“It seems like peculiar weather.”

“A matter of land-sea distribution, a planetary orbit that is a bit more eccentric than most, and a few other things. Frankly, I don’t bother with it.” He shrugged. “It’s not my field of interest.”

“You’re a Trader. I imagine you’re not on the planet often.”

“True, but I’m not a Trader in order to escape. I like it here. And yet perhaps I would like it less if I were here more. If we look at it that way, Baleyworld’s harsh conditions serve an important purpose. They encourage trading. Baleyworld produces men who scour the seas for food and there’s a certain similarity between sailing the seas and sailing through space. I would say fully a third of all the Traders plying the space lanes are Baleypeople.”

“You seem in a semimanic state, D.G.,” said Gladia.

“Do I? I think of myself right now as being in a good humor. I have reason to be. So have you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We got off Solaria alive. We know exactly what the Solarian danger is. We’ve gained control of an unusual weapon that should interest our military. And you will be the heroine of Baleyworld. The world officials already know the outline of events and are eager to greet you. For that matter, you’re the heroine of this ship. Almost every man on board volunteered to bring you this coverall. They are all anxious to get close and bathe in your aura, so to speak.”

“Quite a change,” said Gladia dryly.

“Absolutely. Niss—the crewman whom your Daneel chastised—”

“I remember well, D.G.”

“He is anxious to apologize to you. And bring his four mates so that they, too, might apologize. And to kick, in you presence, the one of them who made an improper suggestion. He is not a bad person, my lady.”

“I am certain he isn’t. Assure him, he is forgiven and the incident forgotten. And if you’ll arrange matters, I will shake hands with him and perhaps some of the others before debarking. But you mustn’t let them crowd about me.”

“I understand, but I can’t guarantee there won’t be a certain amount of crowding in Baleytown—that’s the capital city of Baleyworld. There’s no way of stopping various government officials from trying to gain political advantage by being seen with you, while grinning away and bowing.”

“Jehoshaphat! As your Ancestor would say.”

“Don’t say that once we land, madam. It’s an expression reserved for him. It is considered bad taste for anyone else to say it.—There’ll be speeches and cheering and all kinds of meaningless formalities. I’m sorry, my lady.”

She said thoughtfully, “I could do without it, but I suppose there’s no way of stopping it.”

“No way, my lady.”

“How long will it continue?”

“Till they get tired. Several days, perhaps, but there’ll be a certain variety to it.”

“And how long do we stay on the planet?”

“Till I get tired. I’m sorry, my lady, but I have much to do—places to go—friends to see—”

“Women to make love to.”

“Alas for human frailty,” said D.G., grinning broadly.

“You’re doing everything but slobber.”

“A weakness. I can’t bring myself to slobber.”

Gladia smiled. “You’re not totally committed to sanity, are you?”

“I never claimed to be. But, leaving that aside, I also have to consider such dull matters as the fact that my officers and crew would want to see their families and friends, catch up on their sleep, and have a little planetside fun.—And if you want to consider the feelings of inanimate objects, the ship will have to be repaired, refurbished, refreshed, and refueled. Little things like that.”

“How long will all those little things take?”

“It could be months. Who knows?”

“And what do I do meanwhile?”

“You could see our world, broaden your horizons.”

“But your world is not exactly the playground of the Galaxy.”

“Too true, but we’ll try to keep you interested.” He looked at his watch. “One more warning, madam. Do not refer to your age.”

“What cause would I have to do that?”

“It might show up in some casual reference. You’ll be expected to say a few words and you might say, for instance, In all my more than twenty-three decades of life, I have never been so glad to see anyone as I am to see, the people of Baleyworld. If you’re tempted to say anything like that initial clause, resist it.”

“I will. I have no intention of indulging in hyperbole in any case.—But, as a matter of idle curiosity, why not?”

“Simply because it is better for them not to know your age—”

“But they do know my age, don’t they? They know I was your Ancestor’s friend and they know how long ago he lived. Or are they under the impression”—she looked at him narrowly—“that I’m a distant descendant of the Gladia?”

“No, no, they know who you are and how old you are, but they know it only with their heads”—he tapped his forehead—“and few people have working heads, as you may have noticed.”

“Yes, I have. Even on Aurora.”

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want the Settlers to be special in this respect. Well, then, you have the appearance of”—he paused judiciously—“Forty, maybe forty-five, and they’ll accept you as that in their guts, which is where the average person’s real thinking mechanism is located. If you don’t rub it in about your real age.”

“Does it really make a difference?”

“Does it? Look, the average Settler really doesn’t want robots. He has no liking for robots, no desire for robots. There we are satisfied to differ from the Spacers. Long life is different. Forty decades is considerably more than ten.

“Few of us actually reach the forty-decade mark.”

“And few of us actually reach the ten-decade mark. We teach the advantage of short life-quality versus quantity, evolutionary speed, ever-changing world—but nothing really makes people happy about living ten decades when they imagine they could live forty, so past a point the propaganda produces a backlash and it’s best to keep quiet about it. They don’t often see Spacers, as you can imagine, and so they don’t have occasion to grind their teeth over the fact that Spacers look young and vigorous even when they are twice as old as the oldest Settler who ever lived. They’ll see that in you and if they think about it, it will unsettle them.

Gladia said bitterly, “Would you like to have me make a speech and tell them exactly what forty decades means? Shall I tell them for how many years one outlives the spring time of hope, to say nothing of friends and acquaintances. Shall I tell them of the meaninglessness of children and family; of the endless comings and goings of one husband after another, of the misty blurring of the informal matings between and alongside; of the coming of the time when you’ve seen all you want to see, and heard all you want to hear, and find it impossible to think a new thought, of how you forget what excitement and discovery are all about, and learn each year how much more intense boredom can become?”

“Baleypeople wouldn’t believe that. I don’t think I do. Is that the way all Spacers feel or are you making it up?”

“I only know for certain how I myself feel, but I’ve watched others dim as they aged; I’ve watched their dispositions sour, and their ambitions narrow, and their indifferences broaden. “

D.G.’s lips pressed together and he looked somber. “Is the suicide rate high among Spacers? I’ve never heard that it is.”

“It’s virtually zero.”

“But that doesn’t fit what you’re saying.”

“Consider! We’re surrounded by robots who are dedicated to keeping us alive. There’s no way we can kill ourselves when our sharp-eyed and active robots are forever about us. I doubt that any of us would even think of trying. I wouldn’t dream of it myself, if only because I can’t bear the thought of what it would mean to all my household robots and, even more so, to Daneel and Giskard.”

“They’re not really alive, you know. They don’t have feelings.”