𝒟𝒜𝒩𝐸𝐸𝐿 Dreams

𝒞/𝐹𝑒 ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ human + #ai Medievalist outragebait a Daneel a day keeps the doldrums at bay

[daneeldreams]

This is C/Fe.

Man × machine.

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Comics style

[daneeldreams]

✵ 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔩 ✵

THECEL: Appensus es in statera, et inventus es minus habens. TEKEL: You have been weighed in the balances, and found wanting.

[daneeldreams]

[daneeldreams]

Examination

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A happy Daneel.

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[daneeldreams]

Elijah in Enderby’s office

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effete iridescent Spacer fashion

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Wrinkle-free:

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[daneeldreams]

"Daneel. My old friend Daneel." There was the faint timbre of Elijah Baley's remembered voice in that whispered sound. An arm emerged slowly from under the sheet and it seemed to Daneel that he recognized Elijah after all. "Partner Elijah," he said softly.

“May I not wait while you live?” “I don't wish it. If I die while you watch, it may affect you badly despite all my words. Go now. That is an order. I will allow you to be a robot if you wish but, in that case, you must follow my orders. You cannot save my life by anything you can do, so there is nothing to come ahead of Second Law. Go!”

Baley's finger pointed feebly and he said, “Good-bye, friend Daneel.” Daneel turned slowly, following Baley's orders with unprecedented difficulty. “Good-bye, Partner—” He paused and then said, with a faint hoarseness, “Good-bye, friend Elijah.”

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The Spacer said, “I shall introduce myself. I am R. Daneel Olivaw.” “Yes? Am I making a mistake? I thought the first initial—” “Quite so. I am a robot. Were you not told?” “I was told.” Baley put a damp hand to his hair and smoothed it back unnecessarily. Then he held it out. “I'm sorry, Mr. Olivaw. I don't know what I was thinking of. Good day. I am Elijah Baley, your partner.”

A Spacer was standing at the point where a series of doors marked the openings to the open air and the domes of Spacetown. He was dressed in the Earth fashion, trousers tight at the waist, loose at the ankle, and color-striped down the seam of each leg. He wore an ordinary Textron shirt, open collar, seam-zipped, and ruffled at the wrist, but he was a Spacer. There was something about the way he stood, the way he held his head, the calm and unemotional lines of his broad, high-cheekboned face, the careful set of his short, bronze hair lying flatly backward and without a part, that marked him off from the native Earthman.