But Gladia answered in purely qualitative terms. "Mid afternoon," she said.
"Then that's it for Leebig's estate also?"
"Oh yes."
"Good. I'll view you again as soon as I can and we'll make arrangements for seeing."
Again she grew hesitant. "Is it absolutely necessary?"
"It is."
She said in a low voice, "Very well."
There was some delay in contacting Leebig and Baley utilized it in consuming another sandwich, one that was brought to him in its original packaging. But he had grown more cautious. He inspected the seal carefully before breaking it, then looked over the contents painstakingly.
He accepted a plastic container of milk, not quite unfrozen, bit an opening with his own teeth, and drank from it directly. He thought gloomily that there were such things as odorless, tasteless, slow-acting poisons that could be introduced delicately by means of hypodermic needles or high-pressure needle jets, then put the thought aside as being childish.
So far murders and attempted murders had been committed in the most direct possible fashion. There was nothing delicate or subtle about a blow on the head, enough poison in a glass to kill a dozen men, or a poisoned arrow shot openly at the victim.
And then he thought, scarcely less gloomily, that as long as he hopped between time zones in this fashion, he was scarcely likely to have regular meals. Or, if this continued, regular sleep.
The robot approached him. "Dr. Leebig directs you to call sometime tomorrow. He is engaged in important work."
Baley bounced to his feet and roared, "You tell that guy - "
He stopped. There was no use in yelling at a robot. That is, you could yell if you wished, but it would achieve results no sooner than a whisper.
He said in a conversational tone, "You tell Dr. Leebig, or his robot if that is as far as you've reached, that I am investigating the murder of a professional associate of his and a good Solarian. You tell him that I cannot wait on his work. You tell him that if I am not viewing him in five minutes, I will be in a plane and at his estate seeing
him in less than an hour. You use that word, seeing, so there's no mistake."
He returned to his sandwich.
The five minutes were not quite gone, when Leebig, or at least a Solarian whom Baley presumed to be Leebig, was glaring at him.
Baley glared back. Leebig was a lean man, who held himself rigidly erect. His dark, prominent eyes had a look of intense abstraction about them, compounded now with anger. One of his eyelids drooped slightly.
He said, "Are you the Earthman?"
"Elijah Baley," said Baley, "Plainclothesman C-7, in charge of the investigation into the murder of Dr. Rikaine Delmarre. What is your name?"
"I'm Dr. Jothan Leebig. Why do you presume to annoy me at my work?"
"It's easy," said Baley quietly. "It's my business."
"Then take your business elsewhere."
"I have a few questions to ask first, Doctor. I believe you were a close associate of Dr. Delmarre. Right?"
One of Leebig's hands clenched suddenly into a fist and he strode hastily toward a mantelpiece on which tiny clockwork contraptions went through complicated periodic motions that caught hypnotically at the eye.
The viewer kept focused on Leebig so that his figure did not depart from central projection as he walked. Rather the room behind him seemed to move backward in little rises and dips as he strode.
Leebig said, "If you are the foreigner whom Gruer threatened to bring in - "
"I am."
"Then you are here against my advice. Done viewing."
"Not yet. Don't break contact." Baley raised his voice sharply and a finger as well. He pointed it directly at the roboticist, who shrank visibly away from it, full lips spreading into an expression of disgust.
Baley said, "I wasn't bluffing about seeing you, you know."
"No Earthman vulgarity, please."
"A straightforward statement is what it is intended to be. I will see you, if I can't make you listen any other way. I will grab you by the collar and make you listen."
Leebig stared back. "You are a filthy animal."
"Have it your way, but I will do as I say."
"If you try to invade my estate, I will - I will - "
Baley lifted his eyebrows. "Kill me? Do you often make such threats?"
"I made no threat."
"Then talk now. In the time you have wasted, a good deal might have been accomplished. You were a close associate of Dr. Delmarre. Right?"
The roboticist's head lowered. His shoulders moved slightly to a slow, regular breathing. When he looked up, he was in command of himself. He even managed a brief, sapless smile.
"I was."
"Delmarre was interested in new types of robots, I understand."
"He was."
"What kind?"
"Are you a roboticist?"
"No. Explain it for the layman."
"I doubt that I can."
"Try! For instance, I think he wanted robots capable of disciplining children. What would that involve?"
Leebig raised his eyebrows briefly and said, "To put it very simply, skipping all the subtle details, it means a strengthening of the Cintegral governing the Sikorovich tandem route response at the W-65 level."
"Double-talk," said Baley.
"The truth."
"It's double-talk to me. How else can you put it?"
"It means a certain weakening of the First Law."
"Why so? A child is disciplined for its own future good. Isn't that the theory?"
"Ah, the future good!" Leebig's eyes glowed with passion and he seemed to grow less conscious of his listener and correspondingly more talkative. "A simple concept, you think. How many human beings are willing to accept a trifling inconvenience for the sake of a large future good? How long does it take to train a child that what tastes good now means a stomach-ache later, and what tastes bad now will correct the stomach-ache later? Yet you want a robot to be able to understand?