern me. Seeing is impossible.”

“I think you will change your mind when I tell you what I chiefly want to consult you about.”

“It will make no difference. Nothing can.”

“No? Then listen to this. It is my belief that throughout the history of the positronic robot, the First Law of Robotics has been deliberately misquoted.”

Leebig moved spasmodically. “Misquoted? Fool! Madman! Why?”

“To hide the fact,” said Baley with complete composure, “that robots can commit murder.”

Leebig’s mouth widened slowly. Baley took it for a snarl at first and then, with considerable surprise, decided that it was the most unsuccessful attempt at a smile that he had ever seen.

Leebig said, “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because anything, however small, that encourages distrust of robots is harmful. Distrusting robots is a human disease!”

It was as though he were lecturing a small child. It was as though he were saying something gently that he wanted to yell. It was as though he were trying to persuade when what he really wanted was to enforce on penalty of death.

Leebig said, “Do you know the history of robotics?”

“A little.”

“On Earth, you should. Yes. Do you know robots started with a Frankenstein complex against them? They were suspect. Men distrusted and feared robots. Robotics was almost an undercover science as a result. The Three Laws were first built into robots in an effort to overcome distrust and even so Earth would never allow a robotic society to develop. One of the reasons the first pioneers left Earth to colonize the rest of the Galaxy was so that they might establish societies in which robots would be allowed to free men of poverty and toil. Even then, there remained a latent suspicion not far below, ready to pop up at any excuse.”

“Have you yourself had to counter distrust of robots?” asked Baley.

“Many times,” said Leebig grimly.

“Is that why you and other roboticists are willing to distort the facts just a little in order to avoid suspicion as much as possible?”