“Quite imaginary, of course,” said Quemot. “I cannot say whether you do have an odor or how strong it is, but even if you had a strong one, my nose filters would keep it from me. Yet, imagination—” He shrugged.

“I understand.”

“It’s worse. You’ll forgive me, Mr. Baley, but in the actual presence

of a human, I feel strongly as though something slimy were about to touch me. I keep shrinking away. It is most unpleasant.”

Baley rubbed his ear thoughtfully and fought to keep down annoyance. After all, it was the other’s neurotic reaction to a simple state of affairs.

He said, “If all this is so, I’m surprised you agreed to see me so readily. Surely you anticipated this unpleasantness.”

“I did. But you know, I was curious. You’re an Earthman.” Baley thought sardonically that that should have been another argument against seeing, but he said only, ‘What does that matter?”

A kind of jerky enthusiasm entered Quemot’s voice. “It’s not something I can explain easily. Not even to myself, really. But I’ve worked on sociology for ten years now. Really worked. I’ve developed propositions that are quite new and startling, and yet basically true. It is one of these propositions that makes me most extraordinarily interested in Earth and Earthmen. You see, if you were to consider Solaria’s society and way of life carefully, it will become obvious to you that the said society and way of life is modeled directly and closely on that of Earth itself.”

Baley could not prevent himself from crying out, “What!”

Quemot looked over his shoulder as the moments of silence passed and said finally, “Not Earth’s present culture. No.”

Baley said, “Oh.”

“But in the past, yes. Earth’s ancient history. As an Earthman, you know it, of course.”

“I’ve viewed books,” said Baley cautiously.

“Ah. Then you understand.”

Baley, who did not, said, “Let me explain exactly what I want, Dr. Quemot. I want you to tell me what you can about why Solaria is so different from the other Outer Worlds, why there are so many robots, why you behave as you do. I’m sorry if I seem to be changing the subject.”

Baley most definitely wanted to change the subject. Any discussion of a likeness or unlikeness between Solaria’s culture and Earth’s would prove too absorbing by half. He might spend the day there and come away none the wiser as far as useful information was concerned.

Quemot smiled. “You want to compare Solaria and the other Outer Worlds and not Solaria and Earth.”

“I know Earth, sir.”

“As you wish.” The Solarian coughed slightly. “Do you mind if I turn my chair completely away from you? It would be more—more comfortable.”

“As you wish, Dr. Quemot,” said Baley stiffly.

“Good.” A robot turned the chair at Quemot’s low voiced order,

and as the sociologist sat there, hidden from Baley’s eyes by the substantial chair back, his voice took on added life and even deepened and strengthened in tone.

Quemot said, “Solaria was first settled about three hundred years ago. The original settlers were Nexonians. Are you acquainted with Nexon?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“It is close to Solaria, only about two parsecs away. In fact, Solaria and Nexon represent the closest pair of inhabited worlds in the Galaxy. Solaria, even when uninhabited by man, was life bearing and eminently suited for human occupation. It represented an obvious attraction to the well-to-do of Nexon, who found it difficult to maintain a proper standard of living as their own planet filled up.”

Baley interrupted. “Filled up? I thought Spacers practiced population control.”

“Solaria does, but the Outer Worlds in general control it rather laxly. Nexon was completing its second million of population at the time I speak of. There was sufficient crowding to make it necessary to regulate the number of robots that might be owned by a particular family. So those Nexonians who could established summer homes on Solaria, which was fertile, temperate, and without dangerous fauna.

“The settlers on Solaria could still reach Nexon without too much trouble and while on Solaria they could live as they pleased. They could use as many robots as they could afford or felt a need for. Estates could be as large as desired since, with an empty planet, room was no problem, and with unlimited robots, exploitation was no problem.

“Robots grew to be so many that they were outfitted with radio contact and that was the beginning of our famous robot industries. We began to develop new varieties, new attachments, new capabilities. Culture dictates invention; a phrase I believe I have invented.” Quemot chuckled.

A robot, responding to some stimulus Baley could not see beyond the barrier of the chair, brought Quemot a drink similar to that Baley had had earlier. None was brought to Baley, and he decided not to ask for one.

Quemot went on, “The advantages of life on Solaria were obvious to all who watched. Solaria became fashionable. More Nexonians established homes, and Solaria became what I like to call a ‘villa planet.’ And of the settlers, more and more took to remaining on the planet all year round and carrying on their business on Nexon through proxies. Robot factories were established on Solaria. Farms and mines began to be exploited to the point where exports were possible.

“In short, Mr. Baley, it became obvious that Solaria, in the space of a century or less, would be as crowded as Nexon had been. It seemed ridiculous and wasteful to find such a new world and then lose it through lack of foresight.

“To spare you a great deal of complicated politics, I need say only that Solaria managed to establish its independence and make it stick without war. Our usefulness to other Outer Worlds as a source of specialty robots gained us friends and helped us, of course.

“Once independent, our first care was to make sure that population did not grow beyond reasonable limits. We regulate immigration and births and take care of all needs by increasing and diversifying the robots we use.”

Baley said, “Why is it the Solarians object to seeing one another?” He felt annoyed at the manner in which Quemot chose to expound sociology.

Quemot peeped around the corner of his chair and retreated almost at once. “It follows inevitably. We have huge estates. An estate ten thousand square miles in area is not uncommon, although the largest ones contain considerable unproductive areas. My own estate is nine hundred fifty square miles in area but every bit of it is good land.

“In any case, it is the size of an estate, more than anything else, that determines a man’s position in society. And one property of a large estate is this: You can wander about in it almost aimlessly with little or no danger of entering a neighbor’s territory and thus encountering your neighbor. You see?”

Baley shrugged. “I suppose I do.”

“In short, a Solarian takes pride in not meeting his neighbor. At the same time, his estate is so well run by robots and so self sufficient that there is no reason for him to have to meet his neighbor. The desire not to do so led to the development of ever more perfect viewing equipment, and as the viewing equipment grew better there was

less and less need ever to see one’s neighbor. It was a reinforcing cycle, a kind of feed back. Do you see?”

Baley said, “Look here, Dr. Quemot. You don’t have to make all this so simple for me. I’m not a sociologist but I’ve had the usual elementary courses in college. It’s only an Earth college, of course,” Baley added with a reluctant modesty designed to ward off the same comment, in more insulting terms, from the other, “but I can follow mathematics.”

“Mathematics?” said Quemot, his voice squeaking the last syllable.

“Well, not the stuff they use in robotics, which I wouldn’t follow, but sociological relationships I can handle. For instance, I’m familiar with the Teramin Relationship.”