“You are undoubtedly right in this, friend Giskard. The captain has, in our hearing, spoken of Earth, on occasion, in a reverential manner. Since Earth cannot truly influence the success of an action through any mystical influence, it is quite possible to suppose that your influence was indeed successfully exerted. And moreover—”
Giskard, his eyes glowing dimly, said, “Of what are you thinking, friend Daneel?”
“I have been thinking of the supposition that the individual human being is concrete while humanity is abstract. When you detected that faint hum from the Auroran ship, you were not detecting an individual, but a portion of humanity. Could you not, if you were at a proper distance from Earth and if the background noise were sufficiently small, detect the hum of the mental activity of Earth’s human population, overall? And, extending that, can one not imagine that in the Galaxy generally there is the hum of the mental activity of all of humanity? How, then, is humanity an abstraction? It is something you can point to. Think of that in connection with the Zeroth Law and you will see that the extension of the Laws of Robotics is a justified one—justified by your own experience.”
There was a long pause and finally Giskard said, slowly as though it were being dragged out of him, “You may be right friend Daneel.—And yet, if we are landing on Earth now, with a Zeroth Law we may be able to use, we still don’t know how we might use it. It seems to us, so far, that the crisis that Earth faces involves the use of a nuclear intensifier, but as far as we know, there is nothing of significance on Earth on which a nuclear intensifier can do its work. What, then, will we do on Earth?”
“I do not as yet know,” said Daneel sadly.
83
Noise!
Gladia listened in astonishment. It didn’t hurt her ears. It wasn’t the sound of surface slashing on surface. It wasn’t a piercing shriek, or a clamor, or a banging, or—anything that could be expressed by an onomatopoetic word.
It was softer and less overwhelming, rising and falling, bearing within it an occasional irregularity—and always there.
D.G. watched her listening, cocking her head to this side and that, and said, “I call it the ‘Drone of the City,’ Gladia.
“Does it ever stop?”
“Never, really, but what can you expect? Haven’t you ever stood in a field and heard the wind rustling the leaves and insects stridulating and birds calling, and water running. That never stops.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s the same. The sound here is the melting together of the rumble of machinery and the various noises people make, but the principle is precisely the same as the natural nonhuman noises of a field. You’re used to fields, so you don’t hear the noise there. You’re not used to this, so you hear it and probably find it annoying. Earthpeople don’t hear it except on the rare occasions when they come fresh in from the countryside—and then they are very glad indeed to greet it. Tomorrow you won’t hear it either.”
Gladia looked about thoughtfully from their position on a small balcony. “So many buildings!”
“That’s true enough. Structures in every direction stretching outward for miles. And up—and down, too. This is not just a city, in the fashion of Aurora or Baleyworld. It is a City—capital ‘C’—of the kind that exists only on Earth.”
“These are the Caves of Steel,” said Gladia. “I know. We’re underground, aren’t we?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I must tell you that it took me time to get used to this sort of thing the first time I visited Earth. Wherever you go in a City, it looks like a crowded city scene. Walkways and roadways and storefronts and mobs of people, with the soft and universal lights of fluorescents making everything seem bathed in soft shadowless sunshine—but it isn’t sunshine and, up above the surface, I don’t know if the sun is really shining at the moment, or is covered by clouds, or is absent altogether, leaving this part of the world plunged in night and darkness.”
“It makes the City enclosed. People breathe each other’s air.”
“We do anyway—on any world—anywhere.”
“Not like this.” She sniffed. “It smells.”
“Every world smells. Every City on Earth smells differently. You’ll get used to it.”
“Do I want to? Why don’t people suffocate?”
“Excellent ventilation.”
“What happens when it breaks down?”
“It never does.”
Gladia looked about again and said. “Every building seems loaded with balconies.”
“It’s a sign of status. Very few people have apartments facing out and if they do have one they want the advantage of it. Most Citypeople live inside windowless apartments.”
Gladia shuddered, “Horrible! What’s the name of this City, D.G.?”
“It’s New York. It’s the chief City, but not the largest. On this continent, Mexico City and Los Angeles are the largest and there are Cities larger than New York on other continents.”
“What makes New York the chief City, then?”
“The usual reason. The Global Government is located here. The United Nations.”
“Nations?” She pointed her finger triumphantly at D.G. “Earth was divided into several independent political units. Right?”
“Right. Dozens of them. But that was before hyperspatial. Travel prehyper times. The name remains, though. That’s what’s wonderful about Earth. It’s frozen history. Every other world is new and shallow. Only Earth is humanity in its essence.”
D.G. said it in a hushed whisper and then retreated back into the room. It was not a large one and its furnishings were skimpy.
Gladia said, disappointed, “Why isn’t there anyone about?”
D.G. laughed. “Don’t worry, dear. If it’s parades and attention you want, you’ll have them. It’s just that I asked them to leave us alone for a while. I want a little peace and rest and I imagine you do, too. As for my men, they have to berth the ship, clean it up, renew supplies, tend to their devotions—”
“Women?”
“No, that’s not what I mean, though I suppose women will play a role later. By devotions, I mean that Earth still has its religions and these comfort the men somehow. Here on Earth, anyway. It seems to have more meaning here.”
“Well,” said Gladia half-contemptuously. “Frozen history, as you say.—Do you suppose we can get out of the building and walk about a bit?”
“Take my advice, Gladia, and don’t jump into that sort of thing just now. You’ll get plenty of it when the ceremonies begin.”
“But that will be so formal. Could we skip the ceremonies?”
“No chance at all. Since you insisted on making yourself a heroine on Baleyworld, you’ll have to be one on Earth as well. Still, the ceremonies will be through eventually. When you recover from them, we will get a guide and we’ll really see the City.”
“Will we have any trouble taking my robots with us?” She gestured toward Daneel and Giskard at the other end of the room. “I don’t mind being without them when I’m with you on the ship, but if I’m going to be with crowds of strangers I’ll feel more secure having them with me.”
“There’ll be no problem with Daneel, certainly. He’s a hero in his own right. He was the Ancestor’s partner and he passes for human. Giskard, who is an obvious robot, should, in theory, not be allowed inside the City borders, but they’ve made an exception in his case and I hope they will continue to do so. It is too bad, in a way, that we must wait here and can’t step outside.”