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investigation sensibly.
But now he had to abandon his theories. He had viewed novels
and had succeeded only in learning of people with ridiculous
problems who behaved foolishly and reacted mysteriously. Why
should a woman abandon her job on discovering her child had
entered the same profession and refuse to explain her reasons until
unbearable and ridiculous complications had resulted? Why should a
doctor and an artist be humiliated at being assigned to one another
and what was so noble about the doctor's insistence on entering
robotic research?
He threaded the fifth novel into the scanner and adjusted it to
his eyes. He was bone-weary.
So weary, in fact, that he never afterward recalled anything of
the fifth novel (which he believed to be a suspense story) except for
the opening in which a new estate owner entered his mansion and
looked through the past account films presented him by a respectful
robot.
Presumably he fell asleep then with the scanner on his head and
all lights blazing. Presumably a robot, entering respectfully, had
gently removed the scanner and put out the lights.
In any case, he slept and dreamed of Jessie. All was as it had
been. He had never left Earth. They were ready to travel to the
community kitchen and then to see a subetheric show with friends.
They would travel over the Expressways and see people and neither of
them had a care in the world. He was happy.
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r r
And Jessie was beautiful. She had lost weight somehow. Why
should she be so slim? And so beautiful?
And one other thing was wrong. Somehow the sun shone down
on them. He looked up and there was only the vaulted base of the
upper Levels visible, yet the sun shone down, blazing brightly on
everything, and no one was afraid.
Baley woke up, disturbed. He let the robots serve breakfast and
did not speak to Daneel. He said nothing, asked nothing, downed
excellent coffee without tasting it.
Why had he dreamed of the visible-invisible sun? He could
understand dreaming of Earth and of Jessie, but what had the sun to
do with it? And why should the thought of it bother him, anyway?
"Partner Elijah," said Daneel gently.
"What?"
"Corwin Attlebish will be in viewing contact with you in half an
hour. I have arranged that."
"Who the hell is Corwin Whatchamacullum?" asked Baley
sharply, and refilled his coffee cup.
"He was Agent Gruer's chief aide, Partner Elijah, and is now
Acting Head of Security."
"Then get him now."
"The appointment, as I explained, is for half an hour from now."
"I don't care when it's for. Get him now. That's an order."
"I will make the attempt, Partner Elijah. He may not, however,
agree to receive the call."
"Let's take the chance, and get on with it, Daneel."
The Acting Head of Security accepted the call and, for the first
time on Solaria, Baley saw a Spacer who looked like the usual Earthly
conception of one. Attlebish was tall, lean, and bronze. His eyes were
a light brown, his chin large and hard.
He looked faintly like Daneel. But whereas Daneel was
idealized, almost godlike, Corwin Attlebish had lines of humanity in
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r r
his face.
Attlebish was shaving. The small abrasive pencil gave out its
spray of fine particles that swept over cheek and chin, biting off the
hair neatly and then disintegrating into impalpable dust.
Baley recognized the instrument through hearsay but had never
seen one used before.
"You the Earthman?" asked Attlebish slurringly through barely
cracked lips, as the abrasive dust passed under his nose.
Baley said, "I'm Elijah Baley, Plainclothesman C-7. I'm from
Earth."
"You're early." Attlebish snapped his shaver shut and tossed it
somewhere outside Baley's range of vision. "What's on your mind,
Earthman?"
Baley would not have enjoyed the other's tone of voice at the
best of times. He burned now. He said, "How is Agent Gruer?"
Attlebish said, "He's still alive. He may stay alive."
Baley nodded. "Your poisoners here on Solaria don't know
dosages. Lack of experience. They gave Gruer too much and he threw
it up. Half the dose would have killed him."
"Poisoners? There is no evidence for poison."
Baley stared. "Jehoshaphat! What else do you think it is?"
"A number of things. Much can go wrong with a person." He
rubbed his face, looking for roughness with his fingertips. "You would
scarcely know the metabolic problems that arise past the age of two
fifty."
"If that's the case, have you obtained competent medical
advice?"
"Dr. Thool's report-"
That did it. The anger that had been boiling inside Baley since
waking burst through. He cried at the top of his voice, "I don't care
about Dr. Thool. I said competent medical advice. Your doctors don't
know anything, any more than your detectives would, if you had any. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]