The Caves of Steel (14 page)

“No, no. Of course not.” Enderby was quite obviously horrified. He leaned forward to look at something that was out of the range of the trimensic receiver.

Baley could guess what it was. The Commissioner was checking the power gauge to see if the transmitter were tapped.

“Is that a point in your argument?” asked Fastolfe.

“It certainly is. The First Law of Robotics states that a robot cannot harm a human being.”

“But R. Daneel did no harm.”

“True. He even stated afterward that he wouldn’t have fired under any circumstances. Still, no robot I ever heard of could have violated the spirit of the First Law to the extent of threatening to blast a man, even if he really had no intention to do so.”

“I see. Are you a robotics expert, Mr. Baley?”

“No, sir. But I’ve had a course in general robotics and in positronic analysis. I’m not completely ignorant.”

“That’s nice,” said Fastolfe, agreeably, “but you see, I
am
a robotics expert, and I assure you that the essence of the robot mind lies in a completely literal interpretation of the universe. It recognizes no spirit
in the First Law, only the letter. The simple models you have on Earth may have their First Law so overlaid with additional safeguards that, to be sure, they may well be incapable of threatening a human. An advanced model such as R. Daneel is another matter. If I gather the situation correctly, Daneel’s threat was necessary to prevent a riot. It was intended then to prevent harm to human beings. He was obeying the First Law, not defying it.”

Baley squirmed inwardly, but maintained a tight external calm. It would go hard, but he would match this Spacer at his own game.

He said, “You may counter each point separately, but they add up just the same. Last evening in our discussion of the so-called murder, this alleged robot claimed that he had been converted into a detective by the installation of a new drive into his positronic circuits. A drive, if you please, for justice.”

“I’ll vouch for that,” said Fastolfe. “It was done to him three days ago under my own supervision.”

“A drive for
justice
? Justice, Dr. Fastolfe, is an abstraction. Only a human being can use the term.”

“If you define ‘justice’ in such a way that it is an abstraction, if you say that it is the rendering of each man his due, that it is adhering to the right, or anything of the sort, I grant you your argument, Mr. Baley. A human understanding of abstractions cannot be built into a positronic brain in the present state of our knowledge.”

“You admit that, then—as an expert in robotics?”

“Certainly. The question is, what did R. Daneel mean by using the term ‘justice’?”

“From the context of our own conversation, he meant what you and I and any human being would mean, but what no robot could mean.”

“Why don’t you ask him, Mr. Baley, to define the term?”

Baley felt a certain loss of confidence. He turned to R. Daneel. “Well?”

“Yes, Elijah?”

“What is your definition of justice?”

“Justice, Elijah, is that which exists when all the laws are enforced.”

Fastolfe nodded. “A good definition, Mr. Baley, for a robot. The desire to see all laws enforced has been built into R. Daneel, now. Justice is a very concrete term to him since it is based on law enforcement, which is in turn based upon the existence of specific and definite laws. There is nothing abstract about it. A human being can recognize the fact that, on the basis of an abstract moral code, some laws may be bad ones and their enforcement unjust. What do you say, R. Daneel?”

“An unjust law,” said R. Daneel evenly, “is a contradiction in terms.”

“To a robot it is, Mr. Baley. So you see, you mustn’t confuse your justice and R. Daneel’s.”

Baley turned to R. Daneel sharply and said, “You left my apartment last night.”

R. Daneel replied, “I did. If my leaving disturbed your sleep, I am sorry.”

“Where did you go?”

“To the Men’s Personal.”

For a moment, Baley was staggered. It was the answer he had already decided was the truth, but he had not expected it to be the answer R. Daneel would give. He felt a little more of his certainty oozing away, yet he held firmly on his track. The Commissioner was watching, his lensed eyes flicking from one to the other as they spoke. Baley
couldn’t
back down now, no
matter what sophistries they used against him. He had to hold to his point.

He said, “On reaching my section,
he
insisted on entering Personal with me. His excuse was a poor one. During the night, he left to visit Personal again as he has just admitted. If he were a man, I’d say he had every reason and right to do so. Obviously. As a robot, however, the trip was meaningless. The conclusion can only be that he is a man.”

