"I'm sorry, D.G., but this is not very impressive. These are small and uninteresting buildings."
D.G. smiled. "You see only an occasional top, my lady. The buildings themselves are located underground - all interconnected. It's a single complex, really, and is still growing. It's a self-contained city, you know. It, along with the surrounding residential areas, makes up Baleytown."
"Do you plan to have everything underground eventually? The whole city? The whole world?"
"Most of us look forward to an underground world, yes."
"They have underground Cities on Earth, I understand."
"Indeed they do, my lady. The so-called Caves of Steel."
"You imitate that here, then?"
"It's not simple imitation. We add our own ideas and we're coming to a halt, my lady, and any moment we'll be asked to step out. I'd cling to the coverall openings if I were you. The whistling wind on the Plaza in winter is legendary."
Gladia did so, fumbling rather as she tried to put the edges of the openings together. "It's not simple imitation, you say."
"No. We design our underground with the weather in mind. Since our weather is, on the whole, harsher than Earth's, some modification in architecture is required. Properly built, almost no energy is required to keep the complex warm in winter and cool in summer. In a way, indeed, we keep warm in winter, in part, with the stored warmth of the previous summer and cool in summer with the coolness of the previous winter."
"What about ventilation?"
"That uses up some of the savings, but not all. It works, my lady, and someday we will match Earth's structures. That, of course, is the ultimate ambition - to make Baleyworld a reflection of Earth."
"I never knew that Earth was so admirable as to make imitation desirable," said Gladia lightly.
D.G. turned his eyes on her sharply. "Make no jokes of that sort, my lady, while you are with Settlers - not even with me. Earth is no joking matter."
Gladia said, "I'm sorry, D.G. I meant no disrespect."
"You didn't know. But now you know. Come, let's get out."
The side door of the car slid open noiselessly and D.G. turned in his seat and stepped out. He then held out one hand to help Gladia and said, "You'll be addressing the Planetary Congress, you know, and every government official who can squeeze in will do so."
Gladia, who had stretched out her hand to seize D.G.'s and who already felt - painfully - the cold wind on her face, shrank back suddenly. "I must make an address? I hadn't been told that."
D.G. looked surprised. "I rather thought you would take something of the sort for granted."
"Well, I didn't. And I can't make an address. I've never done such a thing."
"You must. It's nothing terrible. It's just a matter of saying a few words after some long and boring speeches of welcome."
"But what can I possibly say?"
"Nothing fancy, I assure you. Just peace and love and blah - Give them half a minute's worth. I'll scrawl out something for you if you wish."
And Gladia stepped out of the car and her robots followed her. Her mind was in a whirl.
9. THE SPEECH
38
As they walked into the building, they removed their coveralls and handed them to attendants. Daneel and Giskard removed theirs, too, and the attendants cast sharp glances at the latter, approaching him gingerly.
Gladia adjusted her nose plugs nervously. She had never before been in the presence of large crowds of short-lived human beings - short-lived in part, she knew (or had always been told), because they carried in their bodies chronic infections and hordes of parasites.
She whispered, "Will I get back my own coverall?"
"You will wear no one else's," said D.G. "They will be kept safe and radiation-sterilized."
Gladia looked about cautiously. Somehow she felt that even optical contact might be dangerous.
"Who are those people?" She indicated several people who wore brightly colored clothing and were obviously armed.
"Security guards, madam," said D.G.
"Even here? In a government building?"
"Absolutely. And when we're on the platform, there will be a force-field curtain dividing us from the audience."
"Don't you trust your own legislature?"
D.G. half-smiled. "Not entirely. This is a raw world still and we go our own ways. We haven't had all the edges knocked off and we don't have robots watching over us. Then, too, we've got militant minority parties; we've got our war hawks."
"What are war hawks?"
Most of the Baleyworlders had their coveralls removed now and were helping themselves to drinks. There was a buzz of conversation in the air and many people stared at Gladia, but no one came over to speak to her. Indeed, it was clear to Gladia that there was a circle of avoidance about her.
D.G. noticed her glance from side to side and interpreted it correctly. "They've been told," he said, "that you would appreciate a little elbow room. I think they understand your fear of infection."
"They don't find it insulting, I hope."
"They may, but you've got something that is clearly a robot with you and most Baleyworlders don't want that kind of infection. The war hawks, particularly."
"You haven't told me what they are."
"I will if there's time. You and I and others on the platform will have to move in a little while. - Most Settlers think that, in time, the Galaxy will be theirs, that the Spacers cannot and will not compete successfully in the race for expansion. We also know it will take time. We won't see it. Our children probably won't. It may take a thousand years, for all we know. The war hawks don't want to wait. They want it settled now."