The Naked Sun

“Were you told in advance anything about him other than his papers? Was he described to you?”

“No, sir. I was given his name, however.”

“Who gave you the information?”

“The captain of the ship, sir.”

“Who is a Solarian?”

“Yes, sir.”

Baley licked his lips. The next question would be decisive.

He said, “What were you told would be the name of the one you were expecting?”

RX-2475 said, “Daneel Olivaw, sir.”

“Good boy! You may leave now.”

There was the robotic bow and then the sharp about—face. RX-2475 left.

Baley turned to his partner and said thoughtfully, “You are not telling me all the truth, Daneel.”

“In what way, Partner Elijah?” asked Daneel.

“While I was talking to you earlier, I recalled an odd point. RX-2475, when it told me I would have an escort said a man would come for me. I remember that quite well.”

Daneel listened quietly and said nothing.

Baley went on. “I thought the robot might have made a mistake. I thought also that perhaps a man had indeed been assigned to meet me and had later been replaced by you, RX-2475 not being informed of the change. But you heard me check that. Your papers were described to it and it was given your name. But it was not quite given your name at that, was it, Daneel?”

“Indeed, it was not given my entire name,” agreed Daneel.

“Your name is not Daneel Olivaw, but R. Daneel Olivaw, isn’t it? Or, in full, Robot Daneel Olivaw.”

“You are quite correct, Partner Elijah.”

“From which it all follows that RX-2475 was never informed that you are a robot. It was allowed to think of you as a man. With your manlike appearance, such a masquerade is possible, “I have no quarrel with your reasoning.”

“Then let’s proceed.” Baley was feeling the germs of a kind of savage delight. He was on the trace of something. It couldn’t be anything much, but this was the kind of tracking he could do well. It was something he could do well enough to be called half across space to do. He said, “Now why should anyone want to deceive a miserable robot? It doesn’t matter to it whether you are man or robot. It follows orders in either case. A reasonable conclusion then is that the Solarian captain who informed the robot and the Solarian officials who informed the Captain did not themselves know you were a robot. As I say, that is one reasonable conclusion, but perhaps not the only one. Is this one true?”

“I believe it is.”

“All right, then. Good guess. Now why? Dr. Han Fastolfe, in recommending you as my partner allows the Solarians to think you are a human. Isn’t that a dangerous thing? The Solarians, if they find out, may be quite angry. Why was it done?”

The humanoid robot said, “It was explained to me thus, Partner Elijah. Your association with a human of the Outer Worlds would raise your status in the eyes of the Solarians. Your association with a robot would lower it. Since I was familiar with your ways and could work with you easily, it was thought reasonable to allow the Solarians to accept me as a man without actually deceiving them by a positive statement to that effect.”

Baley did not believe it. It seemed like the kind of careful consideration for an Earthman’s feelings that did not come naturally to a Spacer, not even to as enlightened a one as Fastolfe.

He considered an alternative and said, “Are the Solarians well known among the Outer Worlds for the production of robots?”

“I am glad,” said Daneel, “that you have been briefed concerning the i

“Not a word,” said Baley. “I can guess the spelling of the word Solaria and there my knowledge stops.”

“Then I do not see, Partner Elijah, what it was that impelled you to ask that question, but it is a most pertinent one. You have hit the mark. My mind-store of information includes the fact that, of the fifty Outer Worlds, Solaria is by far the best known for the variety and excellence of robot models it turns out. It exports specialized models to all the other Outer Worlds.”

Baley nodded in grim satisfaction. Naturally Daneel did not follow an intuitive mental leap that used human weakness as a starting point. Nor did Baley feel impelled to explain the reasoning. If Solaria turned out to be a world expert in robotics, Dr. Han Fastolfe and his associates might have purely personal and very human motives for demonstrating their own prize robot. It would have nothing at all to do with an Earthman’s safety or feelings.

They would be asserting their own superiority by allowing the expert Solarians to be fooled into accepting a robot of Auroran handiwork as a fellow-man.

Baley felt much better. Strange that all the thought, all the intellectual powers he could muster, could not succeed in lifting him out of panic; and yet a sop to his own vainglory succeeded at once.

The recognition of the vainglory of the Spacers helped too.

He thought: Jehoshaphat, we’re all human; even the Spacers.

Aloud he said, almost flippantly, “How long do we have to wait for the ground-car? I’m ready.”

The air-tube gave signs of not being well adapted to its present use. Man and humanoid stepped out of the spaceship erect, moving along flexible mesh that bent and swayed under their weight. (In space, Baley imagined hazily, men transferring weightlessly from ship to ship might easily skim along the length of the tube, impelled by an initial Jump.)

Toward the other end the tube narrowed clumsily, its meshing bunching as though some giant hand had constricted it. Daneel, carrying the flashlight, got down on all fours and so did Baley. They traveled the last twenty feet in that fashion, moving at last into what was obviously a ground-car.

Daneel closed the door through which they had entered, sliding it shut carefully. There was a heavy, clicking noise that might have been the detachment of the air-tube.

Baley looked about curiously. There was nothing too exotic about the ground-car. There were two seats in tandem, each of which could hold three. There were doors at each end of each seat. The glossy sections that might ordinarily have been windows were black and opaque, as a result, undoubtedly, of appropriate polarization. Baley was acquainted with that.

The interior of the car was lit by two round spots of yellow illumination in the ceiling and, in short, the only thing Baley felt to be strange was the transmitter set into the partition immediately before the front seat and, of course, the added fact that there were no visible controls.

Baley said, “I suppose the driver is on the other side of this partition.”

Daneel said, “Exactly so, Partner Elijah. And we can give our orders in this fashion.” He leaned forward slightly and flicked a toggle switch that set a spot of red light to flickering. He said quietly, “You may start now. We are ready.”

There was a muted whir that faded almost at once, a very slight, very transitory pressing against the back of the seat, and then nothing.

Baley said in surprise, “Are we moving?”

Daneel said, “We are. The car does not move on wheels but glides along a diamagnetic force-field. Except for acceleration and deceleration, you will feel nothing.”

“What about curves?”

“The car will bank automatically to compensate. Its level is maintained when traveling up—or downhill.”

“The controls must be complicated,” said Baley dryly.

“Quite automatic. The driver of the vehicle is a robot.”

“Umm.” Baley had about all he wanted on the ground-car. He said, “How long will this take?”

“About an hour. Air travel would have been speedier, but I was concerned to keep you enclosed and the aircraft models available on Solaria do not lend themselves to complete enclosure as does a ground-car such as that in which we are now riding.”

Baley felt a