“We go to concerts, I took her to the Art Institute a few times, and we work together. I told you that. We go over my designs—or her designs—together. To be perfectly honest, I don’t see that working on robots is very rewarding, but we all have our own notions, you know. For that matter, she seemed to be amused when I explained why it was so important to cut hair correctly—her own hair isn’t quite right, you know. But mostly, we go for walks.”

“Walks? Where?”

“Nowhere particularly. Just walks. That is her habit—because of the way she was brought up on Solaria. Have you ever been on Solaria?—Yes, you have been, of course. I’m sorry.—On Solaria, there are these huge estates with only one or two human beings on them, just robots otherwise. You can walk for miles and be completely alone and Gladia says that it makes you feel as though you owned the entire planet. The robots are always there, of course, keeping an eye on you and taking care of you, but, of course, they keep out of sight. Gladia misses that feeling of world ownership here on Aurora.”

“Do you mean that she wants world ownership?”

“You mean a kind of lust for power? Gladia? That’s crazy. All she means is that she misses the feeling of being alone with nature. I don’t see it myself, you understand, but I like humoring her. Of course, you can’t quite get the Solarian feeling in Aurora. There are bound to be people about, especially in the Eos metropolitan area, and robots haven’t been programmed to keep out of sight. In fact, Aurorans generally walk with robots.—Still, I know some routes that are pleasant and not very crowded and Gladia enjoys them.”

“Do you enjoy them, too?”

“Well, only because I would be with Gladia. Aurorans are walkers, too, by and large, but I must admit I’m not. I had protesting muscles at first and Vasilia laughed at me.”

“She knew you went on walks did she?”

“Well, I came in limping one day and creaking at the thighs, so I had to explain. She laughed and said it was a good idea and the best way to get a walker to accept an offer was to walk with them. ‘Keep it up,’ she said, ‘and she’ll cancel her rejection before you get a chance to offer again. She’ll make the offer herself.’ As it happened, Gladia didn’t, but eventually I grew to like the walks very much, just the same.”

He seemed to have gotten over his flash of anger and was now very much at his ease. He might have been thinking of the walks, Baley thought, for there was a half-smile on his face. He looked rather likable—and vulnerable—with his mind back on who-knew-what conversational passage on a walk that had taken them who-knew-where. Baley almost smiled in response.

“Vasilia knew, then, that you continued the walks.”

“I suppose so. I began to take Wednesdays and Saturdays off because that fit in with Gladia’s schedule choice—and Vasilia would sometimes joke about my ‘WS walks’ when I brought in some sketches.”

“Did Dr. Vasilia ever join the walks?”

“Certainly not.”

Baley shifted in his seat and stared intently at his fingertips as he said, “I presume you had robots accompanying you on your walks.”

“Absolutely. One of mine, one of hers. They kept rather out of the way, though. They didn’t tag along in what Gladia called Aurora fashion. She wanted Solarian solitude, she said. So I obliged, though at first I got a crick in my neck looking around to see if Brundij was with me.”

“And which robot accompanied Gladia?”

“It wasn’t always the same one. Whichever he was, he held off, too. I didn’t get to talk to him.”

“What about Jander?”

Some of the sunniness left Gremionis’ expression at once.

“What about him?” he asked.

“Did he ever come along? If he did, you would know, wouldn’t you?”

“A humaniform robot? I certainly would. And he did not accompany us—not ever.”

“Are you certain?”

“Completely certain.” Gremionis scowled. “I imagine she thought him far too valuable to waste on duties any ordinary robot could perform.”

“You seem annoyed. Did you think so, too?”

“He was her robot. I didn’t worry about it.”

“And you never saw him when you were at Gladia’s establishment?”

“Never.

“Did she ever say anything about him? Discuss him?”

“Not that I recall.”

“Didn’t you consider that strange?”

Gremionis shook his head. “No. Why talk about robots?”

Baley’s, somber eyes fixed on the other’s face. “Did you have any idea of the relationship between Gladia and Jander?”

Gremionis said, “Are you going to tell me that there was sex between them?”

Baley said, “Would you be surprised if I did?”

Gremionis said stolidly, “It happens. It’s not unusual. You can use a robot sometimes, if you feel like it. And a humaniform robot—completely humaniform, I believe—”

“Completely,” said Baley with an appropriate gesture.

Gremionis’ lips curved downward. “Well, then, it would be hard for a woman to resist.”

“She resisted you. Doesn’t it bother you that Gladia would prefer a robot to you?”

“Well, if it comes to that, I’m not sure that I believe this is true—but if it is, it’s nothing to worry about. A robot is just a robot. A woman and a robot—or a man and a robot—it’s just masturbation.”

“You honestly never knew of the relationship, Mr. Gremionis? You never suspected?”

“I never gave it any thought,” insisted Gremionis.

“Didn’t know? Or did know, but paid it no mind?”

Gremionis scowled. “You’re pushing again. What do you want me to say? Now that you put it into my head and push, it seems to me, if I look back, that maybe I was wondering about something like that. Just the same, I never felt anything was happening before you started asking questions.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Don’t badger me.”

“I’m not badgering you. I’m just wondering if it were possible that you did know that Gladia was regularly engaging in sex with Jander, that you knew that you would never be accepted as her lover as long as that was so, that you wanted her, so much that you would stop at nothing to eliminate Jander, that, in short, you were so jealous that you—”

And at that moment, Gremionis—as though some tightly coiled spring, held back with difficulty for some minutes, had suddenly twitched loose—hurled himself at Baley with a loud and incoherent cry. Baley, taken completely by surprise, pushed backward instinctively and his chair went over.

There were strong arms upon him at once. Baley felt himself lifted, the chair righted, and was aware that he was in the grip of a robot. How easy it was to forget they were in the room when they stood silent and motionless in their niches.

It was neither Daneel nor Giskard who had come to his rescue, however. It was Gremionis’ robot, Brundij.

“Sir,” said Brundij, his voice just a bit unnatural, “I hope you are not hurt.”

Where were Daneel and Giskard?

The question answered itself at once. The robots had divided the labor neatly and quickly. Daneel and Giskard, estimating instantly that an overturned chair offered less chance of harm to Baley than a maddened Gremionis, had launched themselves at the host. Brundij, seeing at once that he was not needed in that direction, saw to the welfare of the guest.

Gremionis—still standing, his breath heaving—was completely immobilized in the careful double-grasp of Baley’s robots.

Gremionis said, in very little above a whisper, “Release me. I am in control of myself.”

“Yes, sir,” said Giskard.

“Of course, Mr. Gremionis,” said Daneel with what was almost suavity.

But although their arms released their hold, neither moved back for a period of time. Gremionis looked right and left, adjusted the smoothness of his clothing, and then, deliberately, sat down. His breathing was still rapid and his hair was—to a small extent, in disarray.