Asimov's Future History Volume 4 (80 page)

“I assume you wouldn’t say this if I were not to take it that Dr. Han Fastolfe behaves in this manner.”

“He certainly does. It is his theoretical analysis of the positronic brain that has made the humaniform robot possible. He has used it to construct–with the help of the late Dr. Sarton–your robot friend Daneel, but he has not published the important details of his theory, nor does he make it available to anyone else. In this way, he–and he alone–holds a stranglehold on the production of humaniform robots.”

Baley furrowed his brow. “And the Robotics Institute is dedicated to cooperation among scientists?”

“Exactly. This Institute is made up of over a hundred topnotch roboticists of different ages, advancements, and skills and we hope to establish branches on other worlds and make it an interstellar association. All of us are dedicated to communicating our separate discoveries or speculations to the common fund–doing voluntarily for the general good what you Earthpeople do perforce because you live such short lives.

“This, however, Dr. Han Fastolfe will not do. I’m sure you think of Dr. Han Fastolfe as a nobly idealistic Auroran patriot, but he will not put his intellectual property–as he thinks of it–into the common fund and therefore he does not want us. And because he assumes a personal property right upon scientific discoveries, we do not want him.–You no longer find the mutual distaste a mystery, I take it.”

Baley nodded his head, then said, “You think this will work–this voluntary giving up of personal glory?”

“It must,” said Vasilia grimly.

“And has the Institute, through community endeavor, duplicated Dr. Fastolfe’s individual work and rediscovered the theory of the humaniform positronic brain?”

“We will, in time. It is inevitable.”

“And you are making no attempt to shorten the time it will take by persuading Dr. Fastolfe to yield the secret?”

“I think we are on the way to persuading him.”

“Through the working of the Jander scandal?”

“I don’t think you really have to ask that question.–Well, have I told you what you wanted to know, Earthman?”

Baley said, “You have told me some things I didn’t know.”

“Then it is time for you to tell me about Gremionis. Why have you brought up the name of this barber in connection with me?”

“Barber?”

“He considers himself a hair stylist, among other things, but he is a barber, plain and simple. Tell me about him–or let us consider this interview at an end.”

Baley felt weary. It seemed clear to him that Vasilia had enjoyed the fencing. She had given him enough to whet his appetite and now he would be forced to buy additional material with information of his own.–But he had none. Or at least he had only guesses. And if any of them were wrong, vitally wrong, he was through.

He therefore fenced on his own. “You understand, Dr. Vasilia, that you can’t get away with pretending that it is farcical to suppose there is a connection between Gremionis and yourself.”

“Why not, when it
is
farcical?”

“Oh no. If it were farcical, you would have laughed in my face and shut off trimensional contact. The mere fact that you were willing to abandon your earlier stand and receive me–the mere fact that you have been talking to me at length and telling me a great many things–is a clear admission that you feel that I just possibly might have my knife at your jugular.”

Vasilia’s jaw muscles tightened and she said, in a low and angry voice, “See here, little Earthman, my position is vulnerable and you probably know it. I
am
the daughter of Dr. Fastolfe and there are some here at the Institute who are foolish enough–or knavish enough–to mistrust me therefor. I don’t know what kind of story you may have heard–or made up–but that it’s more or less farcical is certain. Nevertheless, no matter how farcical, it might be used effectively against me. So I am willing to trade for it. I have told you some things and I might tell you more, but only if you now tell me what you have in your hand and convince me you are telling me the truth. So tell me
now.

“If you try to play games with me, I will be in no worse position than at present if I kick you out–and I will at least get pleasure out of that. And I will use what leverage
I
have with the Chairman to get him to cancel his decision to let you come here and have you sent right back to Earth. There is considerable pressure on him now to do this and you won’t want the addition of mine.

“So talk! Now!”

 

39.

