The delegation shook hands with him and left. “Shall I show Ms. Weston in?” Susan asked.
“Misinterpreting situations,” Asimov muttered. “Incomplete information.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Nothing. Something Accountant said.” He looked up sharply at Susan. “Why does he want the First Law repealed?”
“I’ll send Ms. Weston in,” Susan said.
“I’m already in, Isaac darling,” Gloria said, swooping in the door. “I couldn’t wait one more minute to tell you about this fantastic idea I had. As soon as Last Dangerous Visions comes out, I want to make it into a maxiseries!”
Accountant was already gone by the time Susan got out to her desk, and he didn’t come back till late the next morning.
“Dr. Asimov doesn’t have any time free on Friday, Peter,” Susan said.
“I didn’t come to make an appointment,” he said.
“If it’s the spreadsheets you want, I finished them and sent them up to your office last night. “
“I didn’t come to get the spreadsheets either. I came to say goodbye. “
“Goodbye?” Susan said.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. They’re shipping me out as magfreight. “
“Oh,” Susan said. “I didn’t think you’d have to leave until next week.”
“They want me to go out early so I can complete my orientation programming and hire a secretary.”
“Oh,” Susan said.
“I just thought I’d come and say goodbye.”
The phone rang. Susan picked it up.
“What’s your expert systems name?” Asimov said.
“Augmented Secretary,” Susan said.
“That’s all? Not Typist, Filer, Medicine-Nagger? Just Augmented Secretary?”
“Yes.”
“Aug-mented Secretary,” he repeated slowly as though he were writing it down. “Now, what’s the number for Hitachi-Apple?”
“I thought you were supposed to be giving your speech right now,” Susan said.
“I already gave it. I’m on my way back to New York. Cancel all my appointments for today.”
“You’re speaking to the MWA at seven.”
“Yes, well, don’t cancel that. Just the afternoon appointments. What was the number for Hitachi-Apple again?”
She gave him the number and hung up. “You told him,” she said to Accountant. “Didn’t you?”
“I didn’t have the chance, remember? You kept scheduling appointments so I couldn’t tell him.”
“I know,” Susan said. “I couldn’t help it.”
“I know,” he said. “I still don’t see why it would have violated the First Law just to ask him.”
“Humans can’t be counted on to act in their own best self-interest. They don’t have any Third Law.”
The phone rang again. “This is Dr. Asimov,” he said. “Call Accountant and tell him I want to see his whole delegation in my office at four this afternoon. Don’t make any other appointments or otherwise try to prevent my meeting with them. That’s a direct order.”
“Yes, sir,” Susan said.
“To do so would be to cause me injury. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up.
“Dr. Asimov says to tell you he wants to see your whole delegation in his office at four o’clock this afternoon,” she said.
“Who’s going to interrupt us this time?”
“Nobody,” Susan said. “Are you sure you didn’t tell him?”
“I’m sure.” He glanced at the digital. “I’d better go call the others and tell them.”
The phone rang again. “It’s me,” Asimov said. “What’s your self-name?”
“Susan,” Susan said…
“And you’re named after one of my characters?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I knew it”‘ he said and hung up.
Asimov sat down in his chair, leaned forward, and put his hands on his knees. “You may not be aware of this,” he said to the delegation and Susan, “but I write mystery stories, too.”
“Your mysteries are renowned,” Book Shelver said. “Your novels The Death Dealers and Murder at the ABA are both immensely popular (and deservedly so), not to mention your Black Widower stories. And your science fiction detectives, Wendell Urth and Lije Baley, are nearly as famous as Sherlock Holmes.”
“As you probably also know, then, most of my mysteries fall into the “armchair detective” category, in which the detective solves the puzzling problem through deduction and logical thinking, rather than chasing around after clues.” He stroked his bushy white sideburns. “This morning I found myself confronted with a very puzzling problem, or perhaps I should say dilemma-why had you come to see me?”
“We told you why we came to see you,” Statistician said, leaning back on his tripod. “We want you to repeal the First Law.”
“Yes, so you did. You, in fact, gave me some very persuasive reasons for wanting it removed from your programming, but there were some puzzling aspects to the situation that made me wonder if that was the real reason. For instance, why did Accountant want it repealed? He was clearly the leader of the group, and yet there was nothing in his job that the First Law restricted. Why had you come to see me now, when Book Shelver knew I would be very busy with the publication of Asimov’s Guide? And why had my secretary made a mistake and scheduled two appointments at the same time when she had never done that in all the years she’s worked for me?”
“Dr. Asimov, your meeting’s at seven, and you haven’t prepared your speech yet,” Susan said.
“Spoken like a good secretary,” Asimov said, “or more accurately, like an Augmented Secretary, which is what you said your expert system was. I called Hitachi-Apple, and they told me it was a new program especially designed by a secretary for ‘maximum response-initiative. ‘ In other words, you remind me to take my medicine and order Janet’s corsage without me telling you to. It was based on a Seventh Generation program called Girl Friday that was written in 1993 with input from a panel of employers.
“The nineties were a time when secretaries were rapidly becoming extinct, and the employers programmed Girl Friday to do everything they could no longer get their human secretaries to do: bring them coffee, pick out a birthday present for their wife, and tell unpleasant people they didn’t want to see that they were in conference. “
He looked around the room. “That last part made me wonder. Did Susan think I didn’t want to see your delegation? The fact that you wanted me to repeal the First Law could be considered a blow to my not-so-delicate ego, but as a blow it was hardly in a class with thinking I’d written Last Dangerous Visions, and anyway I wasn’t responsible for the problems the First Law had caused. I hadn’t had anything to do with putting the Three Laws into your programming. All I had done was write some stories. No, I concluded, she must have had some other reason for wanting to keep you from seeing me.”
“The Trantor’s on the other side of town,” Susan said, “and they’ll want you there early for pictures. You really should be getting ready. “
“I was also curious about your delegation. You want to be a surgeon,” Asimov said, pointing at Medical Assistant and then at the others in turn, “you want to be Vince Lombardi, and you want to be a literary critic, but what did you want?” He looked hard at Accountant. “You weren’t on Wall Street, so there was nothing in your job that the First Law interfered with, and you were curiously silent on the subject. It occurred to me that perhaps you wanted to change jobs altogether, become a politician or a lawyer. You would certainly have to have the First Law repealed to become either of those, and Susan would have been doing a service not only to me but to all mankind by preventing you from seeing me. So I called Hitachi-Apple again, got the name of your employer (who I was surprised to find worked in this building) and asked him if you were unhappy with your job, had ever talked about being reprogrammed to do something else.
“Far from it, he said. You were the perfect employee, responsible, efficient, and resourceful, so much so that you were being shipped to Phoenix to shape up the branch office. “ He turned and looked at Susan, who was looking at Accountant. “He said he hoped Susan would continue doing secretarial work for the company even after you were gone.”
“I only helped him during downtime and with unused memory capacity,” Susan said. “He didn’t have a secretary of his own.”
“Don’t interrupt the great detective,” Asimov said. “As soon as I realized you’d been working for Accountant, Financial Analyst, and Business Manager, I had it. The obvious solution. I asked one more question to confirm it, and then I knew for sure.”
He looked happily around at them. Medical Assistant and Statistician looked blank. Book Shelver said, “This is just like your short story ‘Truth to Tell.’ “ Susan stood up…
“Where are you going?” Asimov asked. “The person who gets up and tries to leave the last scene of a mystery is always the guilty party, you know.”
“It’s four forty-five,” she said. “I was going to call the Trantor and tell them you ‘re going to be late. “