Robots and Empire (Page 73)

Gladia felt uncomfortably torn. She did not want to be a Spacer; she wanted to be a human being and forget what she had just called "nonessential distinctions." And yet when D.G. spoke with obvious satisfaction of forcing Aurora into a humiliating position, she found herself still somehow a Spacer.

She said in annoyance, "I presume the Settler worlds are at odds among themselves, too. Is it not each Settler world for itself?"

D.G. shook his head. "It may seem to you that this must be so and I wouldn’t be surprised if each individual Settler world had the impulse at times to put its own interest over the good of the whole, but we have something you Spacers lack."

"And what is that. A greater nobility?"

"Of course not. We’re no more noble than Spacers are. What we’ve got is the Earth. It’s our world. Every Settler visits Earth as often as he can. Every Settler knows that there is a world, a large, advanced world, with an incredibly rich history and cultural variety and ecological complexity that is his or hers and to which he or she belongs. The Settler worlds might quarrel with each other, but the quarrel cannot possibly result in violence or in a permanent breach of relations, for the Earth government is automatically called in to mediate all problems and its decision is sufficient and unquestioned.

"Those are our three advantages, Gladia: the lack of robots, something that allows us to build new worlds with our own hands; the rapid succession of generations, which makes for constant change; and, most of all, the Earth, which gives us our central core."

Gladia said urgently, "But the Spacers – " and she stopped.

D.G. smiled and said with an edge of bitterness, "Were you going to say that the Spacers are also descended from Earthpeople and that it is their planet, too? Factually true, but psychologically false. The Spacers have done their best to deny their heritage. They don’t consider themselves Earthmen once-removed – or any-number-removed. If I were a mystic, I would say that by cutting themselves away from their roots, the Spacers cannot survive long. Of course, I’m not a mystic so I don’t put it that way – but they cannot survive long, just the same. I believe that."

Then, after a short pause, he added, with a somewhat troubled – kindness, as though he realized that in his exultation he was striking a sensitive spot within her, "But please think of yourself as a human being, Gladia, rather than as a Spacer, and I will think of myself as a human being, rather than as a Settler. Humanity will survive, whether it will be in the form of Settlers or Spacers or both. I believe it will be in the form of Settlers only, but I may be wrong."

"No," said Gladia, trying to be unemotional. "I think you’re right – unless somehow people learn to stop making the Spacer/Settler distinction. It is my goal – to help people do that."

"However," said D.G., glancing at the dim time strip that circled the wall, "I delay your dinner. May I eat with you?"

"Certainly," said Gladia.

D.G. rose to his feet. "Then I’ll go get it. I’d send Daneel or Giskard, but I don’t ever want to get into the habit of ordering robots about. Besides, however much the crew adores you, I don’t think their adoration extends to your robots."

Gladia did not actually enjoy the meal when D.G. brought it. She did not seem to grow accustomed to the lack of subtlety in its flavors that might be the heritage of Earth cooking of yeast for mass consumption, but then, neither was it particularly repulsive. She ate stolidly.

D.G., noting her lack of enthusiasm, said, "The food doesn’t upset you, I hope?"

She shook her head. "No. Apparently, I’m acclimated. I had some unpleasant episodes when I first got on the ship, but nothing really severe."

"I’m glad of that, but, Gladia – "

"Yes?"

"Can you suggest no reason why the Auroran government should want you back so urgently? It can’t be your handling of the overseer and it can’t be your speech. The request was sent out well before they could have known of either."

"In that case, D.G.," Gladia said sadly, "they can’t possibly want me for anything. They never have."

"But there must be something. As I told you, the message arrived in the name of the Chairman of the Council of Aurora."

"This particular Chairman at this particular time is thought to be rather a figurehead."

"Oh? Who stands behind him? Kelden Amadiro?"

"Exactly. You know of him, then."

"Oh, yes," said D.G. grimly, "the center of anti-Earth fanaticism. The man who was politically smashed by Dr. Fastolfe twenty decades ago survives to threaten us again. There’s an example of the dead hand of longevity."

"But there’s the puzzle, too." Gladia said. "Amadiro is a vengeful man. He knows that it was Elijah Baley who was the cause of that defeat you speak of and Amadiro believes I shared responsibility. His dislike – extreme dislike – extends to me. If the Chairman wants me, that can only be because Amadiro wants me – and why should Amadiro want me? He would rather get rid of me. That’s probably why he sent me along with you to Solaria. Surely he expected your ship would be destroyed – and me along with it. And that would not have pained him at all."

"No uncontrollable tears, eh?" said D.G. thoughtfully.

"But surely that’s not what you were told. No one said to you, ‘Go with this mad Trader because it would give us pleasure to have you killed.’"

"No. They said that you wanted my help badly and that it was politic to cooperate with the Settler worlds at the moment and that it would do Aurora a great deal of good if I would report back to them on all that occurred on Solaria once I returned."