Chapter 10 Chapter Ten Unsuspected Suspects

The patrol car turned to one side and stopped in front of an indifferent concrete wall.The sound of the engine stopped abruptly, and there was a dead silence all around. Bailey looked at the robot beside him, "What did you say?" He broke the silence and whispered. As the seconds ticked by, Bailey waited for an answer. Suddenly there is a small and lonely vibration coming from far away, reaching a small peak, and then gradually disappearing.It was another patrol car passing near them, maybe on its way to a mission a kilometer away, maybe it was an ambulance, on its way to the fire.

A thought suddenly popped into Bailey's mind.He wondered if anyone else knew about all the winding lanes in New York.While the entire system of lanes is never empty, day or night, there must be certain individual lanes that have not been used for years.Suddenly, he clearly remembered a short story he had read as a child. The story is about the driveways of London and begins with a murder.The murderer was fleeing to a pre-arranged hideout somewhere around the corner of a driveway.The murderer runs in the driveway, treading dust that has not been disturbed for a hundred years.As long as he found that abandoned hole, he was 100 percent safe in hiding until the search operation was over.

But he turned in the wrong direction.In these desolate, tortuous passages of the dead he swore an oath of blasphemous madness, that he would find his refuge without the protection of God and all the saints.From this moment on, no matter how he turned, he always turned in the wrong direction.From Breton near the Channel to Norwich, from Coventry to Canterbury, he wandered in and out of the endless labyrinth of these districts.He worked tirelessly from one end to the other on the southeastern corner of medieval England below the Great City of London.His clothes were in pieces, his shoes were in shreds, and he was exhausted to the last ounce of strength.He was very, very tired, but he couldn't stop.He went on, on and on, with nothing in front of him but one wrong turn after another.

Occasionally, he heard cars passing by, but always in the next lane.No matter how fast he ran (he was happy to surrender by now), chasing him was always just another empty lane.Occasionally, he saw an exit in the distance ahead, a living and breathing exit leading to the city, but when he walked past it, it glowed faintly in a farther distance.He walked towards it again, but around a turn it disappeared again. When Londoners on official business drive through the underpass, they occasionally see a vague figure limping quietly towards them.It raised a translucent arm in a pleading gesture, opened its mouth and moved, but made no sound.When it gets close, it wobbles and disappears.

Today, the story has changed from an ordinary novel to a folklore. "Lost Londoners" has become an idiom familiar to people on Earth. Thinking of this story in the depths of New York City, Bailey couldn't help moving his body uneasily. R. Daniel finally spoke, and there was a soft echo in the driveway. "People could hear our conversation," he said. "Under here? Impossible. Now, what do you say about the chief?" "He was at the scene, Ilya. He was a city resident, not an outsider. He was unavoidably suspected at the time." "At that time? Is he still suspected now?"

"No. His innocence was quickly established. For example, he was not carrying a blaster. He couldn't have brought it in. He entered the space city through normal procedures. There is no doubt about it. You know, enter Space City must untie it." "So, have you found the murder weapon?" "No, Elijah. All the blasters in Space City have been checked, and none have been fired in the last few weeks. Our checks on the chambers are pretty solid." "In that case, unless the murderer hid the weapon well." "The murder weapon cannot be hidden anywhere in the space city, and we have thoroughly investigated it."

Bailey became impatient: "I'm considering all the possibilities. Either the murder weapon was hidden, or it was taken by the murderer when he left." "That's right." "If you only admit the second possibility, then the director is not suspected." "Yes. Of course, just in case, we did an EEG analysis on him." "what?" "Brain wave analysis. I mean the analysis and interpretation of the electromagnetic field of brain cells." "Oh." Bailey couldn't understand. "what's the result?" "It can show a person's temperament and emotional state. Our analysis of Commissioner Enderby shows that he will not kill Dr. Sutton, absolutely not."

"Yeah," Bayley agreed. "He's not that kind of guy. I could have told you earlier." "It is always better to have objective data. Of course, everyone in our space city is also willing to accept the brain wave analysis." "It turned out that no one was involved, right?" "There is no doubt about it. That's why we know the murderer must have been a city dweller." "Well, great, then we just need to ask the whole city to accept your cute little program." "That's impractical, Ilya. There are probably millions of people murderous in temperament."

