Vasilia nodded wearily at this. “It sounds good, Kelden, but do you know what I suspect will happen?”
“What, Vasilia?”
“It is my opinion that the Settler ship will rise from the surface of Solaria, but that our warships won’t. Whatever is on Solaria can be countered by Giskard, but, I fear, by nothing else.”
“If that happens,” said Amadiro with a grim smile, “then I’ll admit there may be something, after all, to your fantasy.—But it won’t happen.”
64
The next morning Vasilia’s chief personal robot, delicately designed to appear female, came to Vasilia’s bedside. Vasilia stirred and, without opening her eyes, said, “What is it, Nadila?” (There was no need to open her eyes. In many decades, no one had ever approached her bedside but Nadila.)
Nadila said softly, “Madam, you are desired at the Institute by Dr. Amadiro.”
Vasilia’s eyes flew open. “What time is it?”
“It is 05:17, madam.”
“Before sunrise?” Vasilia was indignant.
“Yes, madam.”
“When does he want me?”
“Now, madam.”
“Why?”
“His robots have not informed us, madam, but they say it is important.”
Vasilia threw aside the bed sheets. “I will have breakfast first, Nadila, and a shower before that. Inform Amadiro’s robots to take visitors’ niches and wait. If they urge speed, remind them they are in my establishment.”
Vasilia, annoyed, did not hasten unduly. If anything, her toilette was more painstaking than usual and her breakfast more leisurely. (She was not ordinarily one to spend much time over either.) The news, which she watched, gave no indication of anything that might explain Amadiro’s call.
By the time the ground-car (containing herself and four robots—two of Amadiro’s and two of her own) had brought her to the Institute, the sun was making its appearance over the horizon Amadiro looked up and said, “You are finally here, then.”
The walls of his office were still glowing, though their light was no longer needed.
“I’m sorry,” said Vasilia stiffly. “I quite realize that sunrise is a terribly late hour at which to begin work.”
“No games, Vasilia, please. Very soon I will have to be at the Council chamber. The Chairman has been up longer than I have.—Vasilia, I apologize, quite humbly, for doubting you.”
“The Settler ship has lifted off safely, then.”
“Yes. And one of our ships has been destroyed, as you predicted.—The fact has not been publicized yet, but the news will leak out eventually, of course.”
Vasilia’s eyes widened. She had predicted this outcome with a bit more in the way of outward confidence than she had felt, but clearly this was not the time to say so. What she did say was “Then you accept the fact that Giskard has extraordinary powers.”
Cautiously, Amadiro said, “I don’t consider the matter to be mathematically proven, but I’m willing to accept it pending further information. What I want to know is what we ought to do next. The Council knows nothing of Giskard and I do not propose to tell them.”
“I’m glad your thinking is clear to that extend, Kelden.”
“But you’re the one who understands Giskard and you can best tell what ought to be done. What do I tell the Council, then, and how do I explain the action without giving away the whole truth?”
“It depends. Now that the Settler ship has left Solaria, where is it going? Can we tell? After all, if it is returning now to Aurora, we need do nothing but prepare for its arrival.”
“It is not coming to Aurora,” said Amadiro emphatically. “You were right here, too, it seems. Giskard—assuming he is running the show—seems determined to stay away. We have intercepted the ship’s messages to, its own world. Encoded, of course, but there isn’t a Settler code we haven’t broken—”
“I suspect they’ve broken ours, too. I wonder why everyone won’t agree to send messages in the clear and save a lot of trouble.”
Amadiro shrugged it away. “Never mind that. The point is that the Settler ship is going back to its own planet.”
“With the Solarian woman and the robots?”
“Of course.”
“You’re sure of that? They haven’t been left on Solaria?”
“We’re sure of that,” said Amadiro impatiently. “Apparently, ‘the Solarian woman’ was responsible for their getting off the surface.”
“She? In what way?”
“We don’t yet know.”
Vasilia said, “It had to be Giskard. He made it appear to be the Solarian woman.”
“And what do we do now?”
“We must get Giskard back.”
“Yes, but I can’t very well persuade the Council to risk an interstellar crisis over the return of a robot.”
“You don’t, Kelden. You ask for the return of the Solarian woman, something we certainly have a right to request. And do you think for one moment she would return without her robots? Or that Giskard will allow the Solarian woman to return without him? Or that the Settler world would want to keep the robots if the Solarian woman returns? Ask for her. Firmly. She’s an Auroran citizen, lent out for a job on Solaria, which is done, and she must now be returned forthwith. Make it belligerent, as though it were a threat of war.”
“We can’t risk war, Vasilia.”
“You won’t risk it. Giskard can’t take an action that might lead directly to war. If the Settler leaders resist and become belligerent in their return, Giskard will perforce make the necessary modifications in the attitude of the Settler leaders so as to have the Solarian woman returned peaceably to Aurora. And he himself will, of course, have to return with her.”
Amadiro said drearily, “And once he’s back, he will alter us, I suppose, and we will forget his powers, and disregard him, and he will still be able to follow his own plan whatever it is.”
Vasilia leaned her head back and laughed. “Not a chance. I know Giskard, you see, and I can handle him. Just bring him back and persuade the Council to disregard Fastolfe’s will—it can be done and you can do it—and to assign Giskard to me. He will then be working for us; Aurora will rule the Galaxy, you will spend the remaining decades of your life as Chairman of the Council; and I will succeed you as the head of the Robotics Institute.”
“Are you sure it will work out that way?”
“Absolutely. Just send the message and make it strong and I will guarantee all the rest—victory for the Spacers, and ourselves, defeat for Earth and the Settlers.”
14. THE DUEL
65
Gladia watched Aurora’s globe on the screen. Its cloud cover seemed caught in mid-swirl along the thick crescent that was shining in the light of its sun.
“Surely we’re not that close,” she said.
D.G. smiled. “By no means. We’re seeing it through a rather good lens. It’s still several days away, counting the spiral approach. If we ever get an antigravitic drive, which the physicists keep dreaming about but seem helpless to bring about, spaceflight will become really simple and fast. As it is, our Jumps can only deliver us safely to a rather goodish distance from a planetary mass.”
“It’s odd,” said Gladia thoughtfully.
“What is, madam?”
“When we went to Solaria, I thought to myself. ‘I’m going home,’ but when I landed I found that I wasn’t home at all. Now we’re going to Aurora and I thought to myself, ‘Now I’m going home,’ and yet—that world down there isn’t home, either.”
“Where is home, then, madam?”
“I’m beginning to wonder.—But why do you persist in calling me ‘madam’?”
D.G. looked surprised. “Do you prefer ‘Lady Gladia,’ Lady Gladia?”