“Well, dear me—I presume it has been cleaned up. The household retinue would surely not leave it standing about.”

Baley groaned. Of course not. It was impossible to retain evidence with eager robots forever destroying it in the name of household duty. He should have ordered it preserved, but of course, this society was not his own and he never reacted properly to it.

Jehoshaphat!

Word eventually came through that the Gruer estate was clear; no sign of any unauthorized human present anywhere.

Daneel said, “That rather intensifies the puzzle, Partner Elijah, since it seems to leave no one in the role of poisoner.”

Baley, absorbed in thought, scarcely heard. He said, “What?… Not at all. Not at all. It clarifies the matter.” He did not explain,

knowing quite well that Daneel would be incapable of understanding or believing what Baley was certain was the truth.

Nor did Daneel ask for an explanation. Such an invasion of a human’s thoughts would have been most unrobotic.

Baley prowled back and forth restlessly, dreading the approach of the sleep period, when his fears of the open would rise and his longing for Earth increase. He felt an almost feverish desire to keep things happening.

He said to Daneel, “I might as well see Mrs. Delmarre again. Have the robot make contact.”

They walked to the viewing room and Baley watched a robot work with deft metal fingers. He watched through a haze of obscuring thought that vanished in startled astonishment when a table, elaborately spread for dinner, suddenly filled half the room.

Gladia’s voice said, “Hello.” A moment later she stepped into view and sat down. “Don’t look surprised, Elijah. It’s just dinnertime. And I’m very carefully dressed. See?”

She was. The dominant color of her dress was a light blue and it shimmered down the length of her limbs to wrists and ankles. A yellow ruff clung about her neck and shoulders, a little lighter than her hair, which was now held in disciplined waves.

Baley said, “I did not mean to interrupt your meal.”

“I haven’t begun yet. Why don’t you join me?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Join you?”

She laughed. “You Earthmen are so funny. I don’t mean join me in personal presence. How could you do that? I mean, go to your own dining room and then you and the other one can dine with me.”

“But if I leave—”

“Your viewing technician can maintain contact.”

Daneel nodded gravely at that, and with some uncertainty Baley turned and walked toward the door. Gladia, together with her table, its setting, and its ornaments moved with him.

Gladia smiled encouragingly. “See? Your viewing technician is keeping us in contact.”

Baley and Daneel traveled up a moving ramp that Baley did not recall having traversed before. Apparently there were numerous possible routes between any two rooms in this impossible mansion and he knew only few of them. Daneel, of course, knew them all.

And, moving through walls, sometimes a bit below floor level, sometimes a bit above, there was always Gladia and her dinner table.

Baley stopped and muttered, “This takes getting used to.”

Gladia said at once, “Does it make you dizzy?”

“A little.”

“Then I tell you what. Why don’t you have your technicians freeze me right here. Then when you’re in your dining room and all set, he can join us up.”

Daneel said, “I will order that done, Partner Elijah.”

Their own dinner table was set when they arrived, the plates steaming with a dark brown soup in which diced meat was bobbing, and in the center a large roast fowl was ready for the carving. Daneel spoke briefly to the serving robot and, with smooth efficiency, the two places that had been set were drawn to the same end of the table.

As though that were a signal, the opposite wall seemed to move outward, the table seemed to lengthen and Gladia was seated at the opposite end. Room joined to room and table to table so neatly that but for the varying pattern in wall and floor covering and the differing designs in tableware it would have been easy to believe they were all dining together in actual fact.

“There,” said Gladia with satisfaction. “Isn’t this comfortable?”

“Quite,” said Baley. He tasted his soup gingerly, found it delicious, and helped himself more generously. “YOU know about Agent Gruer?”

Trouble shadowed her face at once and she put her spoon down. “Isn’t it terrible? Poor Hannis.”

“You use his first name. Do you know him?”

“I know almost all the important people on Solaria. Most Solarians do know one another. Naturally.”

Naturally, indeed, thought Baley. How many of them were there, after all?

Baley said, “Then perhaps you know Dr. Altim Thool. He’s taking care of Gruer.”

Gladia laughed gently. Her serving robot sliced meat for her and added small, browned potatoes and slivers of carrots. “Of course I know him. He treated me.”

“Treated you when?”

“Right after the—the trouble. About my husband, I mean.”

Baley said in astonishment, “Is he the only doctor on the planet?”

“Oh no.” For a moment her lips moved as though she were counting to herself. “There are at least ten. And there’s one youngster I know of who’s studying medicine. But Dr. Thool is one of the best. He has the most experience. Poor Dr. Thool.”

“Why poor?”

“Well, you know what I mean. It’s such a nasty job, being a doctor. Sometimes you just have to see people when you’re a doctor and even touch them. But Dr. Thool seems so resigned to it and he’ll always do some seeing when he feels he must. He’s always treated me since I was a child and was always so friendly and kind and I honestly feel I almost wouldn’t mind if he did have to see me. For instance, he saw me this last time.”

“After your husband’s death, you mean?”

“Yes. You can imagine how he felt when he saw my husband’s dead body and me lying there.”

“I was told he viewed the body,” said Baley.

“The body, yes. But after he made sure I was alive and in no real danger, he ordered the robots to put a pillow under my head and give me an injection of something or other, and then get out. He came over by jet. Really! By jet. It took less than half an hour and he took care of me and made sure all was well. I was so woozy when I came to that I was sure I was only viewing him, you know, and it wasn’t till he touched me that I knew we were seeing, and I screamed. Poor Dr. Thool. He was awfully embarrassed, but I knew he meant well.”

Baley nodded. “I suppose there’s not much use for doctors on Solaria?”

“I should hope not.”

“I know there are no germ diseases to speak of. What about metabolic disorders? Atherosclerosis? Diabetes? Things like that?”

“It happens and it’s pretty awful when it does. Doctors can make life more livable for such people in a physical way, but that’s the least of it.”

“Oh?”

“Of course. It means the gene analysis was imperfect. You don’t suppose we allow defects like diabetes to develop on purpose. Anyone who develops such things has to undergo very detailed re

analysis. The mate assignment has to be retracted, which is terribly embarrassing for the mate. And it means no—no”—her voice sank to a whisper—“children.”

Baley said in a normal voice, “No children?”

Gladia flushed. “It’s a terrible thing to say. Such a word! Ch-children!”

“It comes easy after a while,” said Baley dryly.

“Yes, but if I get into the habit, I’ll say it in front of another Solarian someday and I’ll just sink into the ground… . Anyway, if the two of them have had children (see, I’ve said it again) already, the children have to be found and examined—that was one of Rikaine’s jobs, by the way—and well, it’s just a mess.”

So much for Thool, thought Baley. The doctor’s incompetence was a natural consequence of the society, and held nothing sinister. Nothing necessarily sinister. Cross him off, he thought, but lightly.