The Naked Sun

“But I don’t need all this,” said Baley. He had the urge to sit down and refuse to budge. He wanted to see no more rooms.

“We can remain in one room if you so desire, Partner Elijah. That was visualized as a possibility from the start. Nevertheless, Solarian customs being what they are, it was considered wiser to allow this house to be built—”

“Built!” Baley stared. “You mean this was built for me? All this? Specially?”

“A thoroughly roboticized economy—”

“Yes, I see what you’re going to say. What will they do with the house when all this is over?”

“I believe they will tear it down.”

Baley’s lips clamped together. Of course! Tear it down! Build a tremendous structure for the special use of one Earthman and then tear down everything he touched. Sterilize the soil the house stood on! Fumigate the air he breathed! The Spacers might seem strong, but they, too, had their foolish fears.

Daneel seemed to read his thoughts, or to interpret his expression at any rate. He said, “It may appear to you, Partner Elijah, that it is to escape contagion that they will destroy the house. If such are your thoughts, I suggest that you refrain from making yourself uncomfortable over the matter. The fear of disease on the part of Spacers is by no means so extreme. It is just that the effort involved in building the house is, to them, very little. Nor does the waste involved in tearing it down once more seem great to them.

“And by law, Partner Elijah, this place ca

“And who is Ha

“The head of Solarian security. We are to see him on arrival.”

“Are we? Jehoshaphat, Daneel, when do I begin to learn anything at all about anything? I’m working in a vacuum and I don’t like it. I might as well go back to Earth. I might as well—”

He felt himself working up into resentment and cut himself short.

Daneel never wavered. He merely waited his chance to speak. He said, “I regret the fact that you are a

“Well, then, let’s get to this Gruer. How long a trip will it be?” Baley winced at the thought of more travel and the familiar constriction in his chest was making itself felt again.

Daneel said, “No travel is necessary, Partner Elijah. Agent Gruer will be waiting for us in the conversation room.”

“A room for conversation, too?” Baley murmured wryly. Then, in a louder voice, “Waiting for us now?”

“I believe so.”

“Then let’s get to him, Daneel!”

Ha

Baley swallowed and tried, out of politeness, to keep his eyes off that skull, but couldn’t. On Earth there was the continuous acceptance of Spacers at the Spacers’ own evaluation: The Spacers were the unquestioned lords of the Galaxy; they were tall, bronze of skin and hair, handsome, large, cool, aristocratic.

In short, they were all R. Daneel Olivaw was, but with the fact of humanity in addition.

And the Spacers who were sent to Earth often did look like that; perhaps were deliberately chosen for that reason.

But here was a Spacer who might have been an Earthman for all his appearance. He was bald. And his nose was misshapen, too. Not much, to be sure, but on a Spacer even a slight asymmetry was noteworthy.

Baley said, “Good afternoon, sir. I am sorry if we kept you waiting.”

No harm in politeness. He would have to work with these people. He had the momentary urge to step across the expanse of room (how ridiculously large) and offer his hand in greeting. It was an urge easy to fight off. A Spacer certainly would not welcome such a greeting: a hand covered with Earthly germs?

Gruer sat gravely, as far away from Baley as he could get, his

hands resting within long sleeves, and probably there were filters in his nostrils, although Baley couldn’t see them.

It even seemed to him that Gruer cast a disapproving look at Daneel as though to say: You’re a queer Spacer, standing that close to an Earthman.

That would mean Gruer simply did not know the truth. Then Baley noticed suddenly that Daneel was standing at some distance, at that; farther than he usually did.

Of course! Too close, and Gruer might find the proximity unbelievable. Daneel was intent on being accepted as human.

Gruer spoke in a pleasant, friendly voice, but his eyes tended to remain furtively on Daneel; looking away, then drifting back. He said, “I haven’t been waiting long. Welcome to Solaria, gentlemen. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, sir. Quite,” said Baley. He wondered if etiquette would require that Daneel as the “Spacer” should speak for the two, but rejected that possibility resentfully. Jehoshaphat! It was he, himself, who had been requested for the investigation and Daneel had been added afterward. Under the circumstances Baley felt he would not play the secondary to a genuine Spacer; it was out of the question when a robot was involved, even such a robot as Daneel.

But Daneel made no attempt to take precedence over Baley, nor did Gruer seem surprised or displeased at that. Instead, he turned his attention at once to Baley to the exclusion of Daneel.

Gruer said, “You have been told nothing, Plainclothesman Baley, about the crime for which your services have been solicited. I imagine you are quite curious about that.” He shook his arms so that the sleeves fell backward and clasped his hands loosely in his lap. “Won’t you gentlemen sit down?”

They did so and Baley said, “We are curious.” He noted that Gruer’s hands were not protected by gloves.

Gruer went on. “That was on purpose, Plainclothesman. We wanted you to arrive here prepared to tackle the problem with a fresh mind. We wanted no preconceived notions. You will have available to you shortly a full report of the details of the crime and of the investigations we have been able to conduct. I am afraid, Plainclothesman, that you will find our investigations ridicu1ously incomplete from the standpoint of your own experience. We have no police force on Solaria.”

“None at all?” asked Baley.

Gruer smiled and shrugged. “No crime, you see. Our population is tiny and widely scattered. There is no occasion “for crime; therefore no occasion for police.”

“I see. But for all that, you do have crime now.”

“True, but the first crime of violence in two centuries of history.”

“Unfortunate, then, that you must begin with murder.”

“Unfortunate, yes. More unfortunately still, the victim was a man we could scarcely afford to lose. A most inappropriate victim. And the circumstances of the murder were particularly brutal.”

Baley said, “I suppose the murderer is completely unknown.” (Why else would the crime be worth the importation of an Earthly detective?)

Gruer looked particularly uneasy. He glanced sideways at Daneel, who sat motionless, an absorptive, quiet mechanism. Baley knew that Daneel would, at any time in the future, be able to reproduce any conversation he heard, of whatever length. He was a recording machine that walked and talked like a man.

Did Gruer know that? His look at Daneel had certainly something of the furtive about it.

Gruer said, “No, I ca