“Too bad they haven’t,” replied Vasilia, tartly. “With all the Spacer worlds a jumble of individuals, progress is too slow. The Settler worlds meet regularly at conventions, have their institutes—and though they lag well behind us, they will catch up.—Still, I’ve managed to uncover a few technological advances being worked on by the Spacer worlds and I have them all listed in my report. They are all working on the nuclear intensifier, for instance, but I don’t believe that such a device has passed beyond the laboratory demonstration level on a single world. Something that would be practical on shipboard is not yet here.”
“I hope you are right in that, Vasilia. The nuclear intensifier is a weapon our fleets could use, for it would finish the Settlers at once. However, I think, on the whole, it would be better if Aurora had the weapon ahead of our Spacer brothers.—But you said that all was included in your report—almost. I heard that ‘almost.’ What is not included, then?”
“Solaria!”
“Ah, the youngest and most peculiar of the Spacer worlds.”
“I got almost nothing directly out of them. They viewed me with absolute hostility as, I believe, they would have viewed any non-Solarian, whether Spacer or Settler. And when I say ‘viewed,’ I mean that in their sense. I remained nearly a year on the world, a considerably longer time than I spent on any other world, and in all those months I never saw a single Solarian face-to-face. In every case, I viewed him—or her—by hyperwave hologram. I could never deal with anything tangible—images only. The world was comfortable, incredibly luxurious, in fact, and for a nature lover, totally unspoiled, but how I missed seeing.”
“Well, viewing is a Solarian custom.—We all know that, Vasilia. Live and let live.”
“Humph,” said Vasilia. “Your tolerance may be misplaced. Are your robots in the nonrepeat mode?”
“Yes, they are. And I assure you we are not being eavesdropped upon.”
“I hope not, Kelden.—I am under the distinct impression that the Solarians are closer to developing a miniaturized nuclear intensifier than any other world—than we are. They may be close to making one that’s portable and that’s possessed of a power consumption small enough to make it practical for space vessels.”
Amadiro frowned deeply. “How do they manage that?”
“I cannot say. You don’t suppose they showed me blueprints, do you? My impressions are so inchoate I dared not put them in the report, but from small things I heard here or observed there—I think they are making important progress. This is something we should think about carefully.”
“We will.—Is there anything else you would like to tell me?”
“Yes—and also not in the report. Solaria has been working toward humanoid robots for many decades and I think they have achieved that goal. No other Spacer would—outside of ourselves, of course—has even attempted the matter. When I asked, on each world, what they were doing with respect to humanoid robots, the reaction was uniform. They found the very concept unpleasant and horrifying. I suspect they all noticed our failure and took it to heart.”
“But not Solaria? Why not?”
“For one thing, they have always lived in the most extremely robotized society in the Galaxy. They’re surrounded by robots—ten thousand per individual. The world is saturated with them. If you were to wander through it aimlessly, searching for humans, you would find nothing. So why should the few Solarians, living in such a world, be upset by the thought of a few more robots just because they’re humaniform? Then, too, that pseudo-human wretch that Fastolfe designed and built and that still exists.”
“Daneel,” said Amadiro.
“Yes, that one. He—it was on Solaria twenty decades ago and the Solarians treated it as human. They have never recovered from that. Even if they had no use for humaniforms, they were humiliated at having been deceived. It was an unforgettable demonstration that Aurora was far ahead of them in that one facet of robotics, at any rate. The Solarians take inordinate pride in being the most advanced roboticists in the Galaxy and, ever since, individual Solarians have been working on humaniforms—if for no other reason than to wipe out that disgrace. If they had had greater numbers or an institute that could coordinate their work, they would undoubtedly have come up with some long ago. As it is, I think they have them now.”
“You don’t really know, do you? This is just suspicion based on scraps of data here and there.”
“Exactly right, but it’s a fairly strong suspicion and it merits further investigation.—And a third point. I could swear they were working on telepathic communication. There was some equipment that I was incautiously allowed to see. And once when I had one of their roboticists on view the hyperwave screen showed a blackboard with a positronic pattern matrix that was like nothing I ever remember seeing, yet it seemed to me that pattern might fit a telepathic program.”
“I suspect, Vasilia, that this item is woven of even airier gossamer than the bit about the humanoid robots.”
A look of mild embarrassment crossed Vasilia’s face. “I must admit you’re probably right there.”
“In fact, Vasilia, it sounds like mere fantasy. If the pattern matrix you saw was like nothing you remember ever having seen before, how could you think it would fit anything?”
Vasilia hesitated. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been wondering about that myself. Yet when I saw the pattern, the word ‘telepathy’ occurred to me at once.”
“Even though telepathy is impossible, even in theory.”
“It is thought to be impossible, even in theory. That is not quite the same thing.”
“No one has ever been able to make any progress toward it.”
“Yes, but why should I have looked at that pattern and thought ‘telepathy’?”
“Ah well, Vasilia, there may be a personal psychoquirk there that is useless to try to analyze. I’d forget it.”
“Anything else?”
“One more thing—and the most puzzling of all. I gathered the impression, Kelden, from one little indication or another, that the Solarians are planning to leave their planet.
“I don’t know. Their population, small as it is, is declining further. Perhaps they want to make a new start elsewhere before they die out altogether.”
“What kind of new start? Where would they go?”
Vasilia shook her head. “I have told you all I know.”
Amadiro said slowly, “Well, then, I will take all this into account. Four things: nuclear intensifier, humanoid robots, telepathic robots, and abandoning the planet. Frankly, I have no faith in any of the four, but I’ll persuade the Council to authorize talks with the Solarian regent.—And now, Vasilia, I believe you could use a rest, so why not take a few weeks off and grow accustomed to the Auroran sun and fine weather before getting back to work?”
“That is kind of you, Kelden,” said Vasilia—remaining firmly seated, “but there remain two items I must bring up.”
Involuntarily, Amadiro’s eyes sought the time strip. “This won’t take up very much time, will it, Vasilia?”
“However much time it takes, Kelden, is what it will take up.”
“What is it you want then?”
“To begin with, who is this young know-it-all who seems to think he is running, the Institute, this what’s-his-name, Mandamus?”
“You’ve met him, have you?” said Amadiro, his smile masking a certain uneasiness. “You see, things do change on Aurora.”
“Certainly not for the better in this case,” said Vasilia grimly. “Who is he?”
“He is exactly what you have described—a know-it-all. He is a brilliant young man, bright enough in robotics, but, just as knowledgeable in general physics, in chemistry, in planetology—”