Asimov, Isaac - Robot 3 - The Robots of Dawn.pdf - Isaac Asimov - Planetar81

ISAAC ASIMOV

The Robots of Dawn

DOUBLEDAY & COMPANY, INC.

GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Dedicated to Marvin Minsky and Joseph F. Engelberger, who

epitomize (respectively) the theory and practice of robotics.

Contents

Baley 1

Daneel

Giskard

Fastolfe

Daneel and Giskard 86

Gladia

119

Again Fastolfe 148

Fastolfe and Vasilia '7'

Vasiluz

191

Again Vasiuia

211

11 Gremionia 227

12 Again Gremionis

13 Amadiro 267

14 Again Amadiro 284

15 Again Daneel and Ciakard 31o

16 Again Gladia

332

17 The Chairman

18 Again the Chairman 369

19 Again Baley

390

The Robots of Dawn

Baley

Elijah Baley found himself in the shade of the tree and muttered

to himself, "I knew it. I'm sweating."

He paused, straightened up, wiped the perspiration from his

brow with the back of his hand, then looked dourly at the moisture

that covered it.

"I hate sweating," he said to no one, throwing it out as a cosmic

law. And once again he felt annoyance with the Universe for making

something both essential and unpleasant.

One never perspired (unless one wished to, of course) in the

City, where temperature and humidity were absolutely controlled and

where it was never absolutely necessary for the body to perform in

ways that made heat production greater than heat removal.

Now that was civilized.

He looked out into the field, where a straggle of men and

women were, more or less, in his charge. They were mostly

youngsters in their late teens, but included some middle-aged people

like himself. They were hoeing inexpertly and doing a variety of other

things that robots were designed to do-and could do much more

efficiently had they not been ordered to stand aside and Wait while

the human beings stubbornly practiced.

There were clouds in the sky and the sun, at the moment, was

going behind one of them. He looked up uncertainly. On the one hand,

it meant the direct heat of the sun (and the sweating) would be cut

down. On the other hand, was there a chance of rain?

That was the trouble with the Outside. One teetered forever

between unpleasant alternatives.

It always amazed Baley that a relatively small cloud could cover

the sun completely, darkening Earth from horizon to horizon yet

leaving most of the sky blue.

He stood beneath the leafy canopy of the tree (a kind of

primitive wall and ceiling, with the solidity of the bark comforting to

the touch) and looked again at the group, studying it. Once a week

they were out there, whatever the weather.

They were gaining recruits, too. They were definitely more in

number than the stout-hearted few who had started out. The City

government, if not an actual partner in the endeavor, was benign

enough to raise no obstacles.

To the horizon on Baley's right-eastward, as one could tell by

the position of the late-afternoon sun-he could see the blunt, many-

fingered domes of the City, enclosing all that made life worthwhile.

He saw, as well, a small moving speck that was too far off to be made

out clearly.

From its manner of motion and from indications too subtle to

describe, Baley was quite sure it was a robot, but that did not surprise

him. The Earth's surface, outside the Cities, was the domain of robots,

not of human beings-except for those few, like himself, who were

dreaming of the stars.

Automatically, his eyes turned back toward the hoeing

stardreamers and went from one to the other. He could identify and

name each one. All working, all learning how to endure the Outside,

and- He frowned and muttered in a low voice, "Where's Bentley?" And

another voice, sounding behind with a somewhat breathless

exuberance, said, "Here I am, Dad."

Baley whirled. '~Don't do that, Ben."

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me like that. It's hard enough trying to keep my

equilibrium in the Outside without my having to worry about

surprises, too."

"I wasn't trying to surprise you. It's tough to make much noise

walking on the grass. One can't help that. -Bust don't you think you

ought to go in, Dad? You've been out two hours now and I think you've

had enough."

"Why? Because I'm forty-five and you're a punk kid of nineteen?

You think you have to take care of your decrepit father, do you?"

Ben said, "Yes, I guess that's it. And a bit of good detective work

on your part, too. You cut right through to the nub."

Ben smiled broadly. His face was round, his eyes sparkling.

There was a lot of Jessie in him, Baley thought, a lot of his mother.

There was little trace of the length and solemnity of Baley's own face.

And yet Ben had his father~s way of thinking. He could at times

furrow into a grave solemnity that made it quite clear that he was of

perfectly legitimate origin.

"I'm doing very well," said Baley.

"You are, Dad. You're the best of us, considering-"

"Considering what?"

"Your age, of course. And I'm not forgetting that you're the one

who started this. Still, I saw you take cover under the tree and I

thought-well, maybe the old man has had enough."

"I'll 'old man' you," said Baley. The robot he had noted in the

direction of the City was now close enough to be made out clearly, but

Baley dismissed it as unimportant. He said, "It makes sense to get

under a tree once in a while when the sun's too bright. We've got to

learn to use the advantages of the Outside, as well as learning to bear

its disadvantages. -And there's the sun coming out from behind that

cloud."

"Yes, it wifi do that. -Well, then, don't you want to go in?"

"I can stick it out. Once a week, I have an afternoon off and I

spend it here. That's my privilege. It goes with my C-7 rating."

