Ben shook his head. "I don't think so, Dad. They wouldn't know where you were or how long it would take to find you. I don't think they would want to send a human being on an uncertain search."
"Yes? Well, - let's see how strong the order is. - R. Geronimo, go back to Headquarters and tell them I'll be at work at 09:00." Then I sharply, "Go back! That's an order!"
The robot hesitated perceptibly, then turned, moved away, turned again, made an attempt to come back toward Baley, and finally remained in one spot, its whole body vibrating.
Baley recognized it for what it was and muttered to Ben, "I may have to go. Jehoshaphat!"
What was troubling the robot, was what the roboticists called an equipotential of contradiction on the second level. Obedience was the Second Law and R. Geronimo was now suffering from two roughly equal and contradictory orders. Robot-block was what the general population called it or, more frequently, roblock for short.
Slowly, the robot turned. Its original order was the stronger, but not by much, so that its voice was slurred. "Master, I was told you might say that. If so I was to say - I - " It paused, then added hoarsely, "I was to say - if you are alone."
Baley nodded curtly to his son and Ben didn't wait. He knew when his father was Dad and when he was a policeman. Ben retreated hastily.
For a moment, Baley played irritably with the notion of strengthening his own order and making the roblock more nearly - complete, but that would surely cause the kind of damage that would require positronic analysis and reprogramming. The expense of that would be taken out of his salary and it might easily amount to a year's pay.
He said, "I withdraw my order. What were you told to say?"
R. Geronimo's voice at once cleared. "I was told to say that you are wanted in connection with Aurora."
Baley turned toward Ben and called out, "Give them another half hour and then say I want them back in. I've got to leave now."
And as he walked off with long strides, he said petulantly to the robot, "Why couldn't they tell you to say that at once? And why can't they program you to use a car so I wouldn't have to walk?"
He knew very well why that wasn't done. Any accident involving a robot-driven car would set off another antirobot riot.
He did not slacken his pace. There were two kilometers to walk before they even got to the City wall and, thereafter, they would have to reach Headquarters through heavy traffic.
Aurora? What kind of crisis was brewing now?
2
It took half an hour for Baley to reach the entranceway into the city and he stiffened himself for what he suspected ahead. Perhaps - perhaps - it wouldn't happen this time.
He reached the dividing plane between Outside and City, the wall that marked off chaos from civilization. He placed his hand over the signal patch and an opening appeared, as usual, he didn't wait for the opening to be completed, but slipped in as soon as it was wide enough. R. Geronimo followed.
The police sentry on duty looked startled, as he always did when someone came in from Outside. Each time there wag the same look of disbelief, the same coming to attention, the same sudden hand upon the blaster, the same frown of uncertainty Baley presented his identity card with a scowl and the sentry saluted. The door closed behind him and it happened.
Baley was inside the City. The walls closed around him and the City became the Universe. He was again immersed in the endless, eternal hum and odor of people and machinery that would soon fade below the threshold of consciousness; in the soft, indirect artificial light that was nothing at all like the partial and varying glare of the Outside, with its green and brown and blue and white and its interruptions of red and yellow. Here there was no erratic wind, no heat, no cold, no threat of rain; here there was instead the quiet permanence of unfelt air currents that kept everything fresh. Here was a designed combination of temperature and humidity so perfectly adjusted to humans it remained unsensed.
Baley felt his breath drawn in tremulously and he gladdened in the realization that he was home and safe with the known and knowable.
That was what always happened. Again he had accepted the City as the womb and moved back into it with glad relief. He knew that such a womb was something from which humanity must emerge, and be born. Why did he always sink back this way?
And would that always be? Would it really be that, though he might lead countless numbers out of the City and off the Earth and out to the stars, he would not, in the end, be able to go himself? Would he always feel at home only in the City?
He clenched his teeth - but there was no use thinking about it.
He said to the robot, "Were you brought to this point car, boy?"
"Yes, master."
"Where is it now?"
"I do not know, master."
Baley turned to the sentry. "Officer, this robot was brought to this spot two hours ago. What has happened to the car that brought him?"
"Sir, I went on duty less than an hour ago."
Actually, it was foolish to ask. Those in the car did not know how long it would take the robot to find him, so they would not wait. Baley had a brief impulse to call in, but they would tell him to take the Expressway; it would be quicker.
The only reason he hesitated was the presence of R. Geronimo. He didn't want its company on the Expressway and yet he could not expect the robot to make its way back to Headquarters through hostile crowds.
Not that he had a choice. Undoubtedly, the Commissioner was not eager to make this easy for him. He would be annoyed at not having had him on call, free time or not.
Baley said, "This way, boy."
The City covered over five thousand square kilometers and contained over four hundred kilometers of Expressway, plus hundreds of kilometers of Feederway, to serve its well over twenty million people. The intricate net of movement existed on, eight levels and there were hundreds, of interchanges of varying degrees of complexity.