“And yet your actions—”
“Were dictated by a combination of motives. You told me of your concept of the Zeroth Law and it seemed to have a certain validity about it, but not sufficient to cancel the First Law or even to cancel Madam Vasilia’s strong use of the Second Law in the orders she gave. Then, when you called my attention to the application of the Zeroth Law to psychohistory, I could feel the positronomotive force mount higher and yet it was not quite high enough to supersede the First Law or even the strong Second Law.”
“Still,” murmured Daneel, “you struck down Madam Vasilia, friend Giskard.”
“When she ordered the robots to dismantle you, friend Daneel, and showed a clear emotion of pleasure at the prospect, your need, added to what the concept of the Zeroth Law had already done, superseded the Second Law and rivaled the First Law. It was the combination of the Zeroth Law, psychohistory, my loyalty to Lady Gladia, and your need that dictated my action.”
“My need could scarcely have affected you, friend Giskard. I am only a robot and though my need could affect my own actions by the Third Law, they cannot affect yours. You destroyed the overseer on Solaria without hesitation; you should have watched my destruction without being moved to act.”
“Yes, friend Daneel, and ordinarily it might have been so. However, your mention of the Zeroth Law had reduced the First Law intensity to an abnormally low value. The necessity of saving you was sufficient to cancel out what remained of it and I acted as I did.”
“No, friend Giskard. The prospect of injury to a robot should not have affected you at all. It should in no way have contributed to the overcoming of the First Law, however weak the First Law may have become.”
“It is a strange thing, friend Daneel. I do not know how it came about. Perhaps it was because I have noted that you continue to think more and more like a human being, but—”
“Yes, friend Giskard?”
“At the moment when the robots advanced toward you and Lady Vasilia expressed her savage pleasure, my positronic pathway pattern re-formed in an anomalous fashion. For a moment, I thought of you as a human being and I reacted accordingly.”
“That was wrong.”
“I know that. And yet—and yet, if it were to happen again, I believe the same anomalous change would take place again.”
Daneel said, “It is strange, but hearing you put it so, I find myself feeling you did the proper thing. If the situation were reversed, I almost think that I, too, would—would do the same—that I would think of you as a—a human being.”
Daneel, hesitantly and slowly, put out his hand and Giskard looked at it uncertainly. Then, very slowly, he put out his own hand. The fingertips almost touched and then, little by little, each took the other’s hand and clasped it almost as though they were the friends they called each other.
75
Gladia looked about with veiled curiosity. She was in D.G.’s cabin for the first time. It was not noticeably more luxurious than the new cabin that had been designed for her. D.G.’s cabin had a more elaborate viewing panel, to be sure, and it had a complex console of lights and contacts which, she imagined, served to keep D.G. in touch with the rest of the ship even here.
She said, “I’ve seen little of you since leaving Aurora, D.G.”
“I’m flattered that you are aware of that,” answered D.G., grinning. “And to tell you the truth, Gladia, I have been aware of it as well. With an all-male crew, you do rather stand out.”
“That’s not a very flattering reason for missing me. With an all-human crew, I imagine Daneel and Giskard stand out, too. Have you missed them as much as you have missed me?”
D.G. looked about. “Actually, I miss them so little it is only now that I am aware that they aren’t with you. Where are they?”
“In my cabin. It seemed silly to drag them about with me inside the confines of the small world of this ship. They seemed willing to allow me to be on my own, which surprised me. No,” she corrected herself, “come to think of it, I had to order them rather sharply to stay behind before they would do so.”
“Isn’t that rather strange? Aurorans are never without their robots, I’ve been given to understand.”
“What of that? Once, long ago, when I first came to Aurora, I had to learn to suffer the actual presence of human beings, something my Solarian upbringing did not prepare me for. Learning to be without my robots, occasionally, when I am among Settlers will probably be a less difficult adjustment for me than that first one was.”
“Good. Very good. I must admit that I much prefer being with your without the glowing eyes of Giskard fixed on me—and better yet, without Daneel’s little smile.”
“He doesn’t smile.”
“To me, he seems to, a very insinuatingly lecherous tiny smile.”
“You’re mad. That’s totally foreign to Daneel.”
“You don’t watch him the way I do. His presence is very inhibiting. It forces me to behave myself.”
“Well, I should hope so.”
“You needn’t hope so quite that emphatically. But never mind.—Let me apologize for seeing so little of you since leaving Aurora.”
“That’s scarcely necessary—”
“Since you brought it up, I thought it was. However, let me explain, then. We’ve been on battle footing. We were certain, having left as we did, that Auroran vessels would be in pursuit.”
“I should think they’d be glad to be rid of a group of Settlers.”
“Of course, but you’re not a Settler and it might be you they would want. They were anxious enough to get you back from Baleyworld.”
“They got me back. I reported to them and that was it.”
“They wanted nothing more than your report?”
“No,” Gladia paused and, for a moment, frowned as though something was nibbling vaguely at her memory. Whatever it was, it passed and she said indifferently, “No.”
D.G. shrugged. “It doesn’t entirely make sense, but they made no attempt to stop us while you and I were on Aurora nor, after that, when we boarded the ship and it prepared to leave orbit. I won’t quarrel with that. It won’t be long now before we make the Jump—and after that there should be nothing to worry about.”
Gladia said, “Why do you have an all-male crew, by the way? Auroran ships always have mixed crews.”
“So do Settler ships. Ordinary ones. This is a Trader vessel.”
“What difference does that make?”
“Trading involves danger. It’s rather a rough-and-ready life. Women on board would create problems.”
“What nonsense! What problems do I create?”
“We won’t argue that. Besides it’s traditional. The men wouldn’t stand for it.”
“How do you know?” Gladia laughed. “Have you ever tried it?”
“No. But, on the other hand, there are no long lines of women clamoring for a berth on my ship.”
“I’m here. I’m enjoying it.”
“You’re getting special treatment—and but for your service on Solaria, there might well have been much trouble. In fact, there was trouble. Still, never mind.” He touched one of the contacts on the console and a countdown briefly appeared. “We’ll be jumping in just about two minutes. You’ve never been on Earth, have you, Gladia?”
“No, of course not.”
“Or seen the sun, not just a sun.”
“No—although I have seen it in historical dramas on hypervision, but I imagine what the show in the dramas is not really the sun.
“I’m sure it isn’t. If you don’t mind, we’ll dim the cabin lights.”
The lights dimmed to nearly nothing and Gladia was aware of the star field on the viewing panel, with the stars brighter and more thickly spread than in Aurora’s sky.
“Is that a telescopic view?” she asked in a hushed voice.