then declined. "Yet I seem to detect disturbance. May I ask that you be frank with me? It is best to have as many relevant facts as possible in a relationship such as ours. And it is customary on my world for partners to call one another by the familiar name. I trust that that is not counter to your own customs."
"It's just, you see, that you don't look like a robot," said Baley, desperately.
"And that disturbs you?"
"It shouldn't, I suppose, Da - Daneel. Are they all like you on your world?"
"There are individual differences, Elijah, as with men."
"Our own robots... Well, you can tell they're robots, you understand. You look like a Spacer."
"Oh, I see. You expected a rather crude model and were surprised. Yet it is only logical that our people use a robot of pronounced humanoid characteristics in this case if we expected to avoid unpleasantness. Is that not so?"
It was certainly so. An obvious robot roaming the City would be in quick trouble.
Baley said, "Yes."
"Then let us leave now, Elijah."
They made their way back to the expressway. R. Daneel caught the purpose of the accelerating strips and maneuvered along them with a quick proficiency. Baley, who had begun by moderating his speed, ended by hastening it in annoyance.
The robot kept pace. He showed no awareness of any difficulty. Baley wondered if R. Daneel were not deliberately moving slower than he might. He reached the endless cars of expressway and scrambled aboard with what amounted to outright recklessness. The robot followed easily.
Baley was red. He swallowed twice and said, "I'll stay down here with you."
"Down here?" The robot, apparently oblivious to both the noise and the rhythmic swaying of the platform said, "Is my information wrong? I was told that a rating of C-5 entitled one to a seat on the upper level under certain conditions."
"You're right. I can go up there, but you can't."
"Why can I not go up with you?"
"It takes a C-5, Daneel."
"I am aware of that."
"You're not a C-5." Talking was difficult. The hiss of frictioning air was louder on the less shielded lower level and Baley was understandably anxious to keep his voice low.
R. Daneel said, "Why should I not be a C-5? I am your partner and, consequently, of equal rank. I was given this."
From an inner shirt pocket he produced a rectangular credential card, quite genuine. The name given was Daneel Olivaw, without the all-important initial. The rating was C-5.
"Come on up," said Baley, woodenly.
Baley looked straight ahead, once seated, angry with himself, very conscious of the robot sitting next to him. He had been caught twice. First he had not recognized R. Daneel as a robot; secondly, he had not guessed the logic that demanded R. Daneel be given C-5 rating.
The trouble was, of course, that he was not the plain-clothes man of popular myth. He was not incapable of surprise, imperturbable of appearance, infinite of adaptability, and lightning of mental grasp. He had never supposed he was, but he had never regretted the lack before.
What made him regret it was that, to all appearances, R. Daneel Olivaw was that very myth, embodied.
He had to be. He was a robot.
Baley began to find excuses for himself. He was accustomed to the robots like R. Sammy at the office. He had expected a creature with a skin of a hard and glossy plastic, nearly dead white in color. He had expected an expression fixed at an unreal level of inane good humor. He had expected jerky, faintly uncertain motions.
R. Daneel was none of it.
Baley risked a quick side glance at the robot. R. Daneel turned simultaneously to meet his eye and nod gravely. His lips had moved naturally when he had spoken and did not simply remain parted as those of Earth robots did. There had been glimpses of an articulating tongue.
Baley thought: Why does he have to sit there so calmly? This must be something completely new to him. Noise, lights, crowds!
Baley got up, brushed past R. Daneel, and said, "Follow me!"
Off the expressway, down the decelerating strips.
Baley thought: Good Lord, what do I tell Jessie, anyway?
The coming of the robot had rattled that thought out of his head, but it was coming back with sickening urgency now that they were heading down the localway that led into the very jaws of the Lower Bronx Section.
He said, "This is all one building, you know, Daneel; everything you see, the whole City. Twenty million people live in it. The expressways