“Who is this poor woman who resembles me closely?”
“You do not know? Come now, that is naive, 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 light-year 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 Fm saying is that Gremionis did the job, with the help of this Robotics Institute, working through you.”
10. Again Vasilia
40
It 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 out 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.”
Vasilia looked at Daneel with bitter curiosity. “Partner Elijah? Is that what you call him?”
“Yes, Dr. Vasilia. My choice in this matter—the Earthman over you—arises not only out of Dr. Fastolfe's instructions, but because the Earthman and I are partners in this investigation and because—” Daneel paused as though puzzled by what he was about to say, and then said it anyway, “—we are friends.”
Vasilia said, “Friends? An Earthman and a humaniform robot? Well, there is a match. Neither quite human.”
Baley said, sharply, “Nevertheless bound by friendship. Do not, for your own sake, test the force of our—” Now it was he who paused and, as though to his own surprise, completed the sentence impossibly, “—love.”
Vasilia turned to Baley. “What do you want?”
“Information. I have been called to Aurora—this World of the Dawn—to straighten out an event that does not seem to have an easy explanation, one in which Dr. Fastolfe stands falsely accused, with the possibility, therefore, of terrible consequences for your world and mine. Daneel and Giskard understand this situation well and know that nothing but the First Law at its fullest and most immediate can take precedence over my efforts to solve the mystery. Since they have heard what I have said and know that you might possibly be an accessory to the deed, they understand that they must not allow t
his interview to end. Therefore, I say again, don't risk the actions they may be forced to take if you refuse to answer my questions. I have accused you of being an accessory in the murder of Jander Panell. Do you deny that accusation or not? You must answer.”
Vasilia said bitterly, “I will answer. Never fear! Murder? A robot is put out of commission and that's murder} Well, I do deny it, murder or whatever! I deny it with all possible force. I have not given Gremionis information on robotics for the purpose of allowing him to put an end to
Jander. I don't know enough to do so and I suspect that no one at the Institute knows enough.”
Baley said, “I can't say whether you know enough to have helped commit the crime or whether anyone at the Institute knows enough. We can, however, discuss motive. First, you might have a feeling of tenderness for this Gremionis. However much you might reject his offers— however contemptible you might find him as a possible lover—would it be so strange that you would feel flattered by his persistence, sufficiently so to be willing to help him if he turned to you prayerfully and without any sexual demands with which to annoy you?”
“You mean he may have come to me and said, ‘Vasilia, dear, I want to put a robot out of commission. Please tell me how to do it and I will be terribly grateful to you.’ And I would say, ‘Why, certainly, dear, I would just love to help you commit a crime.’ —Preposterous! No one except an Earthman, who knows nothing of Auroran ways, could believe anything like this could happen. It would take a particularly stupid Earthman, too.”
“Perhaps, but all possibilities must be considered. For instance, as a second possibility, might you yourself not be jealous over the fact that Gremionis has switched his affections, so that you might help him not out of abstract tenderness but out of a very concrete desire to win him back?”
“Jealous? That is an Earthly emotion. If I do not wish Gremionis for myself, how can I possibly care whether he offers himself to another woman and she accepts or, for that matter, if another woman offers herself to him and he accepts?”
“I have been told before that sexual jealousy is unknown on Aurora and I am willing to admit that is true in theory, but such theories rarely hold up in practice. There are surely some exceptions. What's more, jealousy is all too often an irrational emotion and not to be dismissed by mere logic. Still, let us leave that for the moment. As a third possibility, you might be jealous of Gladia and wish to do her harm, even if you don't care the least bit for Gremionis yourself.”
“Jealous of Gladia? I have never even seen her, except once on the hyperwave when she arrived in Aurora. The fact that people have commented on her resemblance to me, every once in a long while, hasn't bothered me.”
“Does it perhaps bother you that she is Dr. Fastolfe's ward, his favorite, almost the daughter that you were once? She has replaced you.”
“She is welcome to that. I could not care less.”
“Even if they were lovers?”
Vasilia stared at Baley with growing fury and beads of perspiration appeared at her hairline.
She said, “There is no need to discuss this. You have asked me to deny the allegation that I was accessory to what you call murder and I have denied it. I have said I lacked the ability and I lacked the motive. You are welcome to present your case to all Aurora. Present your foolish attempts at supplying me with a motive. Maintain, if you wish, that I have the ability to do so. You will get nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.”
And even while she trembled with anger, it seemed to Baley that there was conviction in her voice.
She did not fear the accusation.
She had agreed to see him, so he was on the track of something that she feared—perhaps feared desperately.
But she did not fear this.
Where, then, had he gone wrong?
41
Baley said (troubled, casting about for some way out), “Suppose I accept your statement, Dr. Vasilia. Suppose I agree that my suspicion that you might have been an accessory in this—roboticide—was wrong. Even that would not mean that it is impossible for you to help me.”
“Why should I help you?”
