Asimov's Future History Volume 4 (74 page)

“Did you ask Gladia if she made use of him, Mr. Baley?”

“That has nothing to do with my question. Do
you
know? Did you witness any overt sexual actions between them? Did any of your robots inform you of such? Did she herself tell you?”

“The answer to all those questions, Mr. Baley, is no. If I stop to think about it, there is nothing particularly unusual about the use of robots for sexual purposes by either men or women. Ordinary robots are not particularly adapted to it, but human beings are ingenious in this respect. As for Jander, he is adapted to it because he is as humaniform as we could make him–”

“So that he might take part in sex.”

“No, that was never in our minds. It was the abstract problem of building a totally humaniform robot that exercised the late Dr. Sarton and myself.”

“But such humaniform robots are ideally designed for sex, are they not?”

“I suppose they are and, now that I allow myself to think of it–and I admit I may have had it hidden in my mind from the start–Gladia might well have used Jander so. If she did, I hope the process gave her pleasure. I would consider my loan to her a good deed, if it had.”

“Could it have been more of a good deed than you counted upon?”

“In what way?”

“What would you say if I told you that Gladia and Jander were wife and husband?”

Fastolfe’s hand, still holding the ornament, closed convulsively upon it, held it tightly for a moment, then let it drop. “What? That’s ridiculous. It is legally impossible. There is no question of children, so there can’t conceivably be an application for any. Without the intention of such an application, there can be no marriage.”

“This is not a matter of legality, Dr. Fastolfe. Gladia is a Solarian, remember, and doesn’t have the Auroran outlook. It is a matter of emotion. Gladia herself told me that she considered Jander to have been her husband. I think she considers herself now his widow and that she has had another sexual trauma–and a very severe one. If, in any way, you knowingly contributed to this event–”

“By all the stars,” said Fastolfe with unwonted emotion, “I didn’t. Whatever else was in my mind, I never imagined that Gladia could fantasize
marriage
to a robot, however humaniform he might be. No Auroran could have imagined that.”

Baley nodded and raised his hand. “I believe you. I don’t think you are actor enough to be drowning me in a faked sincerity. But I had to know. It was, after all, just possible that–”

“No, it was not. Possible that I foresaw this situation? That I deliberately created this abominable widowhood, for some reason? Never. It was not conceivable, so I did not conceive it. Mr. Baley, whatever I meant in placing Jander in her establishment, I meant well. I did not mean
this.
Meaning well is a poor defense, I know, but it is all that I have to offer.”

“Dr. Fastolfe, let us refer to that no more,” said Baley. “What
I
have now to offer is a possible solution to the mystery.”

Fastolfe breathed deeply and sat back in his chair. “You hinted as much when you returned from Gladia’s.” He looked at Baley with a hint of savagery in his eyes. “Could you not have told me this ‘key’ you have at the start? Need we have gone through all–this?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Fastolfe. The key makes no sense without all–this.”

“Well, then. Get on with it.”

“I will. Jander was in a position that you, the greatest robotics theoretician in all the world, did not foresee, by your own admission. He was pleasing Gladia so well that she was deeply in love with him and considered him her husband. What if it turns out that, in pleasing her, he was also displeasing her?”

“I’m not sure as to your meaning.”

“Well, see here, Dr. Fastolfe. She was rather secretive about the matter. I gather that on Aurora sexual matters are not something one hides at all costs.”

“We don’t broadcast it over the hyperwave,” said Fastolfe dryly, “but we don’t make a greater secret of it than we do of any other strictly personal matter. We generally know who’s been whose latest partner and, if one is dealing with friends, we often get an idea of how good, or how enthusiastic, or how much the reverse one or the other partner–or both–might be. It’s a matter of small talk on occasion.”

“Yes, but you knew nothing of Gladia’s connection with Jander.”

“I suspected–”

“Not the same thing. She told you nothing. You saw nothing. Nor could any robots report anything. She kept it secret even from you, her best friend on Aurora. Clearly, her robots were given careful instructions never to discuss Jander and Jander himself must have been thoroughly instructed to give nothing away.”