"It's not a question of privilege, Dad. It's a question of getting

overtired."

"I feel fine, I tell you."

"Sure. And when you get home, you'll go straight to bed and lie

in the dark."

"Natural antidote to overbrightness."

"And Mom worries."

"Well, let her worry. It will do her good. Besides, wl~at's the

harm in being out here? The worst part is I sweat, but I just have to

get used to it. .1 can't run away from it. When I started, I couldn't even

walk this far from the City without having to turn back-and you were

the only one with me. Now look at how many we've got and how far I

can come without trouble. I can do plenty of work, too. I can last

another hour. Easy. -I tell you, Ben, it would do your mother good to

come out here herself."

"Who? Mom? Surely you jest."

"Some lest. When the time comes to take off, I won't be able to

go along-because she won't."

"And you'll be glad of it. Don't kid yourself, Dad. it won't be for

quite a while-and if you're not too old now, you'll be too old then. It's

going to be a game for young people."

"You know," said Baley, half-balling his fist, "you are such a

wise guy with your 'young people.' Have you ever been off Earth?

Have any of those people in the field been off Earth? I have. Two years

ago. That was before I had any of this acclimatization-and I survived."

"I know, Dad, but that was briefly, and in the line of duty, and

you were taken care of in a going society. It's not the same."

"It was the same," said Baley stubbornly, knowing in his heart

that it wasn't. "And it won't take us so long to be able to leave. If I

could get permission to go to Aurora, we could get this act off the

ground."

"Forget it. It's not going to happen that easily."

"We've got to try. The government won't let us go without

Aurora giving us the go-ahead. It's the largest and strongest of the

Spacer worlds and what it says-"

"Goes! I know. We've all talked this over a million times. But

you don't have to go there to get permission. There are such things as

hyper-relays. You can talk to them from here. I've said that any

number of times before."

"It's not the same. We'll need face-to-face contact-and I've said

that any number of times before."

"In any case," said Ben, "we're not ready yet."

"We're not ready because Earth won't give us the ships. The

Spacers will, together with the necessary technical help."

"Such~ faith! Why should the Spacers do it? When did they start

feeling kindly toward us short-lived Earthpeople?"

"If I could talk to them-"

Ben laughed. "Come on, Dad. You just want to go to Aurora to

see that woman again."

Baley frowned and his eyebrows beetled over his deep-set eyes.

"Woman? Jehoshaphat, Ben, what are you talking about?"

"Now, Dad, just between us-and not a word to Mom-what did

happen with that woman on Solaria? I'm old enough. You can tell

me."

"What woman on Solaria?"

"How can you look at me and deny any knowledge of the woman

everyone on Earth saw in the hyperwave dramatization? Gladia

Delmarre. That woman!"

"Nothing happened. That hyperwave thing was nonsense. I've

told you that a thousand times. She didn't look that way. I didn't look

that way. It was all made up and you know it was produced over my

protests, just because the government thought it would put Earth in a

good light with the Spacers. -And you make sure you don't imply

anything different to your mother."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Still, this Gladia went to Aurora and you

keep wanting to go there, too."

"Are you trying to tell me that you honestly think the reason I

want to go to Aurora- Oh, Jehoshaphat!"

His son's eyebrows raised, "What's the matter?"

"The robot. That's R. Ceronimo."

"Who?"

"One of our Department messenger robots. And it's out here!

I'm off-time and I deliberately left my receiver at home because I

didn't want them to get at me. That's my C-7 privilege and yet they

send for me by robot."

"How do you know it's coming to you, Dad?"

"By very clever deduction. One: there's no one else here who has

any connection with the Police Department; and two: that miserable

thing is heading right toward me. From that I deduce that it wants me.

I should get on the other side of the tree and stay there."

"It's not a wall, Dad. The robot can walk around the tree."

And the robot called out, "Master Baley, I have a message for

you. You are wanted at Headquarters."

The robot stopped, waited, then said again, "Master Baley, I

have a message for you. You are wanted at Headquarters."

"I hear and understand," Baley said tonelessly. He had to say

that or the robot would have continued to repeat.

Baley frowned slightly as he studied the robot. It was a new

model, a little more humaniform than the older models were. It had

been uncrated and activated only a month before and with some

degree of fanfare. The government was always trying for something-

anything-that might produce more acceptance of robots.

It had a grayish surface with a dull finish and a somewhat

resilient touch (perhaps like soft leather). The facial expression, while

largely changeless, was not quite as idiotic as that of most robots. It

was, though, in actual fact, quite as idiotic, mentally, as all the rest.

For a moment, Baley thought of R. Daneel Olivaw, the Spacer robot

who had been on two assignments with him, one on Earth and one on

Solaria, and whom he had last encountered when Daneel had

consulted him in the mirror-image case. Daneel was a robot who was

so human that Baley could treat him as a friend and could still miss

him, even now. If all robots were like that- Baley said, "This is my day

off, boy. There is no necessity for

me to go to Headquarters."

Asimov, Isaac - Robot 3 - The Robots of Dawn.pdf

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