Asimov's Future History Volume 4 (81 page)

Vasilia looked at Daneel with bitter curiosity. “Partner Elijah? Is that what you call him?”

“Yes, Dr. Vasilia. My choice in this matter–the Earthman over you–arises not only out of Dr. Fastolfe’s instructions, but because the Earthman and I are partners in this investigation and because–” Daneel paused as though puzzled by what he was about to say, and then said it anyway, “–we are friends.”

Vasilia said, “Friends? An Earthman and a humaniform robot? Well, there is a match. Neither quite human.”

Baley said, sharply, “Nevertheless bound by friendship. Do not, for your own sake, test the force of our–” Now it was he who paused and, as though to his own surprise, completed the sentence impossibly, “–love.”

Vasilia turned to Baley. “What do you want?”

“Information. I have been called to Aurora–this World of the Dawn–to straighten out an event that does not seem to have an easy explanation, one in which Dr. Fastolfe stands falsely accused, with the possibility, therefore, of terrible consequences for your world and mine. Daneel and Giskard understand this situation well and know that nothing but the First Law at its fullest and most immediate can take precedence over my efforts to solve the mystery. Since they have heard what I have said and know that you might possibly be an accessory to the deed, they understand that they must not allow this interview to end. Therefore, I say again, don’t risk the actions they may be forced to take if you refuse to answer my questions. I have accused you of being an accessory in the murder of Jander Panell. Do you deny that accusation or not? You
must
answer.”

Vasilia said bitterly, “I will answer. Never fear! Murder? A robot is put out of commission and that’s
murder?
Well, I
do
deny it, murder or whatever! I deny it with all possible force. I have not given Gremionis information on robotics for the purpose of allowing him to put an end to Jander. I don’t know enough to do so and I suspect that no one at the Institute knows enough.”

Baley said, “I can’t say whether you know enough to have helped commit the crime or whether anyone at the Institute knows enough. We can, however, discuss motive. First, you might have a feeling of tenderness for this Gremionis. However much you might reject his offers–however contemptible you might find him as a possible lover–would it be so strange that you would feel flattered by his persistence, sufficiently so to be willing to help him if he turned to you prayerfully and without any sexual demands with which to annoy you?”

“You mean he may have come to me and said, ‘Vasilia, dear, I want to put a robot out of commission. Please tell me how to do it and I will be terribly grateful to you.’ And I would say, ‘Why, certainly, dear, I would just love to help you commit a crime.’

–Preposterous! No one except an Earthman, who knows nothing of Auroran ways, could believe anything like this could happen. It would take a particularly
stupid
Earthman, too.”

‘Perhaps, but all possibilities must be considered. For instance, as a second possibility, might you yourself not be jealous over the fact that Gremionis has switched his affections, so that you might help him not out of abstract tenderness but out of a very concrete desire to win him back?”

“Jealous? That is an Earthly emotion. If I do not wish Gremionis for myself, how can I possibly care whether he offers himself to another woman and she accepts or, for that matter, if another woman offers herself to him and he accepts?”

“I have been told before that sexual jealousy is unknown on Aurora and I am willing to admit that is true in theory, but such theories rarely hold up in practice. There are surely some exceptions. What’s more, jealousy is all too often an irrational emotion and not to be dismissed by mere logic. Still, let us leave that for the moment. As a third possibility, you might be jealous of Gladia and wish to do her harm, even if you don’t care the least bit for Gremionis yourself.”

“Jealous of Gladia? I have never even seen her, except once on the hyperwave when she arrived in Aurora. The fact that people have commented on her resemblance to me, every once in a long while, hasn’t bothered me.”

“Does it perhaps bother you that she is Dr. Fastolfe’s ward, his favorite, almost the daughter that you were once? She has replaced you.”

“She is
welcome
to that. I could not care less.”

“Even if they were lovers?”

Vasilia stared at Baley with growing fury and beads of perspiration appeared at her hairline.

