so proud of its absolute solitude, so insistent upon it.
Pelorat, less apt to fall back on iron reasoning in the face of an obscure event, seized upon the solution at once, and said, "I suppose this is the successor."
"Bander's child," said Bliss, agreeing, "but too young, I think, to be a successor. The Solarians will have to find one elsewhere."
She was gazing at the child, not in a fixed glare, but in a soft, mesmerizing way, and slowly the noise the child was making lessened. It opened its eyes and looked at Bliss in return. Its outcry was reduced to an occasional soft whimper.
Bliss made sounds of her own, now, soothing ones, broken words that made little sense in themselves but were meant only to reinforce the calming effect of her thoughts. It was as though she were mentally fingering the child's unfamiliar mind and seeking to even out its disheveled emotions.
Slowly, never taking its eyes off Bliss, the child got to its feet, stood there swaying a moment, then made a dash for the silent, frozen robot. It threw its arms about the sturdy robotic leg as though avid for the security of its touch.
Trevize said, "I suppose that the robot is its-nursemaid-or caretaker. I suppose a Solarian can't care for another Solarian, not even a parent for a child."
Pelorat said, "And I suppose the child is hermaphroditic."
"It would have to be," said Trevize.
Bliss, still entirely preoccupied with the child, was approaching it slowly, hands held half upward, palms toward herself, as though emphasizing that there was no intention of seizing the small creature. The child was now silent, watching the approach, and holding on the more tightly to the robot.
She stopped and, without looking round, said in a low voice, "Pel, speak to it in its language. Tell it we're robots come to take care of it because the power failed."
"Robots!" said Pelorat, shocked.
"We must be presented as robots. It's not afraid of robots. And it's never seen a human being, maybe can't even conceive of them."
Pelorat said, "I don't know if I can think of the right expression. I don't know the archaic word for 'robot.' "
"Say 'robot,' then, Pel. If that doesn't work, say 'iron thing.' Say whatever you can."
Slowly, word by word, Pelorat spoke archaically. The child looked at him, frowning intensely, as though trying to understand.
Trevize said, "You might as well ask it how to get out, while you're at it."
Bliss said, "No. Not yet. Confidence first, then information."
The child, looking now at Pelorat, slowly released its hold on the robot and spoke in a high-pitched musical voice.
Pelorat said anxiously, "It's speaking too quickly for me."
Bliss said, "Ask it to repeat more slowly. I'm doing my best to calm it and remove its fears."
Pelorat, listening again to the child, said, "I think it's asking what made Jemby stop. Jemby must be the robot."
"Check and make sure, Pel."
Pelorat spoke, then listened, and said, "Yes, Jemby is the robot. The child calls itself Fallom."
"Good!" Bliss smiled at the child, a luminous, happy smile, pointed to it, and said, "Fallom. Good Fallom. Brave Fallom." She placed a hand on her chest and said, "Bliss."
The child smiled. It looked very attractive when it smiled. "Bliss," it said, hissing the "s" a bit imperfectly.
Trevize said, "Bliss, if you can activate the robot, Jemby, it might be able to tell us what we want to know. Pelorat can speak to it as easily as to the child."
"No," said Bliss. "That would be wrong. The robot's first duty is to protect the child. If it is activated and instantly becomes aware of us, aware of strange human beings, it may as instantly attack us. No strange human beings belong here. If I am then forced to inactivate it, it can give us no information, and the child, faced with a second inactivation of the only parent it knows-Well, I just won't do it."
"But we were told," said Pelorat mildly, "that robots can't harm human beings."
"So we were," said Bliss, "but we were not told what kind of robots these Solarians have designed. And even if this robot were designed to do no harm, it would have to make a choice between its child, or the nearest thing to a child it can have, and three objects whom it might not even recognize as human beings, merely as illegal intruders. Naturally, it would choose the child and attack us."