Robots and Empire

And then the other ship simply winked out of view, having jumped away, and D.G., with considerable chagrin, realized he was holding his breath and that his heart was racing. Had he had no confidence in the protecting influence of Earth or in his own sure diagnosis of the situation?

D.G. spoke into the transmitter in a voice that, with iron resolution, he forced into coolness. “Well done, men! Correct course and head for Earth.”

16. THE CITY

80

Gladia said, “Are you serious, D.G.? You really intended to collide with the ship?”

“Not at all,” said D.G. indifferently. “I wasn’t expecting to. I merely lunged at them, knowing they would retreat. Those Spacers weren’t going to risk their long, wonderful lives when they could easily preserve them.”

“Those Spacers? What cowards they are.”

D.G. cleared his throat. “I keep forgetting you’re a Spacer, Gladia.”

“Yes—and I imagine you think that that is a compliment to me. What if they had been as foolish as you—if they had shown the childish madness you think of as bravery and stayed in place? What would you have done?”

D.G. muttered, “Hit them.”

“And then we would all have died.”

“The transaction would have been in our favor, Gladia. One crummy old Trader ship from a Settler world for a new and advanced warship, of the leading Spacer world.”

D.G. tipped his chair back against the wall and put his hands behind his neck (amazing how comfortable he felt, now that it was all over). “I once saw a historical hyperdrama, in which, toward the end of the war, airplanes loaded with explosives were deliberately flown into much more expensive seaships in order to sink them. Of course, the pilot of each airplane lost his life.”

“That was fiction,” said Gladia. “You don’t suppose civilized people do things like that in real life, do you?”

“Why not? If the cause is good enough.”

“What was it, then, you felt as you plunged toward a glorious death? Exaltation? You were hurtling all your crew toward the same death.”

“They knew about it. We could do nothing else. Earth was watching.”

“The people on Earth didn’t even know.”

“I mean it metaphorically. We were in Earth space. We could not act ignobly.”

“Oh, what nonsense! And you risked my life, too.”

D.G. looked down at his boots. “Would you like to hear something crazy? That was the only thing that bothered me.”

“That I would die?”

“Not quite. That I would lose you.—When that ship ordered me to give you up, I knew I wouldn’t—even if you asked me to. I would gladly ram them instead; they couldn’t have you. And then, as I watched their ship expand in the viewscreen, I thought, “If they don’t get out of here, I’ll lose her anyway, and that’s when my heart started to pound and I began to sweat. I knew they’d run, and still the thought—” He shook his head.

Gladia frowned. “I don’t understand you. You weren’t worrying about my dying, but you were worried about losing me? Don’t the two go together?”

“I know. I’m not saying it’s rational. I thought of you rushing at the overseer to save me when you knew it could murder you with a blow. I thought of you facing the crowd at Baleyworld and talking them down when you had never even seen a crowd before. I even thought of you going to Aurora when you were a young woman and learning a new way of life—and surviving.—And it seemed to me I didn’t mind dying, I just minded losing you. You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”

Gladia said thoughtfully, “Have you forgotten my age? I was just about as old as I am now when you were born. When I was your age, I used to dream of your remote Ancestor. What’s more, I’ve got an artificial hip joint. My left thumb—this one right here”—she wiggled it—”is strictly prosthetic. Some of my nerves have been rebuilt. My teeth are all implanted ceramic. And you talk as though any moment you’re going to confess a transcendent passion. For what?—For whom?—Think, D.G.!—Look at me and see me as I am!”

D.G. tilted his chair back on two legs and rubbed at his beard with an odd scraping sound. “All right. You’ve made me sound silly, but I’m going to keep right on. What I know about your age is that you’re going to survive me and look scarcely any older when you do, so you’re younger than I am, not older. Besides, I don’t care if you are older. What I would like is for you to stay with me wherever I go—for all my life, if possible.”

Gladia was about to speak, but D.G. intervened hastily, “Or, if it seems more convenient, for me to stay with you wherever you go—for all my life, if possible.—If it’s all right with you.”

Gladia said softly, “I’m a Spacer. You’re a Settler.”

“Who cares, Gladia? Do you?”

“I mean, there’s no question of children. I’ve had mine.”

“What difference does that make to me! There’s no danger of the name Baley dying out.”

“I have a task of my own. I intend to bring peace to the Galaxy.”

“I’ll help you.”

“And your trading? Will you give up your chance to be rich?”

“We’ll do some together. Just enough to keep my crew happy and to help me support you in your task as peacebringer.”

“Life will be dull for you, D.G.”

“Will it? It seems to me that since you joined me it’s been too exciting.”

“And you’ll probably insist on my giving up my robots.”

D.G. looked distressed. “Is that why you’ve been trying to talk me out of this? I wouldn’t mind your keeping the two of them—even Daneel and his small lecherous smile but if we’re going to live among Settlers—”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to try to find the courage to do it.”

She laughed, gently and so did D.G. He held out his arms to her and she placed her hands in his.

She said, “You’re mad. I’m mad. But everything has been so strange since the evening I looked up at the sky in Aurora and, tried to find Solaria’s sun that I suppose being mad is the only possible response to things.”

“What you’ve just said isn’t only mad,” said D.G., “it’s crazy, but that’s the way I want you to be.” He hesitated. “No, I’ll wait. I’ll shave my beard before I try to kiss you. That will lower the chances of infection.”

“No, don’t! I’m curious about how it might feel.”

And she promptly found out.

81

Commander Lisiform strode back and forth across the length of his cabin. He said, “There was no use losing the ship. No use at all.”

His political adviser sat quietly in his chair. His eyes did not bother to follow the agitated and rapid to-and-fro movement of the other. “Yes, of course,” he said.

“What have the barbarians to lose? They only live a few decades, in any case. Life means nothing to them.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Still, I’ve never seen or heard of a Settler ship doing that. It may be a new—fanatical tactic and we have no defense against it. What if they send drone ships against us, with shields up and full momentum but no human beings aboard?”

“We might robotify our ships entirely.”

“That wouldn’t help. We couldn’t afford to lose the ship. What we need is the shield knife they keep talking about. Something that will slice through a shield.”

“Then they’ll develop one, too, and we will have to devise a knife-proof shield, and so will they, and it will be a standoff again at a higher level.”

“We need something completely new, then.”

“Well,” said the adviser, “maybe something will turn up. Your mission wasn’t primarily the matter of the Solarian woman and her robots, was it? It would have been pleasant if we could have forced them out of the Settler ship, but that was secondary, wasn’t it?”

“The Council isn’t going to like it, just the same.”

“It’s my job to take care of that. The important fact is that Amadiro and Mandamus left the ship and are on their way to Earth in a good speedy ferry.”