Fastolfe nodded. He seemed not in the least put out. He said, “This is most interesting. Suppose we ask Daneel why he made his trip to Personal last night.”

Commissioner Enderby leaned forward. “Please, Dr. Fastolfe,” he muttered, “it is not proper to—”

“You need not be concerned, Commissioner,” said Fastolfe, his thin lips curving back in something that looked like a smile but wasn’t, “I’m certain that Daneel’s answer will not offend your sensibilities or those of Mr. Baley. Won’t you tell us, Daneel?”

R. Daneel said, “Elijah’s wife, Jessie, left the apartment last night on friendly terms with me. It was quite obvious that she had no reason for thinking me to be other than human. She returned to the apartment knowing I was a robot. The obvious conclusion is that the information to that effect exists outside the apartment. It followed that my conversation with Elijah last night had been overheard. In no other way could the secret of my true nature have become common knowledge.

“Elijah told me that the apartments were well insulated. We spoke together in low voices. Ordinary eavesdropping would not do. Still, it was known that Elijah is a policeman. If a conspiracy exists within the City sufficiently well organized to have planned the murder of Dr. Sarton, they may well have been aware that Elijah had been placed in charge of the murder
investigation. It would fall within the realm of possibility then, even of probability, that his apartment had been spy-beamed.

“I searched the apartment as well as I could after Elijah and Jessie had gone to bed, but could find no transmitter. This complicated matters. A focused duo-beam could do the trick even in the absence of a transmitter, but that requires rather elaborate equipment.

“Analysis of the situation led to the following conclusion. The one place where a City dweller can do almost anything without being disturbed or questioned is in the Personals. He could even set up a duo-beam. The custom of absolute privacy in the Personals is very strong and other men would not even look at him. The Section Personal is quite close to Elijah’s apartment, so that the distance factor is not important. A suitcase model could be used. I went to the Personal to investigate.”

“And what did you find?” asked Baley quickly.

“Nothing, Elijah. No sign of a duo-beam.”

Dr. Fastolfe said, “Well, Mr. Baley, does this sound reasonable to you?”

But Baley’s uncertainty was gone, now. He said, “Reasonable as far as it goes, perhaps, but it stops short of perfection by a hell of a way. What
he
doesn’t know is that my wife told me where she got the information and
when
. She learned he was a robot shortly after she left the house. Even then, the rumor had been circulating for hours. So the fact that he was a robot could not have leaked out through spying on our last evening’s conversation.”

“Nevertheless,” said Dr. Fastolfe, “his action last night of going to the Personal stands explained, I think.”

“But something is brought up that is
not
explained,” retorted Baley, heatedly. “When, where,
and how was the leak? How did the news get about that there was a Spacer robot in the City? As far as I know, only two of us knew about the deal, Commissioner Enderby and myself, and we told no one.—Commissioner, did anyone else in the Department know?”

“No,” said Enderby, anxiously. “Not even the Mayor. Only we, and Dr. Fastolfe.”

“And
he
,” added Baley, pointing. “I?” asked R. Daneel. “Why not?”

“I was with you at all times, Elijah.”

“You were
not
,” cried Baley, fiercely. “I was in Personal for half an hour or more before we went to my apartment. During that time, we two were completely out of contact with one another. It was then that you got in touch with your group in the City.”

“What group?” asked Fastolfe.

And “What group?” echoed Commissioner Enderby almost simultaneously.

Baley rose from his chair and turned to the trimensic receiver. “Commissioner, I want you to listen closely to this. Tell me if it doesn’t all fall into a pattern. A murder is reported and by a curious coincidence it happens just as you are entering Spacetown to keep an appointment with the murdered man. You are shown the corpse of something supposed to be human, but the corpse has since been disposed of and is not available for close examination.

“The Spacers insist an Earthman did the killing, even though the only way they can make such an accusation stick is to suppose that a City man had left the City and cut cross country to Spacetown alone and at night. You know damn well how unlikely that is.