"Millions..." Bailey muttered to himself, thinking of that day many years ago, when the crowd shouted and cursed "disgusting outsiders, dirty outsiders...".He also thought of the night before, outside the shoe store, when the crowd foamed and threatened to smash the robot. He thought: Poor Julier, he's a suspect! Zhuliel's voice sounded in Bailey's ears again, it was what he said when he narrated the discovery of the body: "It's cruel...cruel..." No wonder he broke his glasses in shock and fear.No wonder he didn't want to go to Space City again.

No wonder he gritted his teeth and said, "I hate them!" Poor Julier.The man who could handle outsiders was most valuable to New York City because he could get on well with outsiders.I wonder how much this contributed to his rapid promotion?No wonder he asked Bailey to lead the case.Loyal and tight-lipped good old Bailey, this old college friend!If Bailey had known about this trifle, he would have kept silent.Bailey didn't know how the brainwave analysis worked.There might be some powerful electrodes, he thought, busy telescoping plotters gliding across the charts to draw indicator lines, self-adjusting gears tick-tocking now and then.

Poor Julia.How lost must he be!If he really felt that way, he might have seen that his future was in jeopardy, and the mayor was going to force him to hand in his resignation. The patrol car drove forward and turned into the lower area of ​​the city hall. At fourteen thirty, Bailey was back behind his desk.The chief is out. R. Sammy said with a dull smile that he didn't know where the chief was. Bailey took a moment to think about the whole thing.He was actually hungry, but he didn't feel it. At twenty past ten, R. Sammy came up to him and said, "Now the Chief is back, Elijah." "Thank you," he replied. This time, Bailey was not annoyed at hearing R. Sammy speak.After all, R. Sammy was sort of a relative of R. Daniel, and he wasn't all that disgusted with R. Daniel.What would it be like for man and robot to join hands to create some kind of civilization, even the urban civilization he was familiar with, on a new planet?He imagined, in a very objective mood. Bailey walked into the director's office, and Julier was looking at some documents, stopping every now and then to make a mark. "That trick you did in Space City was scary," Julier said. The image flashed through Bailey's mind.He came and went with Fastov, exchanging words... His long face suddenly became longer. "I admit, Director, I'm sorry." The tone was very upset. Julier raised his head, his eyes behind the glasses were extremely stern.He was most like himself now in thirty hours. "It doesn't really matter," he said. "Fastoff doesn't seem to care, so we'll just forget about it. I don't know what these outsiders are thinking. You're lucky this time, Ilya, but that Just a fluke. Next time before you try to be a hero, tell me first." Bailey nodded.Now, this matter was finally off his shoulders.Well, it's like performing an amazing stunt, but it doesn't work.Why bother?He really didn't care at this moment, and even himself was a little surprised, but he really didn't care anymore. He said, "Boss, I'm applying for a two-person apartment for myself and Daniel. I'm not taking him home tonight." "what happened?" "Did you forget? Some people know he's a robot, and the word has spread. Maybe nothing will happen, but if there is a riot, I don't want my family to be involved." "Nonsense! I've checked the matter, Ilya, there is no such rumor in the city at all." "But Jessie heard it, Chief." "Well, it should be said that there are no large-scale rumors. There is no danger. I have been looking into this matter since I left the video message machine in the Fastov Dome. That is why I left. Of course, I must Need to track this down, and fast. Anyway, here's the investigative report, read it for yourself. It's Dorothy Gilly's report. You know Dorothy, she's very capable. She checked it out. Twelve private rooms in different parts of the city, and it turned out to be nothing. Nothing was found anywhere." "So, how did Jessie hear the rumors, Director?" "That's explainable. R. Daniel did a show in the shoe store. Did he really pull out the blaster, Elijah? Or did you exaggerate a little?" "He did pull it out and he aimed it at the crowd." Julier shook his head. "So, that's it, someone recognized him. I mean, someone recognized him as a robot." "Wait!" Bailey said angrily. "He can't tell it's a robot at all!" "Why can't you see it?" "Can you see it? I can't." "What does that prove? We're not experts. Suppose there happened to be a technician from the West Chester Robotics Factory in the crowd? An expert, someone who'd been designing and building robots all his life. He found R. Daniel a little odd. Maybe it was a strange way of speaking, maybe it was a strange way of acting. He suspected the oddity, and then speculated. Maybe he told his wife, and his wife told some friends. Then