Dors and Lodovic had plenty of time to talk.

Passing the time between hyperspace jumps, she found herself telling one story after another about her life with Hari Seldon-the adventures, the political struggles, the endless fascination of living each day with that brilliant man as he led his team in search of rules to describe human behavior. And about her experience emulating a human woman so closely that even her husband forgot, for months at a stretch, that she was an artificial being.

In fact, this was the first time she had talked about it, since her “death” ended that relationship, and Daneel took her to Eos for repair.

Lodovic proved a sympathetic listener-no great surprise there, since he was trained to interact with humans, and patience had always been high on the list of attributes Daneel demanded of his emissaries. Nevertheless, the breadth of his understanding surprised Dors.

Because he no longer had any internal compulsion to obey the Laws of Robotics, she had somehow envisioned him becoming acold creature, more driven by rationality than ever before. But it turned out that Lodovic had discovered a passion for people, ever since his transformation. When it was his turn, he spoke about some of the many hundreds of humans he had met and talked to, especially since declaring himself free from duties assigned by Daneel. He seemed fascinated by the concerns, worries, and triumphs of ordinary men and women…important to each of them, even if the net result hardly mattered on a planetary or galactic scale. Sometimes he intervened in those lives, helping solve a problem here, or to ease some pain over there. Perhaps his efforts would not matter much on the grand scale of things. Certainly they didn’t count compared to the endless struggle against chaos, or the ponderous collapse of the Galactic Empire, but he had learned something important.

“Individual people matter. Their differences are a richness, even more important than their similarities.”

Lodovic met her eyes, offering a measured smile. “Those people out there deserve to be consulted about their destiny. Whether they are wise or foolish, they should see the road and have something to say about how it’s traveled.”

Dors noted the mild rebuke, aimed not only at Daneel Olivaw, but at her own cherished Hari. And yet there was no malice in Lodovic’s voice. His admiration for her former husband was evident.

She found herself reacting at several levels. A huge portion of her positronic brain had been dedicated to emulating human thought patterns and emotions. Those parts could not help automatically responding to Lodovic as a woman might, and not just any woman, but the Dors Venabili she had been for fifty years. She who had loved Hari, but also generally enjoyed the company of forthright men, engaged by the spirited pursuit of ideas. Lodovic’s unabashed vigor and avid intelligence naturally appealed to that part of her, as did his evident compassion.

Of course, he knows that I have those response sets. Could he be tailoring his demeanor in order to appeal to them?

Does that mean he’s flirting with me?

There were other levels. She could tell that he sincerely meant the words he spoke. Robots found it hard to lie to each other when their guard was down. And yet, there remained a gulf between them. Something that might leave them forever separated, as if coming from completely different worlds.

I feel the Laws of Robotics. They never cease urgently throbbing. Driving me to find some vital way that I can serve. Lodovic is free of this compulsion. He seeks to help humanity strictly as a matter of choice, for moral or philosophical reasons.

It seemed a frail basis for trusting him. What if he changed his mind tomorrow?

At yet another level, Dors noted the delicious irony of it all. In trying to decide whether or not to trust Lodovic, she was in a position similar to almost every real woman who ever listened to the persuasive voice of a male.

Joan of Arc agreed enthusiastically with that comparison, urging Dors to make a leap of faith. But the issues were too important, and robotic logic compelled her to seek better evidence.

Besides, my human husband is still alive out there. Even if he thinks I’m dead, and Daneel commanded me to turn my thoughts away from that past life, I am still driven by a need for him.

The human-simulation programs within her could not fill the void, not even with a companion as fascinating as Lodovic Trema. She must have closure with Hari. She must see him again, before those programs could possibly turn their attention elsewhere.

As a tense confrontation loomed, Hari noticed they had begun to draw spectators. Horis Antic pointed to the brow of a nearby ridge, consisting of rubble from some ancient university building. Dark figures could be seen crouching, occasionally lifting themselves higher to peer down at the humans gathered by the starship.

“I thought the last inhabitants were evacuated ten thousand years ago,” the bureaucrat said.

Biron Maserd nodded. “The university my ancestor attended…I wonder if it might have been this one…was among the last places shut down before the final evacuation. But perhaps some people stayed behind.”

Sybyl stood nearby, eyes darting from the hilltops to her computer screen. “They appear to be human, though there are…anomalies. The poor creatures only wanted to stay at their home…humanity’s home…but the empire took away all the props that made normal life possible. I can’t imagine what it’s been like trying to survive in this radioactive maelstrom so many years. It surely must have changed them.”

Maserd sighed. Hari was perhaps the only one who heard the nobleman mutter a single word under his breath.“Speciation.…”

Not fat away, Mors Planch conferred with one of his soldier-volunteers from Ktlina. The pirate captain turned to inform his captives, “The incoming ship has landed somewhere to the west of here. It carries an advanced imperial camouflage system. Even on Ktlina we were only able to break the secret of its stealth coatings during the last few months-too late for that renaissance. But maybe next time the rebels will be better prepared.”

Mors Planch did not appear worried. His men were well positioned. And a device hovered ten meters above the ship, rotating constantly on a cushion of antigravity, sending out waves of energy tuned to detect the approach of positronic brains.

“Why don’t we simply take off?” Sybyl demanded.

“Something happened to our escort ships. I want to find out more before we go charging across space.”

Abruptly a dark missile fell out of the sky, smashing into the ground just meters from his feet. That first stony weapon was followed by several more-jagged pebbles from some glassy debris-and soon a flurry rained on the small encampment, clattering against the starship hull, making everyone dive for cover.

Finding relative safety under one of the vessel’s stabilizer fins, Hari crouched between Horis and Maserd. He heard blaster charges from the soldiers’ weapons. The rim of a nearby hilltop erupted with explosions as men from Ktlina fired savagely to clear the heights. Hari witnessed one native-a black silhouette against moonlit clouds-lean back to whirl a ropy sling, unleashing his primitive projectile before a blaster bolt sliced him in half. For a few harsh moments, all was noise and confusion, screams of rage, pain, and terror…

…then all fell silent. Hari peered across the night and saw no further movement on the rubble mounds. Nearby, two Ktlina soldiers lay slumped on the ground.

Mors Planch stood up, followed by Sybyl and Maserd. Horis Antic stayed crouched by the hull, but Hari stepped out just in time to see someone else emerge from the shadows, a silhouette beyond the far comer of the ship.