“What happened to those humanoid robots?”

“The project failed.”

In his turn, Daneel said, “This is well known. But it does not answer the question. What happened to those humanoid robots?”

“One can assume they were destroyed.”

“Such an assumption need not necessarily be correct. Were they, in actual fact, destroyed?”

“That would have been the sensible thing to do. What else with a failure?”

“How do we know the humanoid robots were a failure, except in that they were removed from sight?”

“Isn’t that sufficient, if they were removed from sight and destroyed?”

“I did not say ‘and destroyed,’ friend Giskard. That is more than we know. We know only that they were removed from sight.”

“Why should that be so, unless they were failures?”

“And if they were not failures, might there be no reason for their being removed from sight?”

“I can think of none, friend Daneel.”

“Think again, friend Giskard. Remember, we are talking now of humanoid robots who, we now think, might from the mere fact of their humanoid nature be dangerous. It has seemed to us in our previous discussion that there was a plan on foot on Aurora to defeat the Settlers drastically, surely, and at a blow. We decided that these plans must be centered on the planet Earth. Am I correct so far?”

“Yes, friend Daneel.”

“Then might it not be that Dr. Amadiro is at the focus and center of this plan? His antipathy to Earth has been made plain these twenty decades. And if Dr. Amadiro has constructed a number of humanoid robots, where might these have been sent if they have disappeared from view? Remember that if Solarian roboticists can distort the Three Laws, Auroran roboticists can do the same.”

“Are you suggesting, friend Daneel, that the humanoid robots have been sent to Earth?”

“Exactly. There to deceive the Earthpeople through their human appearance and to make possible whatever it is that Dr. Amadiro intends as his blow against Earth.”

“You have no evidence for this.”

“Yet it is possible. Consider for yourself the steps of the argument.”

“If that were so, we would have to go to Earth. We would have to be there and somehow prevent the disaster.”

“Yes, that is so.”

“But we cannot go unless Lady Gladia goes and that is not likely.”

“If you can influence the captain to take this ship to Earth, Madam Gladia would have no choice but to go as well.”

Giskard said, “I cannot without harming him. He is firmly set on going to his own planet of Baleyworld. We must maneuver his trip to Earth—if we can—after he has done whatever he plans in Baleyworld.”

“Afterward may be too late.”

“I cannot help that. I must not harm a human being.”

“If it is too late—Friend Giskard, consider what that would mean.”

“I cannot consider what that would mean. I know only that I cannot harm a human being.”

“Then the First Law is not enough and we must—” He could go no farther and both robots lapsed into helpless silence.

Baleyworld came slowly into sharper view as the ship approached it. Gladia watched it intently in her cabin’s viewer; it was the first time she had ever seen a Settler world.

She had protested this leg of the journey when she had first been made aware of it by D.G., but he shrugged it off with a small laugh. “What would you have, my lady? I must lug this weapon of your people”—he emphasized “your” slightly—“to my people. And I must report to them, too.”

Gladia said, coldly, “Your permission to take me along to Solaria was granted you by the Auroran Council on the condition that you bring me back.”

“Actually that is not so, my lady. There may have been some informal understanding to that effect, but there is nothing in writing. No formal agreement.”

“An informal understanding would bind me—or any civilized individual, D.G.”

“I’m sure of that, Madam Gladia, but we Traders live by money and by written signatures on legal documents. I would never, under any circumstances, violate a written contract or refuse to do that for which I have accepted payment.”

Gladia’s chin turned upward. “Is that a hint that I must pay you in order to be taken home?”

“Madam!”

“Come, come, D.G. Don’t waste mock indignation on me. If I am to be kept prisoner on your planet, say so and tell me why. Let me know exactly where I stand.”

“You are not my prisoner and will not be. In fact, I will honor this unwritten understanding. I will take you home—eventually. First, however, I must go to Baleyworld and you must come with me.”

“Why must I come with you?”

“The people of my world will want to see you. You are the heroine of Solaria. You saved us. You can’t deprive them of a chance of shouting themselves hoarse for you. Besides, you were the good friend of the Ancestor.”

“What do they know—or think they know—of that?” Gladia said sharply.

D.G. grinned. “Nothing to your discredit—I assure you. You are a legend and legends are larger than life—though I admit it would be easy for a legend to be larger than you, my lady—and a good deal nobler. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t want you on the world because you couldn’t live up to the legend. You’re not tall enough, beautiful enough, majestic enough. But when the story of Solaria comes out, you will suddenly meet all requirements. In fact, they may not want to let you go. You must remember we are talking of Baleyworld, the planet on which the story of the Ancestor is taken more seriously than on any other—and you are part of the story.”

“You are not to use that as an excuse to keep me in prison.”

“I promise you I won’t. And I promise I will get you home—when I can—when I can.”

Gladia did not remain as indignant somehow as she felt she had every right to be. She did want to see what a Settler world was like and, after all, this was Elijah Baley’s peculiar world. His son had founded it. He himself had spent his last decades here. On Baleyworld, there would be remnants of him—the name of the planet, his descendants, his legend.

So she watched the planet—and thought of Elijah.

The watching brought her little and she felt disappointed. There was not much to be seen through the cloud layer that covered the planet. From her relatively small experience as a space traveler it seemed to her that the cloud layer was denser than usual for inhabited planets. They would be landing within hours, now, and—

The signal light flashed and Gladia scrambled to push the HOLD button in answer. A few moments more and she pushed the ENTER button.

D.G. came in, smiling. “Inconvenient moment, my lady?”

“Not really,” said Gladia. “Simply a matter of putting on my gloves and inserting my nose plugs. I suppose I should wear them all the time, but both grow tiresome and, for some reason, I grow less concerned about infection.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt, my lady.”

“Let’s not call it contempt,” said Gladia, who found herself smiling.

“Thank you,” said D.G. “We’ll be landing soon, madam, and I have brought you a coverall, carefully sterilized and placed inside this plastic bag so that it has since been untouched by Settler hands. It’s simple to put on. You’ll have no trouble and you’ll find it covers everything but the nose and eyes.”

“Just for me, D.G.?”

“No, no, my lady. We all wear such things when outdoors at this season of the year. It is winter in our capital city at the present time and it is cold. We live on a rather cold world—heavy cloud cover, much precipitation, often snow.”

“Even in the tropical regions?”

“No, there it tends to be hot and dry. The population clusters in the cooler regions, however. We rather like it. It’s bracing and stimulating. The seas, which were seeded with Earth species of life, are fertile, so that fish and other creatures have multiplied abundantly. There’s no food shortage, consequently, even though land agriculture is limited and we’ll never be the breadbasket of the Galaxy.—The summers are short but quite hot and the beaches are then well populated, although you might find them uninteresting since we have a strong nudity taboo.”