“I can’t tell you that. In this, you must trust me, too.”
They looked at each other and said no more. It was as though silence made time stop, allowed them to hold on to the seconds and keep them motionless.
But it could only work so long. Baley said, “You don’t regret?”
Gladia whispered, “How could I regret—when I may never see you again?”
Baley made as though to answer that, but she put her small clenched fist against his mouth.
“Don’t lie uselessly,” she said. “I may never see you again.”
And she never did. Never!
9
It was with pain that she felt herself drag across the dead waste of years into the present once more.
I never did, she thought. Never!
She had protected herself against the bittersweet for so long and now she had plunged into it—more bitter than sweet—because she had seen this person, this Mandamus because Giskard has asked her to and because she was compelled to trust Giskard. It was his last request.
She focused on the present. (How much time had elapsed?)
Mandamus was looking at her coldly. He said, “From your reaction, Madam Gladia, I gather that it is true. You could not have said so more plainly.”
“What is true? What are you talking about?”
“That you saw the Earthman Elijah Baley five years after his visit to Aurora. His ship was in orbit about Aurora; you traveled up to see him and were with him about the time you conceived your son.”
“What evidence do you have for that?”
“Madam, it was not totally a secret. The Earthman’s ship was detected in orbit Fastolfe’s yacht was detected in its flight. It was observed to dock. It was not Fastolfe who was on board the yacht, so the presumption was that it was you. Dr. Fastolfe’s influence was sufficient to keep it off the record.”
“If it is off the record, there is no evidence.”
“Nevertheless, Dr. Amadiro has spent the last two thirds of his life following Dr. Fastolfe’s movements with the eyes of detestation. There were always government officials who were heart and soul with Dr. Amadiro’s policy of reserving the Galaxy for the Spacers and they would quietly report to him anything they thought he would like to know. Dr. Amadiro learned of your little escapade almost as soon as it happened.”
“It is still not evidence. The unsupported word of a minor official currying favor is of no account. Amadiro did nothing because even he knew he had no evidence.”
“No evidence with which he could charge anyone with even a misdemeanor; no evidence with which he could trouble Fastolfe, but evidence enough to suspect me of being a descendant of Baley’s and to cripple my career therefore.”
Gladia said bitterly, “You may cease being troubled. My son is the son of Santirix Gremionis, a true Auroran, and it is from this son of Gremionis that you are descended.”
“Convince me of it, madam. I ask nothing better. Convince me that you fired up into orbit and that you spent hours alone with the Earthman and that, during that time, you talked—politics, perhaps—discussed old times and mutual friends—told funny stories—and never touched each other. Convince me.”
“What we did, did not matter, so spare me your sarcasm. At the time I saw him, I was already pregnant by my then husband. I was carrying a three-month-old fetus, an Auroran fetus.
“Can you prove that?”
“Why should I have to prove it? The date of my son’s birth is on record and Amadiro must have the date of my visit to the Earthman.”
“He was told it at the time, as I said, but nearly twenty decades have passed and he doesn’t remember exactly. The visit is not a matter of record and cannot be referred to. I fear that Dr. Amadiro would prefer to believe that it was nine months before the birth of your son that you were with the Earthman.”
“Six months.”
“Prove it.”
“You have my word.”
“Insufficient.”
“Well, then—Daneel, you were with me. When did I see Elijah Baley?”
“Madam Gladia, it was one hundred and seventy-three days before the birth of your son.”
Gladia said, “Which is just under six months before the birth.”
“Insufficient,” said Mandamus.
Gladia’s chin lifted. “Daneel’s memory is perfect, as can be easily demonstrated, and a robot’s statements pass for evidence in the courts of Aurora.”
“This is not a matter for the courts and will not be and Daneel’s memory carries no weight with Dr. Amadiro. Daneel was constructed by Fastolfe and was maintained by Fastolfe for nearly two centuries. We cannot say what modifications were introduced or how Daneel might have been instructed to deal with matters relating to Dr. Amadiro.”
“Then reason it out, man. Earthmen are quite different genetically from us. We are virtually different species. We are not interfertile.”
“Unproven.”
“Well, then, genetic records exist. Darrel’s do; Santirix’s do. Compare them. If my ex-husband were not his father, the genetic differences would make that unmistakable.”
“Genetic records are not for anyone’s eyes. You know that.”
“Amadiro is not that immersed in ethical considerations. He has the influence to see them illegally.—Or is he afraid of disproving his hypothesis?”
“Whatever the reason, madam, he will not betray an Auroran’s right to privacy.”
Gladia said, “Well, then, go to outer space and choke on vacuum. If your Amadiro refuses to be convinced, that is no affair of mine. You, at least, ought to be convinced and it is your job to convince Amadiro in his turn. If you cannot and if your career does not move onward as you would like to have it do, please be assured that this is entirely and intensely no concern of mine.”
“That does not surprise me. I expect nothing more. And for that matter, I am convinced. I was merely hoping that you would give me some material with which to convince Dr. Amadiro. You haven’t.”
Gladia shrugged with disdain.
“I will use other methods, then,” said Mandamus.
“I’m glad you have them,” Gladia said coldly.
Mandamus said in a lower voice, almost as though he was unaware of the presence of anyone else, “So am I. There are powerful methods remaining to me.”
“Good. I suggest you try blackmail on Amadiro. He must have much to be blackmailed for.”
Mandamus looked up, suddenly frowning. “Don’t be a fool.”
Gladia said, “You may go, now. I think I have had all of you I wish to endure. Out of my establishment!”
Mandamus lifted his arms. “Wait! I told you at the start that there were two reasons for seeing you—one a personal matter and one a matter of state. I have spent—too long a time on the first, but I must request five minutes to discuss the second.”
“I’ll give you no more than five minutes.”
“There is someone else who wants to see you. An Earthman—or at least a member of one of the Settler worlds, a descendant of Earthpeople.”
“Tell him,” said Gladia, “that neither Earthpeople nor their Settler descendants are allowed on Aurora and send him away. Why do I have to see him?”
“Unfortunately, madam, in the last two centuries the balance of power has shifted somewhat. These Earthpeople have more worlds than we have—and have always had a far larger population. They have more ships, even though those are not as advanced as ours, and because of their short lives and their fecundity they are apparently far readier to die than we are.”
“I don’t believe that last.”
Mandamus smiled tightly. “Why not? Eight decades mean less than forty do. In any case, we must treat them politely—far more politely than we ever had to in Elijah Baley’s day. If it is any comfort to you, it is the policies of Fastolfe that have created this situation.”
“For whom do you speak, by the way? It is Amadiro who must now bring himself to be polite to Settlers?”