She said, “There is no need to discuss this. You have asked me to deny the allegation that I was accessory to what you call murder and I have denied it. I have said I lacked the ability and I lacked the motive. You are welcome to present your case to all Aurora. Present your foolish attempts at supplying me with a motive. Maintain, if you wish, that I have the ability to do so. You will get nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.”

And even while she trembled with anger, it seemed to Baley that there was conviction in her voice.

She did not fear the accusation.

She had agreed to see him, so he
was
on the track of something that she feared–perhaps feared desperately.

But she did not fear
this.

Where, then, had he gone wrong?

41.

B
ALEY
SAID
(
TROUBLED
, casting about for some way out), “Suppose I accept your statement, Dr. Vasilia. Suppose I agree that my suspicion that you might have been an accessory in this–roboticide–was wrong. Even that would not mean that it is impossible for you to help me.”

“Why should I help you?”

Baley said, “Out of human decency. Dr. Han Fastolfe assures us he did not do it, that he is not a robot-killer, that he did not put this particular robot, Jander, out of operation. You’ve known Dr. Fastolfe better than anyone ever has, one would suppose. You spent years in an intimate relationship with him as a beloved child and growing daughter. You saw him at times and under conditions that no one else saw him. Whatever your present feelings toward him might be, the past is not changed by them. Knowing him as you do, you must be able to bear witness that his character is such that he could not harm a robot, certainly not a robot that is one of his supreme achievements. Would you be willing to bear such witness openly? To all the worlds? It would help a great deal.”

Vasilia’s face seemed to harden. “Understand me,” she said, pronouncing the words distinctly. “I will not be involved.”

“You
must
be involved.”

“Why?”

“Do you owe nothing to your father? He
is
your father. Whether the word means anything to you or not, there is a biological connection. And besides that–father or not–he took care of you, nurtured and brought you up, for years. You owe him something for that.”

Vasilia trembled. It was a visible shaking and her teeth were chattering. She tried to speak, failed, took a deep breath, another, then tried again. She said, “Giskard, do you hear all that is going on?”

Giskard bowed his head. “Yes, Little Miss.”

“And you, the humaniform–Daneel?”

“Yes, Dr. Vasilia.”

“You hear all this, too?”

“Yes, Dr. Vasilia.”

“You both understand the Earthman insists that I bear evidence on Dr. Fastolfe’s character?”

Both nodded.

“Then I will speak–against my will and in anger. It is because I have felt that I did owe this
father
of mine some minimum consideration as my gene-bearer and, after a fashion, my upbringer, that I have
not
borne witness. But now I will. Earthman, listen to me. Dr. Han Fastolfe, some of whose genes I share, did not take care of
me–me–me–as
a separate, distinct human being. I was to him nothing more than an experiment, an observational phenomenon.”

Baley shook his head. “That is not what I was asking.”

She drove furiously over him. “You insisted that I speak and I
will
speak–and it will answer you.–One thing interests Dr. Han Fastolfe. One thing. One thing only. That is the functioning of the human brain. He wishes to reduce it to equations, to a wiring diagram, to a solved maze, and thus found a mathematical science of human behavior which will allow him to prediet the human future. He calls the science ‘psychohistory.’ I can’t believe that you have talked to him for as little as an hour without his mentioning it. it is the monomania that drives him.”

Vasilia searched Baley’s face and cried out ip a fierce joy, “I can tell! He
has
talked to you about it. Then he must have told you that he is interested in robots only insofar as they can bring him to the human brain. He is interested in humaniform robots only insofar as they can bring him still closer to the human brain.–Yes, he’s told you that, too.

“The basic theory that made humaniform robots possible arose, I am quite certain, out of his attempt to understand the human brain and he hugs that theory to himself and will allow no one else to see it because he wants to solve the problem of the human brain totally by himself in the two centuries or so he has left. Everything is subordinate to that. And that most certainly included me.”

Baley, trying to breast his way against the flood of fury, said in a low voice, “In what way did it include you, Dr. Vasilia?”