B
ALEY

S
IMPULSE
WAS
to lead up to the crucial point, feeling his way to see if he were right. That, he felt, would not work. She would see what he was doing–she was no fool–and would stop him. He was on the track of something, he knew, and he didn’t want to spoil it. What she said about her vulnerable position as the result of her relationship to her father might well be true, but she still would not have been frightened into seeing him if she hadn’t suspected that some notion he had was not
completely
farcical.

He had to come out with something, then, with something important that would establish, at once, some sort of domination over her. Therefore–the gamble.

He said, “Santirix Gremionis offered himself to you.” And, before Vasilia could react, he raised the ante by saying, with an added touch of harshness, “And not once but many times.”

Vasilia clasped her hands over one knee, then pulled herself up and seated herself on the stool, as though to make herself more comfortable. She looked at Giskard, who stood motionless and expressionless at her side.

Then she looked at Baley and said, “Well, the idiot offers himself to everyone he sees, regardless of age and sex. I would be unusual if he paid me no attention.”

Baley made the gesture of brushing that to one side. (She had not laughed. She had not brought the interview to an end. She had not even put on a display of fury. She was waiting to see what he would build out of the statement, so he did have
something
by the tail.)

He said, “That is exaggeration, Dr. Vasilia. No one, however undiscriminating, would fail to make choices and, in the case of this Gremionis, you were selected and, despite your refusal to accept him, he continued to offer himself, quite out of keeping with Auroran custom.”

Vasilia said, “I am glad you realize I refused him. There are some who feel that, as a matter of courtesy, any offer–or almost any offer–should be accepted, but that is not my opinion. I see no reason why I have to subject myself to some uninteresting event that will merely waste my time. Do you find something objectionable in that, Earthman?”

“I have no opinion to offer–either favorable or unfavorable–in connection with Auroran custom.” (She was still waiting, listening to him. What was she waiting for? Would it be for what he wanted to say but yet wasn’t sure he dared to?)

She said, with an effort at lightness, “Do you have anything at all to offer–or are we through?”

“Not through,” said Baley, who was now forced to take another gamble. “You recognized this non-Auroran perseverance in Gremionis and it occurred to you that you could make use of it.”

“Really? How mad! What possible use could I make of it?”

“Since he was clearly attracted to you very strongly, it would not be difficult to arrange to have him attracted by another who resembled you very closely. You urged him to do so, perhaps promising to accept him if the other did not.”

“Who is this poor woman who resembles me closely?”

“You do not know? Come now, that is naïve, Dr. Vasilia. I am talking of the Solarian woman, Gladia, whom I already have said has come under the protection of Dr. Fastolfe precisely because she does resemble you. You expressed no surprise when I referred to this at the beginning of our talk. It is too late to pretend ignorance now.”

Vasilia looked at him sharply. “And from his interest in her, you deduced that he must first have been interested in me? It was this wild guess with which you approached me?”

“Not entirely a wild guess. There are other substantiating factors. Do you deny all this?”

She brushed thoughtfully at the long desk beside her and Baley wondered what details were carried by the long sheets of paper on it. He could make out, from a distance, complexities of patterns that he knew would be totally meaningless to him, no matter how carefully and thoroughly he studied them.

Vasilia said, “I grow weary. You have told me that Gremionis was interested first in me, and then in my look-alike, the Solarian. And now you want me to deny it. Why should I take the trouble to deny it? Of what importance is it? Even if it were true, how could this damage me in any way? You are saying that I was annoyed by attentions I didn’t want and that I ingeniously deflected them. Well?”

Baley said, “It is not so much what you did, as why. You knew that Gremionis was the type of person who would be persistent. He had offered himself to you over and over and he would offer himself to Gladia over and over.”

“If she would refuse him.”

“She was a Solarian, having trouble with sex, and was refusing everyone, something I dare say you knew, since I imagine that, for all your estrangement from your Fa–from Dr. Fastolfe, you have enough feeling to keep an eye on your replacement.”

“Well, then, good for her. If she refused Gremionis, she showed good taste.”

“You knew there was no ‘if’ about it. You knew she would.”

“Still–what of it?”

