“Of course you can. I am a total illiterate in mathematics.”
“And I in history—and we need both.”
Dors laughed. “I suspect that, as a mathematician, you are one of a kind. I, as a historian, am merely adequate, certainly not outstanding. You will find any number of historians who will suit the needs of psychohistory better than I do.”
“In that case, Dors, let me explain that psychohistory needs more than a mathematician and a historian. It also needs the will to tackle what will probably be a lifetime problem. Without you, Dors, I will not have that will.”
“Of course you’ll have it.”
“Dors, if you’re not with me, I don’t intend to have it.”
Dors looked at Seldon thoughtfully. “This is a fruitless discussion, Hari. Undoubtedly, Hummin will make the decision. If he sends me back to the University—”
“He won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’ll put it to him plainly. If he sends you back to the University, I’ll go back to Helicon and the Empire can go ahead and destroy itself.”
“You can’t mean it.”
“But I certainly do.”
“Don’t you realize that Hummin can arrange to have your feelings change so that you will work on psychohistory—even without me?”
Seldon shook his head. “Hummin will not make such an arbitrary decision. I’ve spoken to him. He dares not do much to the human mind because he is bound by what he calls the Laws of Robotics. To change my mind to the point where I will not want you with me, Dors, would mean a change of the kind he cannot risk. On the other hand, if he leaves me alone and if you join me in the project, he will have what he wants—a true chance at psychohistory. Why should he not settle for that?”
Dors shook her head. “He may not agree for reasons of his own.”
“Why should he disagree? You were asked to protect me, Dors. Has Hummin canceled that request?”
“No.”
“Then he wants you to continue your protection. And I want your protection.”
“Against what? You now have Hummin’s protection, both as Demerzel and as Daneel, and surely that is all you need.”
“If I had the protection of every person and every force in the Galaxy, it would still be yours I would want.”
“Then you don’t want me for psychohistory. You want me for protection.”
Seldon scowled. “No! Why are you twisting my words? Why are you forcing me to say what you must know? It is neither psychohistory nor protection I want you for. Those are excuses and I’ll use any other I need. I want you—just you. And if you want the real reason, it is because you are you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t care. —And yet I do know you in a way. Better than you think.”
“Do you indeed?”
“Of course. You follow orders and you risk your life for me without hesitation and with no apparent care for the consequences. You learned how to play tennis so quickly. You learned how to use knives even more quickly and you handled yourself perfectly in the fight with Marron. Inhumanly—if I may say so. Your muscles are amazingly strong and your reaction time is amazingly fast. You can somehow tell when a room is being eavesdropped and you can be in touch with Hummin in some way that does not involve instrumentation.”
Dors said, “And what do you think of all that?”
“It has occurred to me that Hummin, in his persona as R. Daneel Olivaw, has an impossible task. How can one robot try to guide the Empire? He must have helpers.”
“That is obvious. Millions, I should imagine. I am a helper. You are a helper. Little Raych is a helper.”
“You are a different kind of helper.”
“In what way? Hari, say it. If you hear yourself say it, you will realize how crazy it is.”
Seldon looked long at her and then said in a low voice, “I will not say it because . . . I don’t care.”
“You really don’t? You wish to take me as I am?”
“I will take you as I must. You are Dors and, whatever else you are, in all the world I want nothing else.”
Dors said softly, “Hari, I want what is good for you because of what I am, but I feel that if I wasn’t what I am, I would still want what is good for you. And I don’t think I am good for you.”
“Good for me or bad, I don’t care.” Here Hari looked down as he paced a few steps, weighing what he would say next. “Dors, have you ever been kissed?”
“Of course, Hari. It’s a social part of life and I live socially.”
“No no! I mean, have you ever really kissed a man? You know, passionately?”
“Well yes, Hari, I have.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
Dors hesitated. She said, “When I’ve kissed in that way, I enjoyed it more than I would have enjoyed disappointing a young man I liked, someone whose friendship meant something to me.” At this point, Dors blushed and she turned her face away. “Please, Hari, this is difficult for me to explain.”
But Hari, more determined now than ever, pressed further. “So you kissed for the wrong reasons, then, to avoid hurt feelings.”
“Perhaps everyone does, in a sense.”
Seldon mulled this over, then said suddenly, “Did you ever ask to be kissed?”
Dors paused, as though looking back on her life. “No.”
“Or wish to be kissed again, once you had?”
“No.”
“Have you ever slept with a man?” he asked softly, desperately.
“Of course. I told you. These things are a part of life.”
Hari gripped her shoulders as if he was going to shake her. “But have you ever felt the desire, a need for that kind of closeness with just one special person? Dors, have you ever felt love?”
Dors looked up slowly, almost sadly, and locked eyes with Seldon. “I’m sorry, Hari, but no.”
Seldon released her, letting his arms fall dejectedly to his sides.
Then Dors placed her hand gently on his arm and said, “So you see, Hari. I’m not really what you want.”
Seldon’s head drooped and he stared at the floor. He weighed the matter and tried to think rationally. Then he gave up. He wanted what he wanted and he wanted it beyond thought and beyond rationality.
He looked up. “Dors, dear, even so, I don’t care.”
Seldon put his arms around her and brought his head close to hers slowly, as though waiting for her to pull away, all the while drawing her nearer.
Dors made no move and he kissed her—slowly, lingeringly, and then passionately—and her arms suddenly tightened around him.
When he stopped at last, she looked at him with eyes that mirrored her smile and she said:
“Kiss me again, Hari. —Please.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Isaac Asimov began his Foundation Series at the age of twenty-one, not realizing that it would one day be considered a cornerstone of science fiction. During his legendary career, Asimov penned over 470 books on subjects ranging from science to Shakespeare to history, though he was most loved for his award-winning science fiction sagas, which include the Robot, Empire, and Foundation series. Named a Grand Master of Science Fiction by the Science Fiction Writers of America, Asimov entertained and educated readers of all ages for close to five decades. He died, at the age of seventy-two, in April 1992.