Robots and Empire

78

“Well?” said D.G. gravely.

Gladia looked distressed. Automatically, she looked toward Daneel and Giskard, but they remained silent and motionless.

She said, “I don’t want to return to Aurora, D.G. They can’t possibly want to destroy Giskard; he is in perfect working order, I assure you. That’s only a subterfuge. They want me for some reason. I suppose there’s no way they can be stopped, though, is there?”

D.G. said, “That’s an Auroran warship—and a big one. This is only a Trading vessel. We’ve got energy shields and they can’t just destroy us at a blow, but they can wear us down eventually—quite soon, in fact—and then destroy us.”

“Is there any way you can strike at them?”

“With my weapons? I’m sorry, Gladia, but their shields can take anything I can throw at them for as long as I can possibly have energy to expend. Besides—”

“Yes?”

“Well, they’ve just about cornered me. Somehow I thought they would try to intercept me before I Jumped, but they knew my destination and they got here first and waited for me. We’re inside the Solar System—the planetary system of which Earth is part. We can’t fight here. Even if I wanted to, the crew wouldn’t obey me.”

“Why not?”

“Call it superstition. The Solar System is holy space to us—if you want to describe it in melodramatic terms. We can’t desecrate it by fighting.”

Giskard said suddenly, “May I contribute to the discussion, sir?”

D.G. frowned and looked toward Gladia.

Gladia said, “Please. Let him. These robots are highly intelligent. I know you find that hard to believe, but—”

“I’ll listen. I don’t have to be influenced.”

Giskard said, “Sir, I am certain that it is me that they want. I ca

“No,” said Gladia forcefully. “You are mine and I won’t give you up. I’ll go with you—if the captain decides you must go—and I’ll see to it they don’t destroy you.”

“May I speak as well?” said Daneel.

D.G. spread his hands in mock-despair. “Please. Everyone speak.”

Daneel said, “If you decide you must give up Giskard, you must understand the consequences. I believe that Giskard thinks that if he is given up, those on the Auroran ship would do him no harm and that they will even release him. I do not believe this to be so. I believe the Aurorans are serious in thinking him to be dangerous and they may well have instructions to destroy the lifeboat as it approaches, killing whoever is on board.”

“For what reason would they do that?” asked D.G.

“No Auroran has ever encountered—or even conceived—of what they call a dangerous robot. They would take no chances of taking one on board one of their vessels.—I would suggest, Captain, that you retreat. Why not jump again, away from Earth? We are not close enough to any planetary mass to prevent that.”

“Retreat? You mean run away? I can’t do that.”

“Well, then, you have to give us up,” said Gladia with an air of resigned hopelessness.

D.G. said forcefully, “I’m not giving you up—And I’m not ru

“Then what’s left?” asked Gladia.

“A fourth alternative,” said D.G. “Gladia, I must ask you to remain here with your robots till I return.”

79

D.G. considered the data. There had been enough time during the conversation for the location of the Auroran vessel to be pinpointed. It was a bit farther from the sun than his own ship was and that was good. To Jump toward the sun, at this distance from it, would have been risky indeed; to Jump sideways would be, so to speak, a piece of cake in comparison. There was the chance of accident through probability deviation, but there was always that.

He had himself assured the crew that not a shot would be fired (which would do no good, in any case). Clearly, they had utter faith in Earth space protecting them as long as they didn’t profane its peace by offering violence. It was pure mysticism that D.G. would have scornfully derided had he not shared the conviction himself.

He moved back into focus. It had been a fairly long wait, but there had been no signal from the other side. They had shown exemplary patience.

“Captain Baley here,” he said. “I wish to speak to Commander Lisiform.”

There was not much of a wait. “Commander Lisiform here. May I have your answer?”

D.G. said, “We will deliver the woman and the two robots.”

“Good! A wise decision.”

“And we will deliver them as quickly as we can.”

“Again a wise decision.”

“Thank you.” D.G. gave the signal and his ship Jumped.

There was no time, no need, to hold one’s breath. It was over as soon as it was begun—or, at least, the time lapse was insensible.

The word came from the pilot. “New enemy ship position fixed, Captain.”

“Good,” said D.G. “You know what to do.”

The ship had come out of the Jump at high speed relative to the Auroran vessel and the course correction (not a great deal, it was to, be hoped) was being made. Then further acceleration.

D.G. moved back into focus, “We are close, Commander, and on our way to deliver. You may fire if you choose, but our shields are up and before you can batter them down we will have reached you in order to make the delivery.”

“Are you sending a lifeboat?” The commander moved out of focus.

D.G. waited and the commander was back, his face contorted. “What is this? Your ship is on a collision course.”

“It seems to be, yes,” said D.G. “That is the fastest way of making delivery.”

“You will destroy your ship.”

“And yours, too. Your ship is at least fifty times as expensive as mine, probably more. A poor exchange for Aurora.”

“But you are engaging in combat in Earth space, Captain. Your customs do not allow that.”

“Ah, you know our customs and you take advantage of them.—But I am not in combat. I have not fired an erg of energy and I won’t. I am merely following a trajectory. That trajectory happens to intersect your position, but since I am sure you will move before that intersection movement arrives, it is clear that I intend no violence.”

“Stop. Let’s talk about this.”

“I’m tired of talking, Commander. Shall we all say a fond farewell? If you don’t move, I will be giving up perhaps four decades with the third and fourth not so good, anyway. How many will you be giving up?” And D.G. moved out of focus and stayed out.

A beam of radiation shot out from the Auroran ship tentative, as though to test whether the other’s shields were truly up. They were.

Ship’s shields would hold against electromagnetic radiation and subatomic particles, including even neutrinos, and could withstand the kinetic energy of small masses—dust particles, even meteoric gravel. The shields could not withstand larger kinetic energies, such as that of an entire ship hurtling at it with supermeteoric speed.

Even dangerous masses, if not guided—a meteoroid, for instance—could be handled. A vessel’s computers would automatically veer the ship out of the way of any oncoming meteoroid that was too large for the shield to handle. That, however, would not work against a ship that could veer as its target veered. And if the Settler ship was the smaller of the two, it was also the more maneuverable.

There was only one way that the Auroran ship could avoid destruction—

D.G. watched the other ship visibly enlarging in his viewing panel and wondered if Gladia, in her cabin, knew what was going on. She must be aware of the acceleration, despite the hydraulic suspension of her cabin ~ and the compensatory action of the pseudo-gravity field.