“Repeated offers to her would mean that Gremionis would be in Gladia’s establishment frequently, that he would cling to her.”

“One last time. Well?”

“And in Gladia’s establishment was a very unusual object, one of the two humaniform robots in existence, Jander Panell.”

Vasilia hesitated. Then, “What are you driving at?”

“I think it struck you that if, somehow, the humaniform robot were killed under circumstances that would implicate Dr. Fastolfe, that could be used as a weapon to force the secret of the humaniform positronic brain out of him. Gremionis, annoyed over Gladia’s persistent refusal to accept him and given the opportunity by his constant presence at Gladia’s establishment, could be induced to seek a fearful revenge by killing the robot.”

Vasilia blinked rapidly. “That poor barber might have twenty such motives and twenty such opportunities and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know how to order a robot to shake hands with any efficiency. How would he manage to come within a lightyear of imposing mental freeze-out on a robot?”

“Which now,” said Baley softly, “finally brings us to the point, a point I think you have been anticipating, for you have somehow restrained yourself from throwing me out because you had to make sure whether I had this point in mind or not. What I’m saying is that Gremionis did the job, with the help of this Robotics Institute,
working through you.”

 

10: Again Vasilia

40.

I
T
WAS
AS
though a hyperwave drama had come to a halt in a holographic still.

None of the robots moved, of course, but neither did Baley and neither did Dr. Vasilia Aliena. Long seconds–abnormally long ones–passed, before Vasilia let out her breath and, very slowly, rose to her feet.

Her face had tightened itself into a humorless smile and her voice was low. “You are saying, Earthman, that I am an accessory in the destruction of the humaniform robot?”

Baley said, “Something of the sort had occurred to me, Doctor.”

“Thank you for the thought. The interview is over and you will leave.” She pointed to the door.

Baley said, “I’m afraid I do not wish to.”

“I don’t consult your wishes, Earthman.”

“You must, for how can you make me leave against my wishes?”

“I have robots who, at my request, will put you out politely but firmly and without hurting anything but your self-esteem–if you have any.”

“You have but one robot here. I have two that will not allow that to happen.”

“I have twenty on instant call.”

Baley said, “Dr. Vasilia, please understand! You were surprised at seeing Daneel. I suspect that, even though you work at the Robotics Institute, where humaniform robots are the first order of business, you have never actually seen a completed and functioning one. Your robots, therefore, haven’t seen one, either. Now look at Daneel. He looks human. He looks more human than any robot who has ever existed, except for the dead Jander. To your robots, Daneel will surely look human. He will know how to present an order in such a way that they will obey him in preference, perhaps, to you.”

Vasilia said, “I can, if necessary, summon twenty human beings from within the Institute who will put you out, perhaps
with
a little damage, and your robots, even Daneel, will not be able to interfere effectively.”

“How do you intend to call them, since my robots are not going to allow you to move? They have extraordinarily quick reflexes.”

Vasilia showed her teeth in something that could not be called a smile. “I cannot speak for Daneel, but I’ve known Giskard for most of my life. I don’t think he will do
anything
to keep me from summoning help and I imagine he will keep Daneel from interfering, too.”

Baley tried to keep his voice from trembling as he skated on ever-thinner ice–and knew it. He said, “Before you do anything, perhaps you might ask Giskard what he will do if you and I give conflicting orders.”

“Giskard?” said Vasilia with supreme confidence.

Giskard’s eyes turned full on Vasilia and he said, with an odd timbre to his voice, “Little Miss, I am compelled to protect Mr. Baley. He takes precedence.”

“Indeed? By whose order? By this Earthman’s? This stranger’s?”

Giskard said, “By Dr. Han Fastolfe’s order.”

Vasilia’s eyes flashed and she slowly sat down on the stool again. Her hands, resting in her lap, trembled and she said through lips that scarcely moved, “He’s even taken
you
away.”

“If that is not enough, Dr. Vasilia,” said Daneel, speaking suddenly, of his own accord, “I, too, would place Partner Elijah’s welfare above yours.”

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