Baley said, “Out of human decency. Dr. Han Fastolfe assures us he did not do it, that he is not a robot-killer, that he did not put this particular robot, Jander, out of operation. You've known Dr. Fastolfe better than anyone ever has, one would suppose. You spent years in an intimate relationship with him as a beloved child and growing daughter. You saw him at times and under conditions that no one else saw him. Whatever your present feelings toward him might be, the past is not changed by them. Knowing him as you do, you must be able to bear witness that his character is such that he could not harm a robot, certainly not a robot that is one of his supreme achievements. Would you be willing to bear such witness openly? To all the worlds? It would help a great deal.”
Vasilia's face seemed to harden. “Understand me,” she said, pronouncing the words distinctly. “I will not be involved.”
“You must be involved.”
“Why?”
“Do you owe nothing to your father? He is your father. Whether the word means anything to you or not, there is a biological connection. And besides that—father or not—he took care of you, nurtured and brought you up, for years. You owe him something for that.”
Vasilia trembled. It was a visible shaking and her teeth were chattering. She tried to speak, failed, took a deep breath, another, then tried again. She said, “Giskard, do you hear all that is going on?”
Giskard bowed his head. “Yes, Little Miss.”
“And you, the humaniform—Daneel?”
“Yes, Dr. Vasilia.”
“You hear all this, too?”
“Yes, Dr. Vasilia.”
“You both understand the Earthman insists that I bear evidence on Dr. Fastolfe's character?”
Both nodded.
“Then I will speak—against my will and in anger. It is because I have felt that I did owe this father of mine some minimum consideration as my gene-bearer and, after a fashion, my upbringer, that I have not borne witness. But now I will. Earthman, listen to me. Dr. Han Fastolfe, some of whose genes I share, did not take care of me— me—me—as a separate, distinct human being. I was to him nothing more than an experiment, an observational phenomenon.”
Ealey shook his head. “That is not what I was asking.”
She drove furiously over him. “You insisted that I speak and I will speak—and it -will answer you. —One thing interests Dr. Han Fastolfe. One thing. One thing only. That is the functioning of the human brain. He wishes to reduce it to equations, to a wiring diagram, to a solved maze, and thus found a mathematical science of human behavior which will allow him to predict the human future. He calls the science ‘psychohistory.’ I can't believe that you have talked to him for as little as an hour without his mentioning it. It is the monomania that drives him.”
Vasilia searched Baley's face and cried out in a fierce joy, “I can tell! He has talked to you about it. Then he must have told you that he is interested in robots only insofar as they can bring him to the human brain. He is interested in humaniform robots only insofar as they can bring him still closer to the human brain. —Yes,.he's told you that, too.
“The basic theory that made humaniform robots possible arose, I am quite certain, out of his attempt to understand the human brain and he hugs that theory to himself and will allow no one else to see it because he wants to solve the problem of the human brain totally by himself in the two centuries or so he has left. Everything is subordinate to that. And that most certainly included me.”
Baley, trying to breast his way against the flood of fury, said in a low voice, “In what way did it include you, Dr. Vasilia?”
“When I was born, I should have been placed with others of my kind, with professionals who knew how to care for infants. I should not have been kept by myself in the charge of an amateur—father or not, scientist or not. Dr. Fastolfe should not have been allowed to subject a child to such
an environment and would not—if he had been anyone else but Han Fastolfe. He used all his prestige to bring it about, called in every debt he had, persuaded every key person he could, until he had control of me.
“He loved you,” muttered Baley.
“Loved me? Any other infant would have done as well, but no other infant was available. What he wanted was a growing child in his presence, a developing brain. He wanted to make a careful study of the method of its development, the fashion of its growth. He wanted a human brain in simple form, growing complex, so that he could study it in detail. For that purpose, he subjected me to an abnormal environment and to subtle experimentation, with no consideration for me as a human being at all.”
“I can't believe that. Even if he were interested in you as an experimental object, he could still care for you as a human being.”
“No. You speak as an Earthman. Perhaps on Earth there is some sort of regard for biological connections. Here there is not. I was an experimental object to him. Period.”
“Even if that were so to start with, Dr. Fastolfe couldn't help but learn to love you—a helpless object entrusted to his care. Even if there were no biological connection at all, even if you were an animal, let us say, he would have learned to love you.”
“Oh, would he now?” she said bitterly. “You don't know the force of indifference in a man like Dr. Fastolfe. If it would have advanced his knowledge to snuff out my life, he would have done so without hesitation.”
“That is ridiculous, Dr. Vasilia. His treatment of you was so kind and considerate that it evoked love from you. I know that. You—you offered yourself to him.”
“He told you that, did he? Yes, he would. Not for a moment, even today, would he stop to question whether such a revelation might not embarrass me. —Yes, I offered myself to him and why not? He was the only human being I really knew. He was superficially gentle to me and I didn't understand his true purposes. He was a natural target for me. Then, too, he saw to it that I was introduced to sexual stimulation under controlled conditions— the controls he set up. It was inevitable that eventually I would turn to him. I had to, for there was no one else— and he refused.”