Susan Calvin glanced thoughtfully at the young engineer's sweating, angry face.
Black shouted, "Send one of your robots, one of your NS-2 jobs."
The psychologist's eye reflected a kind of cold glitter. She said with deliberation, "Yes, Dr. Schloss suggested that. But the NS-2 robots are leased by our firm, not sold. They cost millions of dollars apiece, you know. I represent the company and I have decided that they are too expensive to be risked in a matter such as this."
Black lifted his hands. They clenched and trembled close to his chest as though he were forcibly restraining them. "You're telling me-you're saying you want me to go instead of a robot because I'm more expendable."
"It comes to that, yes."
"Dr. Calvin," said Black, "I'd see you in hell first."
"That statement might be almost literally true, Dr. Black. As General Kallner will confirm, you are ordered to take this assignment. You are under quasi-military law here, I understand, and if you refuse an assignment, you can be court-martialed. A case like this will mean Mercury prison and I believe that will be close enough to hell to make your statement uncomfortably accurate were I to visit you, though I probably would not. On the other hand, if you agree to board the Parsec and carry through this job, it will mean a great deal for your career."
Black glared, red-eyed, at her.
Susan Calvin said, "Give the man five minutes to think about this, General Kallner, and get a ship ready."
Two security guards escorted Black out of the room.
Gerald Black felt cold. His limbs moved as though they were not part of him. It was as though he were watching himself from some remote, safe place, watching himself board a ship and make ready to leave for It and for the Parsec.
He couldn't quite believe it. He had bowed his head suddenly and said, "I'll go."
But why?
He had never thought of himself as the hero type. Then why? Partly, of course, there was the threat of Mercury prison. Partly it was the awful reluctance to appear a coward in the eyes of those who knew him, that deeper cowardice that was behind half the bravery in the world.
Mostly, though, it was something else.
Ronson of Interplanetary Press had stopped Black momentarily as he was on his way to the ship. Black looked at Ronson's Bushed face and said. "What do you want?"
Ronson babbled. "Listen! When you get back, I want it exclusive. I'll arrange any payment you want-anything you want-"
Black pushed him aside, sent him sprawling, and walked on.
The ship had a crew of two. Neither spoke to him. Their glances slid over and under and around him. Black didn't mind that. They were scared spitless themselves and their ship was approaching the Parsec like a kitten skittering sideways toward the first dog it had ever seen. He could do without them.
There was only one face that he kept seeing. The anxious expression of General Kallner and the look of synthetic determination on Schloss's face were momentary punctures on his consciousness. They healed almost at once. It was Susan Calvin's unruffled face that he saw. Her calm expressionlessness as he boarded the ship.
He stared into the blackness where Hyper Base had already disappeared into space-
Susan Calvin! Doctor Susan Calvin! Robopsychologist Susan Calvin! The robot that walks like a woman!
What were her three laws, he wondered. First Law: Thou shalt protect the robot with all thy might and all thy heart and all thy soul. Second Law: Thou shalt hold the interests of U. S. Robots and Mechanical Men Corporation holy provided it interfereth not with the First Law. Third Law: Thou shalt give passing consideration to a human being provided it interfereth not with the First and Second laws.
Had she ever been young, he wondered savagely? Had she ever felt one honest emotion?
Space! How he wanted to do something-something that would take that frozen look of nothing off her face.
And he would!
By the stars, he would. Let him but get out of this sane and he would see her smashed and her company with her and all the vile brood of robots with them. It was that thought that was driving him more than fear of prison or desire for social prestige. It was that thought that almost robbed him of fear altogether. Almost.
One of the pilots muttered at him, without looking, "You can drop down from here. It's half a mile under."
Black said bitterly, "Aren't you landing?"
"Strict orders not to. The vibration of the landing might-"
"What about the vibration of my landing?" The pilot said, "I've got my orders."
Black said no more but climbed into his suit and waited for the inner lock to open. A tool kit was welded firmly to the metal of the suit about his right thigh.
Just as he stepped into the lock, the earpieces inside his helmet rumbled at him. "Wish you luck, doctor."
It took a moment for him to realize that it came from the two men aboard ship, pausing in their eagerness to get out of that haunted volume of space to give him that much, anyway.
"Thanks," said Black awkwardly, half resentfully.
And then he was out in space, tumbling slowly as the result of the slightly off-center thrust of feet against outer lock.
He could see the Parsec waiting for him, and by looking between his legs at the right moment of the tumble he could see the long hiss of the lateral jets of the ship that had brought him, as it turned to leave.
He was alone! Space, he was alone!
Could any man in history ever have felt so alone?
Would he know, he wondered sickly, if-if anything happened? Would there be any moments of realization? Would he feel his mind fade and the light of reason and thought dim and blank out?
Or would it happen suddenly, like the cut of a force knife? In either case