“Next they send a supposed robot into the City; in fact, they
insist
on sending him. The first thing the
robot does is to threaten a crowd of human beings with a blaster. The second is to set in motion the rumor that there is a Spacer robot in the City. In fact, the rumor is so specific that Jessie told me it was known that he was working with the police. That means that before long it will be known that it was the robot who handled the blaster. Maybe even now the rumor is spreading across the yeast-vat country and down the Long Island hydroponic plants that there’s a killer robot on the loose.”

“This is impossible. Impossible!” groaned Enderby.

“No, it isn’t. It’s exactly what’s happening, Commissioner. Don’t you see it? There’s a conspiracy in the City, all right, but it’s run from Spacetown. The Spacers
want
to be able to report a murder. They
want
riots. They
want
an assault on Spacetown. The worse things get, the better the incident—and Spacer ships come down and occupy the Cities of Earth.”

Fastolfe said, mildly, “We had an excuse in the Barrier Riots of twenty-five years ago.”

“You weren’t ready then. You are now.” Baley’s heart was pounding madly.

“This is quite a complicated plot you’re attributing to us, Mr. Baley. If we wanted to occupy Earth, we could do so in much simpler fashion.”

“Maybe not, Dr. Fastolfe. Your so-called robot told me that public opinion concerning Earth is by no means unified on your Outer Worlds. I think he was telling the truth at that time, anyway. Maybe an outright occupation wouldn’t sit well with the people at home. Maybe an incident is an absolute necessity. A good shocking incident.”

“Like a murder, eh? Is that it? You’ll admit it would have to be a pretended murder. You won’t suggest,
I hope, that we’d really kill one of ourselves for the sake of an incident.”

“You built a robot to look like Dr. Sarton, blasted the robot, and showed the remains to Commissioner Enderby.”

“And then,” said Dr. Fastolfe, “having used R. Daneel to impersonate Dr. Sarton in the false murder, we have to use Dr. Sarton to impersonate R. Daneel in the false investigation of the false murder.”

“Exactly. I am telling you this in the presence of a witness who is not here in the flesh and whom you cannot blast out of existence and who is important enough to be believed by the City government and by Washington itself. We will be prepared for you and we know what your intentions are. If necessary, our government will report directly to your people, expose the situation for exactly what it is. I doubt if this sort of interstellar rape will be tolerated.”

Fastolfe shook his head. “Please, Mr. Baley, you are being unreasonable. Really, you have the most astonishing notions. Suppose now, just quietly suppose, that R. Daneel is really R. Daneel. Suppose he is actually a robot. Wouldn’t it follow that the corpse Commissioner Enderby saw was really Dr. Sarton? It would be scarcely reasonable to believe that the corpse were still another robot. Commissioner Enderby witnessed R. Daneel under construction and can vouch for the fact that only one existed.”

“If it comes to that,” said Baley, stubbornly, “the Commissioner is not a robotics expert. You might have had a dozen such robots.”

“Stick to the point, Mr. Baley. What if R. Daneel is really R. Daneel? Would not the entire structure of your reasoning fall to the ground? Would you have any further basis for your belief in this completely melodramatic
and implausible interstellar plot you have constructed?”

“If
he
is a robot! I say he is human.”

“Yet you haven’t really investigated the problem, Mr. Baley,” said Fastolfe. “To differentiate a robot, even a very humanoid robot, from a human being, it isn’t necessary to make elaborately shaky deductions from little things he says and does. For instance, have you tried sticking a pin into R. Daneel?”

“What?” Baley’s mouth fell open.

“It’s a simple experiment. There are others perhaps not quite so simple. His skin and hair look real, but have you tried looking at them under adequate magnification. Then again, he seems to breathe, particularly when he is using air to talk, but have you noticed that his breathing is irregular, that minutes may go by during which he has no breath at all. You might even have trapped some of his expired air and measured the carbon dioxide content. You might have tried to draw a sample of blood. You might have tried to detect a pulse in his wrist, or a heartbeat under his shirt. Do you see what I mean, Mr. Baley?”

“That’s just talk,” said Baley, uneasily. “I’m not going to be bluffed. I might have tried any of those things, but do you suppose this alleged robot would have let me bring a hypodermic to him, or a stethoscope or a microscope?”