"But if you cannot study it effectively?"
Although Giskard's voice was incapable of showing emotion in the human sense, there was no missing the despair in his words, He said, "Then that will leave me helpless. I can only follow the Laws. What else can I do?"
And Daneel said softly and dispiritedly, "Nothing else."
4
Gladia entered her living room at 08:15, having purposely - and with a touch of spite - determined to allow Mandamus (she had now reluctantly memorized his name) to wait for her. She had also taken particular pains with her appearance and (for the first time in years) had agonized over the gray in her hair and had fleetingly wished she had followed the almost universal Auroran practice of shade control. After all, to look as young and attractive as possible would put this minion of Amadiro's at a further disadvantage.
She was thoroughly prepared to dislike him at sight was depressingly aware that he might prove, young and attractive, that a sunny face might break into a brilliant smile at her appearance, that she might prove reluctantly attracted to him.
In consequence, she was relieved at the sight of him. He was young, yes, and probably had not yet completed his first half-century, but he hadn't made the best of that. He was tall - perhaps 185 centimeters in height, she judged but too thin. It made him appear spindly. His hair was a shade too dark for an Auroran, his eyes a rather faded hazel, his face too long, his lips too thin, his mouth too broad, his complexion insufficiently fair. But what robbed him of the true appearance of youth was that his expression was too prim, too humorless.
With a flash of insight, Gladia remembered the historical novels that were such a fad on Aurora (novels that invariably dealt with primitive Earth - which was odd for a world that was increasingly hating Earthpeople) and thought: Why, he's the picture of a Puritan.
She felt relieved and almost smiled. Puritans were usually pictured as villains and, whether this Mandamus was indeed one or not, it was convenient to have him look like one.
But when he spoke Gladia was disappointed, for his voice was soft and distinctly musical. (It ought to have possessed a nasal twang if it were to fulfill the stereotype.) He said, "Mrs. Gremionis?"
She held out her hand with a carefully condescending smile. "Mr. Mandamus. - Please call me Gladia. Everyone does."
"I know you use your given name professionally - "
"I use it in every way. And my marriage came to an amicable end several decades ago."
"It lasted for a long, time, I believe."
"A very long time. It was a great success, but even great successes come to a natural end."
"Ah," said Mandamus sententiously. "To continue past the end might well turn success into failure."
Gladia nodded and said with a trace of a smile, "How wise for one so young. - But shall we move into the dining room? Breakfast is ready and I have surely delayed you long enough."
It was only as Mandamus turned with her and adjusted his steps to hers that Gladia became aware of his two accompanying robots. It was quite unthinkable for any Auroran to go anywhere without a robotic retinue, but as long as robots stood still they made no impression on the Auroran eye.
Gladia, looking at them quickly, saw that they were late models, clearly expensive. Their pseudo-clothing was elaborate and, although it was not of Gladia's design, it was first-class. Gladia had to admit so much to herself, though reluctantly - She would have to find out who had designed it someday, for she did not recognize the touch and she might be about to have a new and formidable competitor. She found herself admiring the manner in which the style of pseudo-clothing was distinctly the same for both robots, while remaining distinctly individual for each. You could not mistake one for the other.
Mandamus caught her swift look and interpreted her expression with disconcerting accuracy. (He is intelligent, thought Gladia, disappointed.) He said, "The exodesign of my robots was created by a young man at the Institute who has not yet made a name for himself. But he will, don't you think?"
"Definitely," said Gladia.
Gladia did not expect any business discussion till breakfast was done. It would be the height of ill breeding to speak of anything but trivia during meals and Gladia guessed that Mandamus was not at his best with trivia. There was the weather, of course. The recent siege of rain, now happily done with, was mentioned and the prospects for the oncoming dry season. There was the almost mandatory expression of admiration for the hostess's establishment and Gladia accepted it with practiced modesty. She did nothing to ease the strain on the man, but let him search for subject matter without help.
At length, his eye fell on Daneel, standing quietly and without motion in his wall niche, and Mandamus managed to overcome his Auroran indifference and notice him.
"Ah," he said, "clearly the famous R. Daneel Olivaw. He's absolutely unmistakable. A rather remarkable specimen."
"Quite remarkable."
"He's yours now, isn't he? By Fastolfe's will?"
"By Doctor Fastolfe's will, yes," said Gladia with faint emphasis.
"It strikes me as amazing that the Institute's line of humanoid robots failed as it did. Have you ever thought about it?"
"I have heard of it," said Gladia cautiously. (Could it be that this was what he was getting around to?) "I'm not aware of having spent much time thinking about it."
"Sociologists are still trying to understand it. Certainly, we at the Institute never got over the disappointment. It seemed like such a natural development. Some of us think that Fa - Dr. Fastolfe somehow had something to do with it."