“I have been operational twenty-nine years, madam.”
“Has anyone else in this group been operational for longer?”
“No, madam. It is why I, rather than another, am speaking.”
“How many robots are employed on this estate?”
“I do not have that figure, madam.”
“Roughly.”
“Perhaps ten thousand, madam.”
“Have any been operational for longer than twenty decades?”
“The agricultural robots some who may, madam.”
“And the household robots?”
“They have not been operational long, madam—The masters prefer new-model robots.”
Gladia nodded, turned to Daneel, and said, “That makes sense. It was so in my day, too.”
She turned back to the robot. “To whom does this estate belong?”
“It is the Zoberlon Estate, madam.”
“How long has it belonged to the Zoberlon family?”
“Longer, madam, than I have been operational. I do not know how much longer, but the information can be obtained.”
“To whom did it belong before the Zoberlons took possession?”
“I do not know, madam, but the information can be obtained.”
“Have you ever heard of the Delmarre family?”
“No, madam.”
Gladia turned to Daneel and said, rather ruefully, “I’m trying to lead the robot, little by little, as Elijah might once have done, but I don’t think I know how to do it properly.”
“On the contrary, Lady Gladia,” said Daneel gravely, “it seems to me you have established much. It is not likely that any robot on this estate, except perhaps for a few of the agriculturals, would have any memory of you. Would you have encountered any of the agriculturals in your time?”
Gladia shook her head. “Never! I don’t recall seeing any of them even in the distance.”
“It is clear, then, that you are not known on this estate.”
“Exactly. And poor D.G. has brought us along for nothing. If he expected any good of me, he has failed.”
“To know the truth is always useful, madam. Not to be known is, in this case, less useful than to be known, but not to know whether one is known or not would be less useful still. Are there not, perhaps, other points on which you might elicit information?”
“Yes, let’s see—” For a few seconds, she was lost in thought, then she said softly, “It’s odd. When I speak to robots, I speak with a pronounced Solarian accent, yet I do not speak so to you.”
Daneel said, “It is not surprising, Lady Gladia. The robots speak with such an accent, for they are Solarian. That brings back the days of your youth and you speak, automatically, as you spoke then. You are at once yourself, however, when you turn to me because I am part of your present world.”
A slow smile appeared on Gladia’s face and she said, “You reason more and more like a human being, Daneel.”
She turned back to the robots and was keenly aware of the peacefulness of the surroundings. The sky was an almost unmarked blue, except for a thin line of clouds on the western horizon (indicating that it might turn cloudy in the afternoon). There was the sound of rustling leaves in a light wind, the whirring of insects, a lonely birdcall. No sound of human beings. There might be many robots about, but they worked silently. There weren’t the exuberant sounds of human beings that she had grown accustomed to (painfully, at first) on Aurora.
But now back on Solaria, she found the peace wonderful. It had not been all bad on Solaria. She had to admit it.
She said to the robot quickly, with a note of compulsion, edging her voice, “Where are your masters?”
It was useless, however, to try to hurry or alarm a robot or to catch it off-guard. It said, without any sign of perturbation. “They are gone, madam.”
“Where have they gone?”
“I don’t know, madam. I was not told.”
“Which of you knows?”
There was a complete silence.
Gladia said, “Is there any robot on the estate who would know?”
The robot said, “I do not know of any, madam.”
“Did the masters take robots with them?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Yet they didn’t take you. Why do you remain behind?”
“To do our work, madam.”
“Yet you stand here and do nothing. Is that work?”
“We guard the estate from those from outside, madam.”
“Such as we?”
“Yes, madam.”
“But here we are and yet you still do nothing. Why is that?”
“We observe, madam. We have no further orders.”
“Have you reported your observations?”
“Yes, madam.”
“To whom?”
“To the overseer, madam.”
“Where is the overseer?”
“In the mansion, madam.”
“Ah.” Gladia turned and walked briskly back to D.G. Daneel followed.
“Well?” said D.G. He was holding both weapons at the ready, but put them back in their holsters as they returned. Gladia shook her head. “Nothing. No robot knows me. No robot, I’m sure, knows where the Solarians have gone. But they report to an overseer.”
“An overseer?”
“On Aurora and the other Spacer worlds, the overseer on large estates with numerous robots is some human whose profession it is to organize and direct groups of working robots in the fields, mines, and industrial establishments.”
“Then there are Solarians left behind?”
Gladia shook her head. “Solaria is an exception. The ratio of robots to human beings has always been so high that it has not been the custom to assign a man or woman to oversee the robots. That job has been done by another robot, one that is specially programmed.”
“Then there is a robot in that mansion”—D.G. nodded with his head—“who is more advanced than these and who might profitably be questioned.”
“Perhaps, but I am not certain it is safe to attempt to go into the mansion.”
D.G. said sardoncially, “It is only an—other robot.”
“The mansion may be booby-trapped.”
“This field may be booby-trapped.”
Gladia said, “It would be better to send one of the robots to the mansion to tell the overseer that human beings wish to speak to him.”
D.G. said, “That will not be necessary. That job has apparently been done already. The overseer is emerging and is neither a robot nor a ‘him.’ What I see is a human female.”
Gladia looked up in astonishment. Advancing rapidly toward them was a tall, well-formed, and exceedingly attractive woman. Even at a distance, there was no doubt whatever as to her sex.
30
D.G. smiled broadly. He seemed to be straightening himself a bit, squaring his shoulders, throwing them back. One hand went lightly to his beard, as though to make sure it was sleek and smooth.
Gladia looked at him with disfavor. She said, “That is not a Solarian woman.”
“How can you tell?” said D.G.
“No Solarian woman would allow herself to be seen so freely by other human beings. Seen, not viewed.”
“I know the distinction, my lady. Yet you allow me to see you.”
“I have lived over twenty decades on Aurora. Even so I have enough Solarian left in me still not to appear to others like that.”
“She has a great deal to display, madam. I would say she is taller than I am and as beautiful as a sunset.”
The overseer had stopped twenty meters short of their position and the robots had moved aside so that none of them remained between the woman on one side and the three from the ship on the other.
D.G. said, “Customs can change in twenty decades.”