Gladia nodded, then said, “And yet there are rules that govern human reactions, too certain instincts, drives, teachings.”
“So friend Giskard thinks, madam.”
“Does he now?”
“But he finds them too complicated to analyze. He wonders if there might someday be developed a system of analyzing human behavior in mathematical detail and of deriving—from that—cogent Laws that would express the rules of that behavior.”
“I doubt it,” said Gladia.
“Nor is friend Giskard sanguine. He thinks it will be a very long time before such a system is developed.”
“A very long time, I should say.”
“And now,” said Daneel, “we are approaching the Earth ship and we must carry through the docking procedure, which is not simple.”
7
It seemed to Gladia that it took longer to dock than to move into the Earth ship’s orbit in the first place, Daneel remained calm throughout—but, then, he could not do otherwise—and assured her that all human ships could dock with each other regardless of difference in size and make.
“Like human beings,” said Gladia, forcing a smile, but Daneel made no response to that. He concentrated on the delicate adjustments that had to be made. Docking was always possible, perhaps, but not always easy, it would appear.
Gladia grew uneasier by the moment. Earthmen were short-lived and aged quickly. Five years had passed since she had seen Elijah. By how much would he have aged? How would he appear? Would she be able to keep from looking shocked or horrified at the change?
Whatever his appearance, he would still be the Elijah to whom her gratitude could know no bounds.
Was that what it was? Gratitude?
She noticed that her hands were tightly entwined with each other, so that her arms were aching. It was only with an effort that she could force them to relax.
She knew when docking was completed. The Earth ship was large enough to have a pseudo-gravitation field generator and, at the moment of docking, the field expanded to include the small yacht. There was a slight rotational effect as the direction toward the floor suddenly became “down” and Gladia experienced a sickening drop of two inches. Her knees bent under the impact in lopsided fashion and she fell against the wall.
She straightened with a little difficulty and was annoyed with herself for not having anticipated the change and been ready for it.
Daneel said unnecessarily, “We have docked, Madam Gladia. Partner Elijah asks permission to come aboard.”
“Of course, Daneel.”
There was a whirring sound and a portion of the wall swirled into dilation. A crouching figure moved through and the wall tightened and contracted behind it.
The figure straightened and Gladia whispered, “Elijah!” and felt overwhelmed with gladness and relief. It seemed to her that his hair was grayer, but otherwise it was Elijah. There was no other noticeable change, no marked aging after all.
He smiled at her and, for a moment, seemed to devour her with his eyes. Then he lifted one forefinger, as though to say, “Wait,” and walked toward Daneel.
“Daneel!” He seized the robot’s shoulders and shook him.
“You haven’t changed. Jehoshaphat! You’re the constant in all our lives.”
“Partner Elijah. It is good to see you.”
“It is good to hear myself called partner again and I wish that were so. This is the fifth time I have seen you, but the first time that I do not have a problem to solve. I am not even a plainclothesman any longer. I have resigned and I am now an immigrant to one of the new worlds.—Tell me, Daneel, why didn’t you come with Dr. Fastolfe when he visited Earth three years ago?”
“That was Dr. Fastolfe’s decision. He decided to take Giskard.”
“I was disappointed, Daneel.”
“It would have been pleasant for me to see you, Partner Elijah, but Dr. Fastolfe told me afterward that the trip had been highly successful, so that perhaps his decision was the correct one.”
“It was successful, Daneel. Before the visit, the Earth government was reluctant to cooperate in the Settlement procedure, but now the whole planet is pulsing and heaving and, by the million, people are anxious to go. We don’t have the ships to accommodate them all—even with Auroran help—and we don’t have the worlds to receive them all, for every world must be adjusted. Not one will accommodate a human community unchanged. The one I’m going to is low in free oxygen and we’re going to have to live in domed towns for a generation while Earth-type vegetation spreads over the planet.” His eyes were turning more and more often to Gladia as she sat there smiling.
Daneel said, “It is to be expected. From what I have learned of human history, the Spacer worlds also went through a period of terraforming.”
“They certainly did! And thanks to that experience, the process can be carried through more rapidly now.—But I wonder if you would remain in the pilot room for a while, Daneel. I must speak to Gladia.”
“Certainly, Partner Elijah.”
Daneel stepped through the arched doorway that led into the pilot room and Baley looked at Gladia in a questioning way and made a sideways motion with his hand.
Understanding perfectly, she walked over and touched the contact that drew the partition noiselessly across the doorway. They were, to all intents, alone.
Baley held out his hands. “Gladia!”
She took them in hers, never even thinking she was ungloved. She said, “Had Daneel stayed with us, he would not have hampered us.”
“Not physically. He would have psychologically!” Baley smiled sadly and said, “Forgive me, Gladia. I had to speak to Daneel first.”
“You’ve known him longer,” she said softly. “He takes precedence.”
“He doesn’t—but he has no defenses. If you are annoyed with me, Gladia, you can punch me in the eye if you want to. Daneel can’t. I can ignore him, order him away, treat him as though he were a robot, and he would be compelled to obey and be the same loyal and uncomplaining partner.”
“The fact is that he is a robot, Elijah.”
“Never to me, Gladia. My mind knows he is a robot and has no feelings in the human fashion, but my heart considers him human and I must treat him so. I would ask Dr. Fastolfe to let me take Daneel with me, but no robots are allowed on the new Settler worlds.”
“Would you dream of taking me with you, Elijah?”
“No Spacers, either.”
“It seems you Earthmen are as unreasoningly exclusive as we Spacers are.”
Elijah nodded glumly. “Madness on both sides. But even if we were sane, I would not take you. You could not stand the life and I’d never be sure that your immune mechanisms would build up properly. I’d be afraid that you would either die quickly of some minor infection or that you would live too long and watch our generations die. Forgive me, Gladia.”
“For what, dear Elijah?”
“For—this.” He put out his hands, palms upward, to either side. “For asking to see you.”
“But I’m glad you did. I wanted to see you.”
He said, “I know. I tried not to see you, but the thought of being in space and of not stopping at Aurora tore me apart. And yet it does no good, Gladia. It just means another leave-taking and that will tear me apart, too. It is why I have never written you, why I have never tried to reach you by hyperwave. Surely you must have wondered.”
“Not really. I agree with you that there was no point. It would merely make it all infinitely harder. Yet I wrote to you many times.”
“You did? I never received one letter.”
“I never mailed one letter. Having written them, I destroyed them.”
“But why?”
“Because, Elijah, no private letter can be sent from Aurora to Earth without passing through the hands of the censor and I wrote you not one letter that I was willing to let the censors see. Had you sent me a letter, I assure you that not one would have gotten through to me, however innocent it might have been. I thought that was why I never received a letter. Now that I know you weren’t aware of the situation, I am extraordinarily glad that you were not so foolish as to try to remain in touch with me. You would have misunderstood my never answering your letters.”