Little about the murder, to be sure, but more about the larger matter.

The robot returned. “The assistant will accept contact, master.”

“Good. Was there any trouble about it?”

“The assistant was asleep, master.”

“Awake now, though?”

“Yes, master.”

The assistant was facing him suddenly, sitting up in bed and wearing an expression of sullen resentment.

Baley reared back as though a force-barrier had been raised before him without warning. Once again a piece of vital information had been withheld from him. Once again he had not asked the right questions.

No one had thought to tell him that Rikaine Delmarre’s assistant was a woman.

Her hair was a trifle darker than ordinary Spacer bronze and there was a quantity of it, at the moment in disorder. Her face was oval, her nose a trifle bulbous, and her chin large. She scratched slowly at her side just above the waist and Baley hoped the sheet would remain in position. He remembered Gladia’s free attitude toward what was permitted while viewing.

Baley felt a sardonic amusement at his own disillusion at that moment. Earthmen assumed, somehow, that all Spacer women were beautiful, and certainly Gladia had reinforced that assumption. This one, though, was plain even by Earthly standards.

It therefore surprised Baley that he found her contralto attractive when she said, “See here, do you know what time it is?”

“I do,” said Baley, “but since I will be seeing you, I felt I should warn you.

“Seeing me? Skies above—“ Her eyes grew wide and she put a hand to her chin. (She wore a ring on one finger, the first item of personal adornment Baley had yet seen on Solaria.) “Wait, you’re not my new assistant, are you?”

“No. Nothing like that. I’m here to investigate the death of Rikaine Delmarre.”

“Oh? Well, investigate, then.”

“What is your name?”

“Kiorissa Cantoro.”

“And how long have you been working with Dr. Delmarre?”

“Three years.”

“I assume you’re now at the place of business.” (Baley felt uncomfortable at that noncommittal phrase, but he did not know what to call a place where a fetal engineer worked.)

“If you mean, am I at the farm?” said Kiorissa discontentedly, “I certainly am. I haven’t left it since the old man was done in, and I won’t leave it, looks like, till an assistant is assigned me. Can you arrange that, by the way?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I have no influence with anyone here.”

“Thought I’d ask.”

Kiorissa pulled off the sheet and climbed out of bed without any self consciousness. She was wearing a one-piece sleeping suit and her hand went to the notch of the seam, where it ended at the neck.

Baley said hurriedly, “Just one moment. If you’ll agree to see me, that will end my business with you for now and you may dress in privacy.”

“In privacy?” She put out her lower lip and stared at Baley curiously. “You’re finicky, aren’t you? Like the boss.”

“Will you see me? I would like to look over the farm.”

“I don’t get this business about seeing, but if you want to view the farm I’ll tour you. If you’ll give me a chance to wash and take care of a few things and wake up a little, I’ll enjoy the break in routine.”

“I don’t want to view anything. I want to see.”

The woman cocked her head to one side and her keen look had something of professional interest in it. “Are you a pervert or something? When was the last time you underwent a gene analysis?”

“Jehoshaphat!” muttered Baley. “Look, I’m Elijah Baley. I’m from Earth.”

“From Earth?” She cried vehemently. “Skies above! Whatever are you doing here? Or is this some kind of complicated joke?”

“I’m not joking. I was called in to investigate Delmarre’s death. I’m a plainclothesman, a detective.”

“You mean that kind of investigation. But I thought everyone knew his wife did it.”

“No, ma’am, there’s some question about it in my mind. May I have your permission to see the farm and you. As an Earthman, you understand, I’m not accustomed to viewing. It makes me uncomfort

able. I have permission from the Head of Security to see people who might help me. I will show you the document, if you wish.”

“Let’s see it.”

Baley held the official strip up before her imaged eyes.

She shook her head. “Seeing! It’s filthy. Still, skies above, what’s a little more filth in this filthy job? Look here, though, don’t you come close to me. You stay a good distance away. We can shout or send messages by robot, if we have to. You understand?”

“I understand.”

Her sleeping suit split open at the seam just as contact broke off and the last word he heard from her was a muttered: “Earthman!”

“That’s close enough,” said Klorissa.

Baley, who was some twenty-five feet from the woman, said, “It’s all right this distance, but I’d like to get indoors quickly.”

It had not been so bad this time, somehow. He had scarcely minded the plane trip, but there was no point in overdoing it. He kept himself from yanking at his collar to allow himself to breathe more freely.

Klorissa said sharply, “What’s wrong with you? You look kind of beat.”

Baley said, “I’m not used to the outdoors.”

“That’s right! Earthman! You’ve got to be cooped up or something. Skies above!” Her tongue passed over her lips as though it tasted something unappetizing. “Well, come in, then, but let me move out of the way first. All right. Get in.”

Her hair was in two thick braids that wound about her head in a complicated geometrical pattern. Baley wondered how long it took to arrange like that and then remembered that, in all probability, the unerring mechanical fingers of a robot did the job.

The hair set off her oval face and gave it a kind of symmetry that made it pleasant if not pretty. She did not wear any facial makeup, nor, for that matter, were her clothes meant to do more than cover her serviceably. For the most part they were a subdued dark blue except for her gloves, which covered her to mid-arm and were a badly clashing lilac in color. Apparently they were not part of her ordinary costume. Baley noted the thickening of one finger of the gloves owing to the presence of the ring underneath.

They remained at opposite ends of the room, facing one another.

Baley said, “You don’t like this, do you, ma’am?”

Kiorissa shrugged. “Why should I like it? I’m not an animal. But I can stand it. You get pretty hardened, when you deal with—with”—she paused, and then her chin went up as though she had made up her mind to say what she had to say without mincing—“with children.” She pronounced the word with careful precision.

“You sound as though you don’t like the job you have.”

“It’s an important job. It must be done. Still, I don’t like it.”

“Did Pdkaine Delmarre like it?”

“I suppose he didn’t, but he never showed it. He was a good Solarian.”

“And he was finicky.”

Klorissa looked surprised.

Baley said, “You yourself said so. When we were viewing and I said you might dress in private, you said I was finicky like the boss.”

“Oh. Well, he was finicky. Even viewing he never took any liberties. Always proper.”

“Was that unusual?”

“It shouldn’t be. Ideally, you’re supposed to be proper, but no one ever is. Not when viewing. There’s no personal presence involved so why take any pains? You know? I don’t take pains when viewing, except with the boss. You had to be formal with him.”

“Did you admire Dr. Delmarre?”

“He was a good Solarian.”

Baley said, “You’ve called this place a farm and you’ve mentioned children. Do you bring up children here?”

“From the age of a month. Every fetus on Solaria comes here.”

“Fetus?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “We get them a month after conception. Does this embarrass you?”

“No,” Baley said shortly. “Can you show me around?”

“I can. But keep your distance.”