Once the banquet began, they sat quietly at a table with D.G., not too far removed from the dais. At the dais, Gladia sat, eating sparingly and wondering if the food would give her dysentery.
D.G., perhaps not entirely pleased with his relegation to the post of keeper of the robots, kept staring restlessly in Gladia’s direction and, occasionally, she lifted one hand and smiled at him.
Giskard, equally watchful of Gladia, had an opportunity to say to Daneel very quietly, under cover of the relentless and unending background clash of cutlery and babble, “Friend Daneel, these are high officials that sit here in this room. It is possible that one or more may have information of use to us.”
“It is possible, friend Giskard. Can you, thanks to your abilities, guide me in this respect?”
“I cannot. The mental background yields me no specific emotional response of interest. Nor does the occasional flash among the nearest show me anything. Yet the climax of the crisis is, I am certain, approaching quickly, even as we sit here, idle.”
Daneel said gravely, “I will try to do as Partner Elijah would have done and force the pace.”
85
Daneel was not eating. He watched the assemblage with his calm eyes and located the one he was searching for. Quietly, he rose and moved toward another table, his eyes on a woman who was managing to eat briskly and yet maintain a cheerful conversation with the man on her left. She was a stocky woman, with short hair that showed definite traces of gray. Her face, if not youthful, was pleasant.
Daneel waited for a natural break in the conversation and when that did not come, he said with an effort, “Madam, may I interrupt?”
She looked up at him, startled and plainly displeased. “Yes,” she said rather briskly, “what is it?”
“Madam,” said Daneel, “I ask your pardon for this interruption, but may I have your permission to speak with you for a time?”
She stared at him, frowning for a moment, and then her expression softened. She said, “I should guess, from your excessive politeness, that you’re the robot, aren’t you?”
“I am one of Madam Gladia’s robots, madam.”
“Yes, but you’re the human one. You’re R. Daneel Olivaw.”
“That is my name, madam.”
The woman turned to the man on her left and said, “Please excuse me. I can’t very well refuse this—robot.”
Her neighbor smiled uncertainly and transferred his attention to the place before him.
The woman said to Daneel, “If you have a chair, why don’t you bring it here? I will be glad to speak to you.”
“Thank you, madam.”
When Daneel had returned and seated himself, she said, “You are really R. Daneel Olivaw, aren’t you?”
“That is my name, madam,” said Daneel, again.
“I mean the one who worked with Elijah Baley long ago. You’re not a new model of the same line? You’re not R. Daneel the Fourth or something like that?”
Daneel said, “Mere is little of me that has not been replaced in the past twenty decades—or even modernized and improved but my positronic brain is the same as it was when I worked with Partner Elijah on three different worlds—and once on a spaceship. It has not been altered.”
“Well!” She looked at—him admiringly. “You’re certainly a good job. If all robots were like you, I’d see no objection to them whatever.—What is it you want to talk to me about?”
“When you were introduced to Lady Gladia, madam, before we all took our seats, you were presented to her as the Undersecretary of Energy, Sophia Quintana.”
“You remember well. That is my name and my office.”
“Does the office refer to all of Earth or merely to the city?”
“I’m Global Undersecretary, I assure you.”
“Then you are knowledgeable in the field of energetics?”
Quintana smiled. She did not seem to object to being questioned. Perhaps she thought it amusing or perhaps she found herself attracted to Daneel’s air of deferential gravity or to the mere fact that a robot could question her so. In any case, she said with a smile, “I majored in energetics at the University of California and have a master’s degree in it. As to how knowledgeable I still am, I’m not certain. I’ve spent too many years as an administrator—something that saps one’s brains, I assure you.”
“But you would be well acquainted with the practical aspects of Earth’s present energy supply, would you not?”
“Yes. That I will admit to. Is there something you want to know about it?”
“There is something that piques my curiosity, madam.”
“Curiosity? In a robot?”
Daneel bowed his head. “If a robot is complex enough, he can be aware of something within himself that seeks information. This is analogous to what I have observed to be called ‘curiosity’ in human beings and I take the liberty of using the same word in connection with my own feelings.”
“Fair enough. What are you curious about, R. Daneel? May I call you that?”
“Yes, madam. I understand that Earth’s energy supply is drawn from solar power stations in geostationary orbit in Earth’s equatorial plane.”
“You understand correctly.”
“But are these power stations the sole energy supply of this planet?”
“No. They are the primary—but not the sole—energy supply. There is considerable use of energy from Earth’s internal heat, from winds, waves, tides, flowing water, and so on. We have quite a complex mix and each variety has its advantages. Solar energy is the mainstay, however.”
“You make no mention of nuclear energy, madam. Are there no uses for microfusion?”
Quintana raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you’re curious about, R. Daneel?”
“Yes, madam. What is the reason for the absence of nuclear power sources on Earth?”
“They are not absent, R. Daneel. On a small scale, one comes across it. Our robots—we have many in the countryside, you know—are micro fusionized. Are you, by the way?”
Daneel said, “Yes, madam.”
“Then, too,” she went on, “there are microfusionized machines here and there, but the total is quite trifling.”
“Is it not true, Madam Quintana, that microfusion energy sources are sensitive to the action of nuclear intensifiers?”
“They certainly are. Yes, of course. The microfusion power source will blow up and I suppose that comes under the heading of being sensitive.”
“Then it isn’t possible for someone, using a nuclear intensifier, to seriously cripple some crucial portion of Earth’s energy supply?”
Quintana laughed. “No, of course not. In the first place, I don’t see anyone dragging a nuclear intensifier about from place to place. They weigh tons and I don’t think they can be maneuvered through and along the streets and corridors of a City. Certainly, it would be noticed if anyone tried. And then, even if a nuclear intensifier were brought into play, all it could do would be to destroy a few robots and a few machines before the thing would be discovered and stopped. There is no chance at all—zero—of our being hurt in that way. Is that the reassurance you wanted, R. Daneel?”
It was almost a dismissal.
Daneel said, “There are just one or two small points I would like clarified, Madam Quintana. Why is there no large microfusion source on Earth? The Spacer worlds all depend on microfusion and so do all the Settler worlds. Microfusion is portable, versatile, and cheap—and doesn’t require the enormous effort of maintenance, repair, and replacement that space structures do.”
“And, as you said, R. Daneel, they are sensitive to nuclear intensifiers.”
“And, as you said, Madam Quintana, nuclear intensifiers are too large and bulky to be of much use.”