it was over. It is very likely. Yes. People didn't take the rumor seriously, and it died down when it reached Jessie's ears." "Maybe." Bailey was still skeptical. "Anyway, give me a bachelor double?" Julier shrugged and picked up the communicator.After a while, he said: "They can only allocate a room in the Q twenty-seventh area. It's not very peaceful in that area." "Okay," Bailey said. "By the way, where is R. Daniel?" "He's looking through our records. He wants to collect some information on mediaeval agitation." "My God! That's millions of people!" "I know, but it'll make him happy." Baley got up to leave, turning around suddenly as he approached the door.Impulsively, he said: "Director, has Dr. Shatton mentioned the space city plan to you? I mean, has he mentioned the plan to introduce C/Fe to you?" "what's the plan?" "Bring in the robots." "I mentioned it occasionally." Julier's tone was very ordinary. "Has he ever explained to you what the purpose of the space city is?" "Oh, improving health, improving living standards, that's always the talk, I'm not interested. Anyway, I just nodded and told him I agreed. What can I do? I can only cater to them and hope they don't Just too much. Maybe one day" Bailey waited for him to finish, but he didn't go on to say maybe one day. "Did he mention leaving Earth?" Baley asked next. "Immigrants? Never. It is as impossible for earthlings to emigrate to other worlds as to find a diamond asteroid in the rings of Saturn!" "I mean colonizing the new world." Julier glared at him, replacing the answer with a suspicious expression. Bailey carefully considered Julier's reaction, and suddenly asked rashly: "What is brain wave analysis, Director? Have you heard of it?" Julier's round face didn't wrinkle, his eyes didn't blink.He said very quietly; "No. What's that?" "Nothing. I just happened to hear the term." Bailey left the director's office and returned to his seat, still thinking, of course Julier wouldn't be such a good actor, um, let's put it this way... At 16:05, Bailey called Jessie and told her he wasn't going home for the night, and that he might not be coming home to sleep a lot these days.It took him a moment to explain to Jessie before he was able to wrap up the conversation. "Ilya, is something wrong? Are you in danger?" He explained to her in a casual tone that the police are always dangerous in some way.But she was still worried. "Where do you sleep?" she asked. He didn't tell her. "If you feel lonely at night, you can sleep with your mother." He cut off the call immediately after speaking to save trouble. At sixteen twenty, he contacted Washington and waited a long time to find the man he was looking for.Then, it took him almost as long to convince the other party to agree to fly to New York the next day.At sixteen forty, he ended the call. At 16:55, the chief left, walking past him with a hesitant smile.People on the day shift left the big office.There were not many people on the night shift and the big night shift. They came in one after another, and when they saw Bale, they greeted him with different voices of surprise. R. Daniel came to his desk with a bundle of papers. "What are these?" asked Bailey. "A list. A list of men and women who might belong to a medievalist organization." "How many people are on the list?" "More than a million." R. Daniel said: "This is part of it." "Do you want to investigate them one by one?" "That's obviously not practical, Ilya." "You know, Daniel, almost all the people on Earth are more or less medievalists. Including the Director, Jessie, and me. You see the Director" (He stops in time, almost saying "glasses" Two words. He immediately thought that people on Earth must be united, whether it is appearance or substance, Zhulier’s face must be protected.) He turned a corner very unwisely: "Eye jewelry." "Yes," said R. Daniel, "I've noticed that, and I thought it shouldn't be talked about, because it might be rude. I don't see any other city folks wearing it." "It's a very old fashioned thing." "Does it do anything?" Bailey changed the subject suddenly; "how did you get these lists?" "A machine did it for me. Obviously, you just set it up for a certain type of crime and it does the rest. I've let it work for the last twenty-five years All the riots of the robots. Another machine scoured the city newspapers for the last twenty-five years to find the names of people who spoke out against the robots or the outside world. It was an astonishing job done in three hours. The machine Even people who have died are removed from the list." "Are you surprised? There should be computers in your outer world, right?" "Of course, and there are many types, very advanced computers. However, none of them are as large and complex as the ones here. I think you must remember that even the largest outer world has a population less than that of a city of yours Much. Too much intricacies are unnecessary." "Have you been to Aurora