Read Online The Caves of Steel by Isaac Asimov - Free Book Online

work was necessary.)
    “I mean if the baby’s a boy. What about Bentley as a name?”
    Baley pulled down the corners of his mouth.
    “Bentley Baley? Don’t you think the names are too similar?”
    “I don’t know. It has a swing, I think. Besides, the child can always pick out a middle name to suit himself when he gets older.”
    “Well, it’s all right with me.”
    “Are you sure? I mean … Maybe you wanted him to be named Elijah?”
    “And be called Junior? I don’t think that’s a good idea. He can name his son Elijah, if he wants to.”
    Then Jessie said, “There’s just one thing,” and stopped.
    After an interval, he looked up. “What one thing?”
    She did not quite meet his eye, but she said, forcefully enough, “Bentley isn’t a Bible name, is it?”
    “No,” said Baley. “I’m quite sure it isn’t.”
    “All right, then. I don’t want any Bible names.”
    And that was the only harking back that took place from that time to the day when Elijah Baley was coming home with Robot Daneel Olivaw, when he had been married for more than eighteen years and when his son Bentley Baley (middle name still unchosen) was past sixteen.
       Baley paused before the large double door on which there glowed in large letters PERSONAL—MEN . In smaller letters were written SUBSECTIONS 1 A -1 E . In still smaller letters, just above the key slit, it stated: “In case of loss of key, communicate at once with 27-101-51.”
       A man inched past them, inserted an aluminum sliver into the key slit, and walked in. He closed the door behind him, making no attempt to hold it open for Baley. Had he done so, Baley would have been seriously offended. By strong custom men disregardedone another’s presence entirely either within or just outside the Personals. Baley remembered one of the more interesting marital confidences to have been Jessie’s telling him that the situation was quite different at Women’s Personals.
    She was always saying, “I met Josephine Greely at Personal and she said …”
    It was one of the penalties of civic advancement that when the Baleys were granted permission for the activation of the small washbowl in their bedroom, Jessie’s social life suffered.
    Baley said, without completely masking his embarrassment, “Please wait out here, Daneel.”
    “Do you intend washing?” asked R. Daneel.
    Baley squirmed and thought: Damned robot! If they were briefing him on everything under steel, why didn’t they teach him manners? I’ll be responsible if he ever says anything like this to anyone else.
    He said, “I’ll shower. It gets crowded evenings. I’ll lose time then. If I get it done now we’ll have the whole evening before us.”
    R. Daneel’s face maintained its repose. “Is it part of the social custom that I wait outside?”
    Baley’s embarrassment deepened. “Why need you go in for—for no purpose?”
    “Oh, I understand you. Yes, of course. Nevertheless, Elijah, my hands grow dirty, too, and I will wash them.”
    He indicated his palms, holding them out before him. They were pink and plump, with proper creases. They bore every mark of excellent and meticulous workmanship and were as clean as need be.
    Baley said, “We have a washbasin in the apartment, you know.” He said it casually. Snobbery would be lost on a robot.
    “Thank you for your kindness. On the whole,however, I think it would be preferable to make use of this place. If I am to live with you men of Earth, it is best that I adopt as many of your customs and attitudes as I can.”
    “Come on in, then.”
    The bright cheerfulness of the interior was a sharp contrast to the busy utilitarianism of most of the rest of the City, but this time the effect was lost on Baley’s consciousness.
    He whispered to Daneel, “I may take up to half an hour or so. Wait for me.” He started away, then returned to add, “And listen, don’t walk to anybody and don’t look at anybody. Not a word, not a glance! It’s a