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Authors: Isaac Asimov
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custom.”
He looked hurriedly about to make certain that his own small conversation had not been noted, was not being met by shocked glances. Nobody, fortunately, was in the antecorridor, and after all it
was
only the antecorridor.
He hurried down it, feeling vaguely dirty, past the common chambers to the private stalls. It had been five years now since he had been awarded one—large enough to contain a shower, a small laundry, and other necessities. It even had a small projector that could be keyed in for the new films.
“A home away from home,” he had joked when it was first made available to him. But now, he often wondered how he would bear the adjustment back to the more Spartan existence of the common chambers if his stall privileges were ever canceled.
He pressed the button that activated the laundry and the smooth face of the meter lighted.
R. Daneel was waiting patiently when Baley returned with a scrubbed body, clean underwear, a freshened shirt, and, generally, a feeling of greater comfort.
“No trouble?” Baley asked, when they were well outside the door and able to talk.
“None at all, Elijah,” said R. Daneel.
Jessie was at the door, smiling nervously. Baley kissed her.
“Jessie,” he mumbled, “this is my new partner, Daneel Olivaw.”
Jessie held out a hand, which R. Daneel took and released. She turned to her husband, then looked timidly at R. Daneel.
She said, “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Olivaw? I must talk to my husband on family matters. It’ll take just a minute. I hope you won’t mind.”
Her hand was on Baley’s sleeve. He followed her into the next room.
She said, in a hurried whisper, “You aren’t hurt, are you? I’ve been so worried ever since the broadcast.”
“What broadcast?”
“It came through nearly an hour ago. About the riot at the shoe counter. They said two plain-clothes men stopped it. I knew you were coming home with a partner and this was right in our subsection and right when you were coming home and I thought they were making it better than it was and you were—”
“Please
, Jessie. You see I’m perfectly all right.”
Jessie caught hold of herself with an effort. She said, shakily, “Your partner isn’t from your division, is he?”
“No,” replied Baley miserably. “He’s—a complete stranger.”
“How do I treat him?”
“Like anybody else. He’s just my partner, that’s all.”
He said it so unconvincingly, that Jessie’s quick eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Come, let’s go back into the living room. It’ll begin to look queer.”
Lije Baley felt a little uncertain about the apartment now. Until this very moment, he had felt no qualms. In fact, he had always been proud of it. It had three large rooms; the living room, for instance, was an ample fifteen by eighteen. There was a closet in each room. One of the main ventilation ducts passed directly by. It meant a little rumbling noise on rare occasions, but, on the other hand, assured first-rate temperature control and well-conditioned air. Nor was it too far from either Personal, which was a prime convenience.
But with the creature from worlds beyond space sitting in the midst of it, Baley was suddenly uncertain. The apartment seemed mean and cramped.
Jessie said, with a gaiety that was slightly synthetic, “Have you and Mr. Olivaw eaten, Lije?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Baley, quickly, “Daneel will not be eating with us. I’ll eat, though.”
Jessie accepted the situation without trouble. With food supplies so narrowly controlled and rationing tighter than ever, it was good form to refuse another’s hospitality.
She said, “I hope you won’t mind our eating, Mr. Olivaw. Lije, Bentley, and I generally eat at the Community kitchen. It’s much more convenient and there’s more variety, you see, and just between you and me, bigger helpings, too. But then, Lije and I
do
have permission to eat in our apartment three times a week if
He looked hurriedly about to make certain that his own small conversation had not been noted, was not being met by shocked glances. Nobody, fortunately, was in the antecorridor, and after all it
was
only the antecorridor.
He hurried down it, feeling vaguely dirty, past the common chambers to the private stalls. It had been five years now since he had been awarded one—large enough to contain a shower, a small laundry, and other necessities. It even had a small projector that could be keyed in for the new films.
“A home away from home,” he had joked when it was first made available to him. But now, he often wondered how he would bear the adjustment back to the more Spartan existence of the common chambers if his stall privileges were ever canceled.
He pressed the button that activated the laundry and the smooth face of the meter lighted.
R. Daneel was waiting patiently when Baley returned with a scrubbed body, clean underwear, a freshened shirt, and, generally, a feeling of greater comfort.
“No trouble?” Baley asked, when they were well outside the door and able to talk.
“None at all, Elijah,” said R. Daneel.
Jessie was at the door, smiling nervously. Baley kissed her.
“Jessie,” he mumbled, “this is my new partner, Daneel Olivaw.”
Jessie held out a hand, which R. Daneel took and released. She turned to her husband, then looked timidly at R. Daneel.
She said, “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Olivaw? I must talk to my husband on family matters. It’ll take just a minute. I hope you won’t mind.”
Her hand was on Baley’s sleeve. He followed her into the next room.
She said, in a hurried whisper, “You aren’t hurt, are you? I’ve been so worried ever since the broadcast.”
“What broadcast?”
“It came through nearly an hour ago. About the riot at the shoe counter. They said two plain-clothes men stopped it. I knew you were coming home with a partner and this was right in our subsection and right when you were coming home and I thought they were making it better than it was and you were—”
“Please
, Jessie. You see I’m perfectly all right.”
Jessie caught hold of herself with an effort. She said, shakily, “Your partner isn’t from your division, is he?”
“No,” replied Baley miserably. “He’s—a complete stranger.”
“How do I treat him?”
“Like anybody else. He’s just my partner, that’s all.”
He said it so unconvincingly, that Jessie’s quick eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Come, let’s go back into the living room. It’ll begin to look queer.”
Lije Baley felt a little uncertain about the apartment now. Until this very moment, he had felt no qualms. In fact, he had always been proud of it. It had three large rooms; the living room, for instance, was an ample fifteen by eighteen. There was a closet in each room. One of the main ventilation ducts passed directly by. It meant a little rumbling noise on rare occasions, but, on the other hand, assured first-rate temperature control and well-conditioned air. Nor was it too far from either Personal, which was a prime convenience.
But with the creature from worlds beyond space sitting in the midst of it, Baley was suddenly uncertain. The apartment seemed mean and cramped.
Jessie said, with a gaiety that was slightly synthetic, “Have you and Mr. Olivaw eaten, Lije?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Baley, quickly, “Daneel will not be eating with us. I’ll eat, though.”
Jessie accepted the situation without trouble. With food supplies so narrowly controlled and rationing tighter than ever, it was good form to refuse another’s hospitality.
She said, “I hope you won’t mind our eating, Mr. Olivaw. Lije, Bentley, and I generally eat at the Community kitchen. It’s much more convenient and there’s more variety, you see, and just between you and me, bigger helpings, too. But then, Lije and I
do
have permission to eat in our apartment three times a week if
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