“When I was born, I should have been placed with others of my kind, with professionals who knew how to care for infants. I should not have been kept by myself in the charge of an amateur–father or not, scientist or not. Dr. Fastolfe should not have been allowed to subject a child to such an environment and would not–if he had been anyone else but Han Fastolfe. He used all his prestige to bring it about, called in every debt he had, persuaded every key person he could, until he had control of me.”

“He loved you,” muttered Baley.

“Loved me? Any other infant would have done as well, but no other infant was available. What he wanted was a growing child in his presence, a developing brain. He wanted to make a careful study of the method of its development, the fashion of its growth. He wanted a human brain in simple form, growing complex, so that he could study it in detail. For that purpose, he subjected me to an abnormal environment and to subtle experimentation, with no consideration for me as a human being at all.”

“I can’t believe that. Even if he were interested in you as an experimental object, he could still care for you as a human being.”

“No.
You speak as an Earthman. Perhaps on Earth there is some sort of regard for biological connections. Here there is not. I was an experimental object to him. Period.”

“Even if that were so to start with, Dr. Fastolfe couldn’t help but learn to love you–a helpless object entrusted to his care. Even if there were no biological connection at all, even if you were an animal, let us say, he would have learned to love you.”

“Oh, would he now?” she said bitterly. “You don’t know the force of indifference in a man like Dr. Fastolfe. If it would have advanced his knowledge to snuff out my life, he would have done so without hesitation.”

“That is ridiculous, Dr. Vasilia. His treatment of you was so kind and considerate that it evoked love from you. I know that. You–you offered yourself to him.”

“He told you that, did he? Yes, he would. Not for a moment, even today, would he stop to question whether such a revelation might not embarrass me.–Yes, I offered myself to him and why not? He was the only human being I really knew. He was superficially gentle to me and I didn’t understand his true purposes. He was a natural target for me. Then, too, he saw to it that I was introduced to sexual stimulation under controlled conditions–the controls
he
set up. It was inevitable that eventually I would turn to him. I had to, for there was no one else–and he refused.”

“And you hated him for that?”

“No.
Not at first. Not for years. Even though my sexual development was stunted and distorted, with effects I feel to this day, I did not blame him. I did not know enough. I found excuses for him. He was busy. He had others. He needed older women. You would be astonished at the ingenuity with which I uncovered reasons for his refusal. It was only years later that I became aware that something was wrong and I managed to bring it out openly, face-to-face. ‘Why did you refuse me?’ I asked. ‘Obliging me might have put me on the right track, solved everything.”

She paused, swallowing, and for a moment covered her eyes. Baley waited, frozen with embarrassment. The robots were expressionless (incapable, for all Baley knew, of experiencing any balance or imbalance of the positronic pathways that would produce a sensation in any way analogous to human embarrassment).

She said, calmer, “He avoided the question for as long as he could, but I faced him with it over and over. ‘Why did you refuse me?’ ‘Why did you refuse me?’ He had no hesitation in engaging in sex. I knew of several occasions–I remember wondering if he simply preferred men. Where children are not involved, personal preference in such things is not of any importance and some men can find women distasteful or, for that matter, vice versa. It was not so with this man you call my father, however. He enjoyed women–sometimes young women–as young as I was when I first offered myself. ‘Why did you refuse me?’ He finally answered me–and you are welcome to guess what that answer was.”

She paused and waited sardonically.

Baley stirred uneasily and said in a mumble, “He didn’t want to make love to his daughter?”

“Oh, don’t be a fool. What difference does that make? Considering that hardly any man on Aurora knows who his daughter is, any man making love to any woman a few decades younger might be–But never mind, it’s self-evident.–What he answered–and oh, how I remember the words–was ‘You great fool! If I involved myself with you in that manner, how could I maintain my objectivity–and of what use would my continuing study of you be?’

“By that time, you see, I knew of his interest in the human brain. I was even following in his footsteps and becoming a roboticist in my own right. I worked with Giskard in this direction and experimented with his programming. I did it very well, too, didn’t I, Giskard?”