“I suppose that’s a fair conclusion.”

“Why should she do that, Dr. Fastolfe?”

“A Solarian sense of privacy about sex?”

“Isn’t that the same as saying she was ashamed of it?”

“She had no cause to be, although the matter of considering Jander a husband would have made her a laughingstock.”

“She might have concealed that portion very easily without concealing everything. Suppose, in her Solarian way, she was ashamed.”

“Well, then?”

“No one enjoys being ashamed–and she might have blamed Jander for it, in the rather unreasonable way people have of seeking to attribute to others the blame for unpleasantness that is clearly their own fault.”

“Yes?”

“There might have been times when Gladia, who has a short-~fused temper, might have burst into tears, let us say, and upbraided Jander for being the source of her shame and her misery. It might not have lasted long and she might have shifted quickly to apologies and caresses, but would not Jander have clearly gotten the idea that he was actually the source of her shame and her misery?”

“Perhaps.”

“And might this not have meant to Jander that if he continued the relationship, he would make her miserable, and that if he ended the relationship, he would make her miserable. Whatever he did, he would be breaking the First Law and, unable to act in any way without such a violation, he could only find refuge in not acting at all–and so went into mental freeze-out.–Do you remember the story you told me earlier today of the legendary mind-reading robot who was driven into stasis by that robotics pioneer?”

“By Susan Calvin, yes. I see! You model your scenario on that old legend. Very ingenious, Mr. Baley, but it won’t work.”

“Why not? When you said only you could bring about a mental freeze-out in Jander, you did not have the faintest idea that he was involved so deeply in so unexpected a situation. It runs exactly parallel to the Susan Calvin situation.”

“Let’s suppose that the story about Susan Calvin and the mind-reading robot is not merely a totally fictitious legend. Let’s take it seriously. There would still be no parallel between that story and the Jander situation. In the case of Susan Calvin, we would be dealing with an incredibly primitive robot, one that today would not even achieve the status of a toy. It could deal only qualitatively with such matters: A creates misery; not-A creates misery; therefore mental freeze-out.”

Baley said, “And Jander?”

“Any modern robot–any robot of the last century–would weigh such matters quantitatively. Which of the two situations, A or not-A, would create the
most
misery? The robot would come to a rapid decision and opt for minimum misery. The chance that he would judge the two mutually exclusive alternatives to produce precisely equal quantities of misery is small and, even if that should turn out to be the case, the modern robot is supplied with a randomization factor. If A and not-A are precisely equal misery-producers according to his judgment, he chooses one or the other in a completely unpredictable way and then follows that unquestioningly. He does
not
go into mental freeze-out.”

“Are you saying it is impossible for Jander to go into mental freeze-out? You have been saying
you
could have produced it.”

“In the case of the humaniform positronic brain, there is a way of sidetracking the randomization factor that depends entirely on the way in which that brain is constructed. Even if you know the basic theory, it is a very difficult and long-sustained process to so lead the robot down the garden path, so to speak, by a skillful succession of questions and orders as to finally induce the mental freeze-out. It is unthinkable that it be done by accident and the mere existence of all apparent contradiction as that produced by simultaneous love and shame could not do the trick without the most careful quantitative adjustment under the most unusual conditions, which leaves us, as I keep saying, with indeterministic chance as the only possible way in which it happened.”

“But your enemies will insist that your own guilt is the more likely.–Could we not, in our turn, insist that Jander was brought to mental freeze-out by the conflict brought on by Gladia’s love and shame? Would this not sound plausible? And would it not win public opinion to your side?”

Fastolfe frowned. “Mr. Baley, you are too eager. Think about it seriously. If we were to try to get out of our dilemma in this rather dishonest fashion, what would be the consequence? I say nothing of the shame and misery it would bring to Gladia, who would suffer not only the loss of Jander but the feeling that she herself had brought about that loss if, in fact, she had really felt and had somehow revealed her shame. I would not want to do that, but let us put that to one side, if we can. Consider, instead, that my enemies would say that I had loaned her Jander precisely to bring about what had happened. I would have done it, they would say, in order to develop a method for mental freeze-out in humaniform robots while escaping all apparent responsibility myself. We would be worse off than we are now, for I would not only be accused of being an underhanded intriguer, as I am now, but, in addition, of having behaved monstrously toward an unsuspecting woman whom I had pretended to befriend, something I have so far been spared.”