World?" Bailey asked. "No." R. Daniel said, "I assembled it on Earth." "So how do you know about computers in the outside world?" "The reason is obvious, partner Ilya. The materials I have accumulated are from Dr. Shatton, and it is only natural that these materials contain a large number of things from the outer world." "I see. Can you eat, Daniel?" "I use nuclear power. I think you should know." "Of course I know," said Bailey; "I'm not asking if you need to eat, I'm asking if you can eat, if you can put food in your mouth, and crush it, and swallow it. I think, It’s important to be like a human being.” "I see what you mean. I can chew and swallow. Of course, my capacity is very limited, and sooner or later I have to get food out of what you might call my stomach." come out." "Okay. You can quietly ruminate in our room tonight or something. I mean, I'm hungry. Damn! I missed lunch. I want you to stay with me while I eat. You can't Sitting there without eating will attract attention, that's why I'm asking you. Alright, let's go!" Regional restaurants in the city are all alike.Not only that, but Bailey has traveled to Washington, Toronto, Los Angeles, London, and Budapest, as have the restaurants there.Perhaps, in the Middle Ages with different languages ​​in different places, diets were also different.Yet today, from Shanghai to Tashkent, from Winnipeg to Buenos Doulis, all yeast foods look alike.Today's "English" may no longer be the "English" of Shakespeare's or Churchill's time, but it has, after several revisions, become the last mixed language spoken on all continents and in the outer world. In addition to language and food, there is another very similarity between different places, and that is "restaurant".In the restaurant, you can always smell that indescribable unique smell.The waiting team always gathers at the door and enters slowly. After entering the door, it is divided into three lines: left, middle and right.There are also sounds: voices, footsteps, and the crunch of plastic.Bright imitation wood products, crystal glass, long tables, and the steam of owls permeates the air. Bailey moved slowly in the line. (In order to evacuate the crowd, the meal time is divided into several echelons, but no matter how divided, it is almost unavoidable that people have to wait in line for at least ten minutes before eating.) Suddenly, Bailey asked R. Daniel curiously: " Can you laugh?" R. Daniel was looking at the interior of the restaurant indifferently and intently, "What are you talking about, Elijah?" "I was just wondering if you could laugh," he said casually in a low voice. R. Daniel laughed.This smile is so sudden, it is surprising.His lips were pulled out, and the skin at the corners of his mouth puckered.Only the mouth of the robot is smiling, the rest of the face remains unchanged. Bailey shook his head. "Forget it, Daniel, save yourself, it won't help you at all." They go to the entrance.People flocked to insert their metal meal cards into the appropriate openings to be scanned. Crack, clack, clack... Someone once counted that a well-managed restaurant can allow 200 people to enter every minute to complete the process of scanning meal cards.In order to prevent people from changing meal orders without permission and excessive consumption of ration rations, everyone's food card must be thoroughly scanned and checked.They also calculated how long waiting lines would have to be for maximum efficiency and how much time would be wasted every time anyone asked for special treatment. Therefore, when Bailey and Ji and Daniel went to the manual service window and handed over the license to the restaurant supervisor to ask for special service, when they interrupted the smooth "clack clack" sound, it always seemed to trigger a war. Like a catastrophe. Jessie, who has experience as an assistant nutritionist, once explained the situation to Bailey. "It messes up all the operating procedures," she said. "It messes up the consumption and inventory estimates. That means ad-hoc reconciliation. You have to match the bills you receive with the bills from the restaurants in the area, In case the balance is too crazy, get it? Every restaurant has to file a separate balance sheet every week. If something goes wrong, you're overdrawn, it's your fault. The city is never wrong anyway, they send out special meals It's never wrong to give coupons to someone, or to family or friends. Well, to make amends, when we have to announce that free elections are temporarily suspended, it's no surprise that people in the queue don't make a lot of noise. Anyway, whether it is What's wrong, it's all the fault of the staff behind the counter in the restaurant..." Bailey was well aware of the matter, so he forgave it when the woman behind the window gave him a cold, vicious look.The woman jotted down some information.Residential address, occupation, reasons for changing districts for meals, etc. (Official reasons are