“I don’t like the thought of it, Pel. I’ve never liked the Jump. I get a funny inside-out feeling.”
Pelorat looked a bit surprised. “I had not thought of you as a space traveler, Bliss dear.”
“I’m not particularly, and I don’t mean that this is so only in my aspect as a component. Gaia itself has no occasion for regular space travel. By my/our/Gaia’s very nature, I/we/Gaia don’t explore, trade, or space junket. Still, there is the necessity of having someone at the entry stations—”
“As when we were fortunate enough to meet you.”
“Yes, Pel.” She smiled at him affectionately. “Or even to visit Sayshell and other stellar regions, for various reasons—usually clandestine. But, clandestine or not, that always means the Jump and, of course, when any part of Gaia Jumps, all of Gaia feels it.”
“That’s too bad,” said Pel.
“It could be worse. The large mass of Gaia is not undergoing the Jump, so the effect is greatly diluted. However, I seem to feel it much more than most of Gaia. As I keep trying to tell Trevize, though all of Gaia is Gaia, the individual components are not identical. We have our differences, and my makeup is, for some reason, particularly sensitive to the Jump.”
“Wait!” said Pelorat, suddenly remembering. “Trevize explained that to me once. It’s in ordinary ships that you have the worst of the sensation. In ordinary ships, one leaves the Galactic gravitational field on entering hyperspace, and comes back to it on returning to ordinary space. It’s the leaving and returning that produces the sensation. But the Far Star is a gravitic ship. It is independent of the gravitational field, and does not truly leave it or return to it. For that reason, we won’t feel a thing. I can assure you of that, dear, out of personal experience.”
“But that’s delightful. I wish I had thought to discuss the matter earlier. I would have saved myself considerable apprehension.”
“That’s an advantage in another way,” said Pelorat, feeling an expansion of spirit in his unusual role as explainer of matters astronautic. “The ordinary ship has to recede from large masses such as stars for quite a long distance through ordinary space in order to make the Jump. Part of the reason is that the closer to a star, the more intense the gravitational field, and the more pronounced are the sensations of a Jump. Then, too, the more intense the gravitational field the more complicated the equations that must be solved in order to conduct the Jump safely and end at the point in ordinary space you wish to end at.
“In a gravitic ship, however, there is no Jumpsensation to speak of. In addition, this ship has a computer that is a great deal more advanced than ordinary computers and it can handle complex equations with unusual skill and speed. The result is that instead of having to move away from a star for a couple of weeks just to reach a safe and comfortable distance for a Jump, the Far Star need travel for only two or three days. This is especially so since we are not subject to a gravitational field and, therefore, to inertial effects—I admit I don’t understand that, but that’s what Trevize tells me—and can accelerate much more rapidly than an ordinary ship could.”
Bliss said, “That’s fine, and it’s to Trev’s credit that he can handle this unusual ship.”
Pelorat frowned slightly. “Please, Bliss. Say ‘Trevize.’ ”
“I do. I do. In his absence, however, I relax a little.”
“Don’t. You don’t want to encourage the habit even slightly, dear. He’s so sensitive about it.”
“Not about that. He’s sensitive about me. He doesn’t like me.”
“That’s not so,” said Pelorat earnestly. “I talked to him about that. —Now, now, don’t frown. I was extraordinarily tactful, dear child. He assured me he did not dislike you. He is suspicious of Gaia and unhappy over the fact that he has had to make it into the future of humanity. We have to make allowances for that. He’ll get over it as he gradually comes to understand the advantages of Gaia.”
“I hope so, but it’s not just Gaia. Whatever he may tell you, Pel—and remember that he’s very fond of you and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings—he dislikes me personally.”
“No, Bliss. He couldn’t possibly.”
“Not everyone is forced to love me simply because you do, Pel. Let me explain. Trev—all right, Trevize—thinks I’m a robot.”
A look of astonishment suffused Pelorat’s ordinarily stolid features. He said, “Surely he can’t think you’re an artificial human being.”
“Why is that so surprising? Gaia was settled with the help of robots. That’s a known fact.”
“Robots might help, as machines might, but it was people who settled Gaia; people from Earth. That’s what Trevize thinks. I know he does.”
“There is nothing in Gaia’s memory about Earth as I told you and Trevize. However, in our oldest memories there are still some robots, even after three thousand years, working at the task of completing the modification of Gaia into a habitable world. We were at that time also forming Gaia as a planetary consciousness—that took a long time, Pel dear, and that’s another reason why our early memories are dim, and perhaps it wasn’t a matter of Earth wiping them out, as Trevize thinks—”
“Yes, Bliss,” said Pelorat anxiously, “but what of the robots?”
“Well, as Gaia formed, the robots left. We did not want a Gaia that included robots, for we were, and are, convinced that a robotic component is, in the long run, harmful to a human society, whether Isolate in nature or Planetary. I don’t know how we came to that conclusion but it is possible that it is based on events dating back to a particularly early time in Galactic history, so that Gaia’s memory does not extend back to it.”
“If the robots left—”
“Yes, but what if some remained behind? What if I am one of them—fifteen thousand years old perhaps. Trevize suspects that.”
Pelorat shook his head slowly. “But you’re not.”
“Are you sure you believe that?”
“Of course I do. You’re not a robot.”
“How do you know?”
“Bliss, I know. There’s nothing artificial about you. If I don’t know that, no one does.”
“Isn’t it possible I may be so cleverly artificial that in every respect, from largest to smallest, I am indistinguishable from the natural. If I were, how could you tell the difference between me and a true human being?”
Pelorat said, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to be so cleverly artificial.”
“What if it were possible, despite what you think?”
“I just don’t believe it.”
“Then let’s just consider it is a hypothetical case. If I were an indistinguishable robot, how would you feel about it?”
“Well, I—I—”
“To be specific. How would you feel about making love to a robot?”
Pelorat snapped the thumb and mid-finger of his right hand, suddenly. “You know, there are legends of women falling in love with artificial men, and vice versa. I always thought there was an allegorical significance to that and never imagined the tales could represent literal truth. —Of course, Golan and I never even heard the word ‘robot’ till we landed on Sayshell, but, now that I think of it, those artificial men and women must have been robots. Apparently, such robots did exist in early historic times. That means the legends should be reconsidered—”
He fell into silent thought, and, after Bliss had waited a moment, she suddenly clapped her hands sharply. Pelorat jumped.
“Pel dear,” said Bliss. “You’re using your mythography to escape the question. The question is: How would you feel about making love to a robot?”