Baley was staggered. He felt his jaw drop and his voice degenerate to a stutter. “Surely they would not–”

“But they would. You yourself were at least half-inclined to think so not very many minutes ago.”

“Merely as a remote–”

“My enemies would not find it remote and they would not publicize it as remote.”

Baley knew he had reddened. He felt the wave of heat and found he could not look Fastolfe in the face. He cleared his throat and said, “You are right. I jumped for a way out without thinking and I can only ask your pardon. I am deeply ashamed.

–There’s no way out, I suppose, but the truth–if we can find it.”

Fastolfe said, “Don’t despair. You have already uncovered events in connection with Jander that I never dreamed of. You may uncover more and, eventually, what seems altogether a mystery to us now may unfold and become plain. What do you plan to do next?”

But Baley could think of nothing through the shame of his fiasco. He said, “I don’t really know.”

“Well, then, it was unfair of me to ask. You have had a long day arid not an easy one. It is not surprising that your brain is a bit sluggish now. Why not rest, view a film, go to sleep? You will be better off in the morning.”

Baley nodded and mumbled, “Perhaps you’re right.”

But, at the moment, he didn’t think he’d be any better off in the morning at all.

30.

T
HE
BEDROOM
WAS
cold, both in temperature and ambience. Baley shivered slightly. So low a temperature within a room gave it the unpleasant feeling of being Outside. The walls were faintly off-white and (unusual for Fastolfe’s establishment) were not decorated. The floor seemed to the sight to be of smooth ivory, but to the bare feet it felt carpeted. The bed was white and the smooth blanket was cold to the touch.

He sat down at the edge of the mattress and found it yielded very slightly to the pressure of his weight.

He said to Daneel, who had entered with him, “Daneel, does it disturb you when a human being tells a lie?”

“I am aware that human beings lie on occasion, Partner Elijah. Sometimes, a lie might be useful or even mandatory. My feeling about a lie depends upon the liar, the occasion, and the reason.”

“Can you always tell when a human being lies?”

“No, Partner Elijah.”

“Does it seem to you that Dr. Fastolfe often lies?”

“It has never seemed to me that Dr. Fastolfe has told a lie.”

“Even in connection with Jander’s death?”

“As far as I can tell, he tells the truth in every respect.”

“Perhaps he has instructed you to say that–were Ito ask?”

“He has not, Partner Elijah.”

“But perhaps he instructed you to say that, too–”

He paused. Again–of what use was it to cross-examine a robot? And in this particular case, he was inviting infinite regression.

He was suddenly aware that the mattress had been yielding slowly under him until it now half-enfolded his hips. He rose suddenly and said, “Is there any way of warming the room, Daneel?”

“It will feel warmer when you are under the cover with the light out, Partner Elijah.”

“Ah.” He looked about suspiciously. “Would you put the light out, Daneel, and remain in the room when you have done so?”

The light went out almost at once and Baley realized that his supposition that this room, at least, was undecorated was totally wrong. As soon as it was dark, he felt he was Outside. There was the soft sound of wind in trees and the small, sleepy mutters of distant life-forms. There was also the illusion of stars overhead, with an occasional drifting cloud that was just barely visible.

“Put the light back on, Daneel!”

The room flooded with light.

“Daneel,” said Baley. “I don’t want any of that. I want no stars, no clouds, no sounds, no trees, no wind–no scents, either. I want darkness–featureless darkness. Could you arrange that?”

“Certainly, Partner Elijah.”

“Then do so. And show me how I may myself put out the light when I am ready to sleep.”

“I am here to protect you, Partner Elijah.”

Baley said grumpily, “You can do that, I am sure, from just the other side of the door. Giskard, I imagine, will be just outside the windows, if, indeed, there are windows beyond the draperies.”