irritating, but absolutely irrefutable.) Then, she shoved the list firmly into a hole with her fingers.The computer grabs the list, swallows it, and digests the data. She turned to R. Daniel. Bailey let her take the hardest hit."My friends are from out of town," he said. The woman was really furious: "Which city?" Bailey intervened again to answer for Daniel: "All meal records are recorded in the account of the police station. There is no need to explain the reason, it is necessary for official duties." The woman suddenly reached out to take down a receipt, pressed the dark light code on the receipt with her right thumb and index finger, and filled in the necessary information. "How long are you going to eat here?" she asked. "Until further notice," said Bailey. "Press your finger here." She turned the slip upside down. When R. Daniel stretched out his neat fingers with shiny nails and pressed down, Bailey couldn't help feeling a little uneasy.Surely they wouldn't forget to fingerprint him? The woman took the slip back and put it in the machine at her elbow.As soon as the machine swallowed it, it didn't spit out the receipt again, and Bailey heaved a sigh of relief. She gave each of them a small bright red metal meal card for "temporary use." "No free choice," she said. "We don't have enough food for the week. Sit at table DF." They walked toward table DF. R. Daniel said: "I have an impression that most of you often eat in this kind of restaurant." "Yes, of course. But it's a nuisance to eat in a restaurant you don't know, and you don't know anyone around you. It's different in your own regional restaurant. You have your own seat, You can dine with family and friends. Especially when you are young, eating time is the happiest time of the day." Bailey couldn't help smiling when he recalled the past. The tables near the DF table are obviously reserved for people who are temporarily eating there.Those who were already seated looked at their plates uncomfortably and did not talk to each other.They secretly looked at the people at other tables who talked and laughed freely, with a look of envy. Eating in an out-of-town restaurant was the most uncomfortable thing, Bailey thought.There is an old saying that goes well, delicacies from mountains and seas are not as fragrant as the roots of vegetables at home.No matter how many chemists swear by you that the food in your regional restaurant is exactly the same as in Johannesburg, you still think your restaurant has better food. He sat down at the table, and R. Daniel followed him. "You can't choose meals freely." Bailey shook his finger, "So, just turn off that switch and wait." They waited for two minutes.A saucer-shaped cover on the table slid open, and a plate of food rose up. "Mashed potatoes, artificial beef gravy, stewed apricots. Oh!" Bailey sighed. A fork and two slices of whole sourdough bread appeared in the groove in front of the central rail of the table. R. Daniel said in a low voice, "You can eat me if you like." Bailey's first reaction was outrage, and then he remembered. "It's impolite. Eat it!" he murmured. Bailey ate generously, but was too nervous to enjoy the meal to its fullest.He glanced cautiously at R. Daniel from time to time.The robot eats with extremely precise movements.So precise.It doesn't look natural. How strange.Now Bailey knew that R. Daniel was, in fact, a real robot, and it was clear from every little place.For example, when Daniel is swallowing, you can't see his Adam's apple moving. Yet he didn't care too much.Is he used to this thing?If one were to start over in a new world (and Dr. Fastoff had been thinking about it ever since he had put the idea in his head), for example, assuming that Bentley were to leave Earth, would he also Do you care about working and living with robots?why not?That's what outsiders are like. R. Daniel asked him suddenly: "Ilya, is it impolite to pay attention to others while eating alone?" "If you mean staring at someone, that's certainly not polite. It's common sense, isn't it? People have a right to privacy. It's fine in general conversation though, you just can't peek when someone's swallowing." he." "I see. But why do I count a total of eight people looking at us? And very attentively?" Bailey put down his fork and looked around as if looking for a salt dispenser. "I don't see anything abnormal." However, even he himself doubted this sentence.In his eyes, the crowd eating is just a bunch of chaotic groups of people.But in the eyes of R · Daniel?When he looked at Bale with his cold, expressionless eyes, Bale couldn't help but wonder.He thought uneasily, R. Daniel's eyes are not eyes, but a scanner that can accurately record the panorama in an instant like a camera. "I'm quite sure," R. Daniel said quietly. "Okay. But so what? It's rude, but what does it prove?" "I can't answer you, Elijah. But isn't it just a coincidence that six of these eight were outside the shoe store last night?"