Also from a distance he heard the sighing hum piercing the air above him and ending with a sharp thwack.

Baley closed his eyes and his fingers clutched a thin tree root that skimmed the surface of the ground and his nails burrowed into dirt.

He opened his eyes (it must only have been moments after). Klorissa was scolding sharply at a youngster who remained at a distance. A robot, silent, stood closer to Klorissa. Baley had only time to notice the youngster held a stringed object in his hand before his eyes sheered away.

Breathing heavily, Baley struggled to his feet. He stared at the shaft of glistening metal that remained in the trunk of the tree against which he had been standing. He pulled at it and it came out readily. It had not penetrated far. He looked at the point but did not touch it. It was blunted, but it would have sufficed to tear his skin had he not dropped when he did.

It took him two tries to get his legs moving. He took a step toward Klorissa and called, “You. Youngster.”

Klorissa turned, her face flushed. She said, “It was an accident. Are you hurt?”

No! What is this thing?

“It’s an arrow. It is fired by a bow, which makes a taut string do the work.”

“Like this,” called the youngster impudently, and he shot another arrow into the air, then burst out laughing. He had light hair and a lithe body.

Klorissa said, “You will be disciplined. Now leave!”

“Wait, wait,” cried Baley. He rubbed his knee where a rock had caught and bruised him as he had fallen. “I have some questions. What is your name?”

“Bik,” he said carelessly.

“Did you shoot that arrow at me, Bik?”

“That’s right,” said the boy.

“Do you realize you would have hit me if I hadn’t been warned in time to duck?”

Bik shrugged. “I was aiming to hit.”

Klorissa spoke hurriedly. “You must let me explain. Archery is an encouraged sport. It is competitive without requiring contact. We have contests among the boys using viewing only. Now I’m afraid some of the boys will aim at robots. It amuses them and it doesn’t hurt the robots. I’m the only adult human on the estate and when the boy saw you, he must have assumed you were a robot.”

Baley listened. His mind was clearing, and the natural dourness of his long face intensified. He said, “Bik, did you think I was a robot?”

“No,” said the youngster. “You’re an Earthman.”

“All right. Go now.”

Bik turned and raced off whistling. Baley turned to the robot. “You! How did the youngster know I was an Earthman, or weren’t you with him when he shot?”

“I was with him, master. I told him you were an Earthman.”

“Did you tell him what an Earthman was?”

“Yes, master.”

“What is an Earthman?”

“An inferior sort of human that ought not to be allowed on Solaria because he breeds disease, master.”

“And who told you that, boy?”

The robot maintained silence.

Baley said, “Do you know who told you?”

“I do not, master. It is in my memory store.”

“So you told the boy I was a disease breeding inferior and he immediately shot at me. Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I would have, master. I would not have allowed harm to come to a human, even an Earthman. He moved too quickly and I was not fast enough.”

“Perhaps you thought I was just an Earthman, not completely a human, and hesitated a bit.”

“No, master.”

It was said with quiet calm, but Baley’s lips quirked grimly. The robot might deny it in all faith, but Baley felt that was exactly the factor involved.

Baley said, “What were you doing with the boy?”

“I was carrying his arrows, master.”

“May I see them?”

He held out his hand. The robot approached and delivered a dozen of them. Baley put the original arrow, the one that had hit the tree, carefully at his feet, and looked the others over one by one. He handed them back and lifted the original arrow again.

He said, “Why did you give this particular arrow to the boy?”

“No reason, master. He had asked for an arrow some time earlier and this was the one my hand touched first. He looked about for a target, then noticed you and asked who the strange human was. I explained—”

“I know what you explained. This arrow you handed him is the only one with gray vanes at the rear. The others have black vanes.”

The robot simply stared.

Baley said, “Did you guide the youngster here?”

“We walked randomly, master.”

The Earthman looked through the gap between two trees through which the arrow had hurled itself toward its mark. He said, “Would it happen, by any chance, that this youngster, Bik, was the best archer you have here?”

The robot bent his head. “He is the best, master.”

Klorissa gaped. “How did you ever come to guess that?”

“It follows,” said Baley dryly. “Now please observe this gray-vaned arrow and the others. The gray-vaned arrow is the only one that seems oily at the point. I’ll risk melodrama, ma’am, by saying that your warning saved my life. This arrow that missed me is poisoned.”

Klorissa said, “Impossible! Skies above, absolutely impossible!”

“Above or below or any way you wish it. Is there an animal on the farm that’s expendable? Get it and scratch it with the arrow and see what happens.”

“But why should anyone want to—”

Baley said harshly, “I know why. The question is, who?”

“No one.”

Baley felt the dizziness returning and he grew savage. He threw the arrow at her and she eyed the spot where it fell.

“Pick it up,” Baley cried, “and if you don’t want to test it, destroy it. Leave it there and you’ll have an accident if the children get at it.”

She picked it up hurriedly, holding it between forefinger and thumb.

Baley ran for the nearest entrance to the building and Klorissa was still holding the arrow, gingerly, when she followed him back indoors.

Baley felt a certain measure of equanimity return with the comfort of enclosure. He said, “Who poisoned the arrow?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“I suppose it isn’t likely the boy did it himself. Would you have any way of telling who his parents were?”

“We could check the records,” said Klorissa gloomily.

“Then you do keep records of relationships?”

“We have to for gene analysis.”

“Would the youngster know who his parents were?”

“Never,” said Klorissa energetically.

“Would he have any way of finding out?”

“He would have to break into the records room. Impossible.”

“Suppose an adult visited the estate and wanted to know who his child was—”

Klorissa flushed. “Very unlikely.”

“But suppose. Wou]d he be told if he were to ask?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t exactly illegal for him to know. It certainly isn’t customary.”

“Would you tell him?”

“I’d try not to. I know Dr. Delmarre wouldn’t have. He believed knowledge of relationship was for gene analysis only. Before him things may have been looser… . Why do you ask all this, anyway?”

“I don’t see how the youngster could have a motive on his own account. I thought that through his parents he might have.”

“This is all horrible.” In her disturbed state of mind Klorissa approached more closely than at any previous time. She even stretched out an arm in his direction. “How can it all be happening? The boss killed; you nearly killed. We have no motives for violence on Solaria. We all have all we can want, so there is no personal ambition. We have no knowledge of relationship, so there is no family ambition. We are all in good genic health.”

Her face cleared all at once. “Wait. This arrow can’t be poisoned. I shouldn’t let you convince me it is.”

“Why have you suddenly decided that?”

“The robot with Bik. He would never have allowed poison. It’s inconceivable that he could have done anything that might bring harm to a human being. The First Law of Robotics makes sure of that.”