“After that I could imagine—and I came to Aurora remembering you, and thinking of you, and talking to you endlessly in my mind and thinking that in Aurora I would meet a million Elijahs.”

She stopped, lost in her own thoughts for a moment, then suddenly went on:

“I didn’t. Aurora, it turned out, was, in its way, as bad as Solaria. In Solaria, sex was wrong. It was hated and we all, turned away from it. We could not love for the hatred that sex aroused.

“In Aurora, sex was boring. It was accepted calmly, easily—as easily as breathing. If one felt the impulse one reached out toward anyone who seemed suitable and, if that suitable person was not at the moment engaged in something that could not be put aside, sex followed in any fashion that was convenient. Like breathing.—But where is the ecstasy in breathing? If one were choking, then perhaps the first shuddering breath that followed upon deprivation might be an overwhelming delight and relief. But if one never choked?

“And if one never unwillingly went without sex? If it were taught to youngsters on an even basis with reading and programming? If children were expected to experiment as a matter of course, and if older children were expected to help out?

“Sex—permitted and free as water—has nothing to do with love on Aurora, just as sex—forbidden and a thing of shame—has nothing to do with love on Solaria. In either case, children are few and must come about only after formal application.—And then, if permission is granted, there must be an interlude of sex designed for childbearing only, dull and brackish. If, after a reasonable time, impregnation doesn’t follow, the spirit rebels and artificial insemination is resorted to.

“In time, as on Solaria, ectogenesis will be the thing, so that fertilization and fetal development will take place in genotaria and sex will be left to itself as a form of social interaction and play that has no more to do with love than space-polo does.

“I could not move into the Auroran attitude, Elijah. I had not been brought up to it. With terror, I had reached out for sex and no one refused—and no one mattered. Each man’s eyes were blank when I offered myself and remained blank as they accepted. Another one, they, said, what matter? They were willing, but no more than willing.

“And touching them meant nothing. I might have been touching my husband. I learned to go through with it, to follow their lead, to accept their guidance—and it all still meant nothing. I gained not even the urge to do it to myself and by myself. The feeling you had given me never returned and, in time, I gave up.

“In all this, Dr. Fastolfe was my friend. He alone, on all Aurora, knew everything that happened on Solaria. At least, so I think. You know that the full story was not made public and certainly did not appear in that dreadful hyperwave program that I’ve heard of—I refused to watch it.

“Dr. Fastolfe protected me against the lack of understanding on the part of Aurorans and against their general contempt for Solarians. He protected me also against the despair that filled me after a while.

“No, we were not lovers. I would have offered myself, but by the time it occurred to me that I might do so, I no longer felt that the feeling you had inspired, Elijah, would ever recur. I thought it might have been a trick of memory and I gave up. I did not offer myself. Nor did he offer himself. I do not know why he did not. Perhaps he could see that my despair arose over my failure to find anything useful in sex and did not want to accentuate the despair by repeating the failure. It would be typically kind of him to be careful of me in this way—so we were not lovers. He was merely my friend at a time when I needed that so much more.

“There you are, Elijah. You have the whole answer to the questions you asked. You wanted to know my relationship with Dr. Fastolfe and said you needed information. You have it. Are you satisfied?”

Baley tried not to let his misery show. “I am sorry, Gladia, that life has been so hard for you. You have given me the information I needed. You have given me more information than, perhaps, you think you have.”

Gladia frowned. “In what way?”

Baley did not answer directly. He said, “Gladia, I am glad that your memory of me has meant so much to you. It never occurred to me at any time on Solaria, that I was impressing you so and, even if it had, I would not have tried—You know.”

“I know, Elijah,” she said, softening. “Nor would it have availed you if you had tried. I couldn’t have.”

“And I know that.—Nor do I take what you have told me as an invitation now. One touch, one moment of sexual insight, need be no more than that. Very likely, it can never be repeated and that onetime existence ought not to be spoiled by foolish attempts at resurrection. That is a reason why I do not now offer myself. My failure to do so is not to be interpreted as one more blank ending for you. Besides—”

“Yes. You have, as I said earlier, told me perhaps more than you realize you did. You have told me that the story does not end with your despair.”

“Why do you say that?”

“In telling me of the feeling that was inspired by the touch upon my cheek, you said something like—‘looking back on it long afterward, when I had learned, I realized that I had very nearly experienced an orgasm.’—But then you went on to explain that sex with Aurorans was never successful and, I presume, you did not then experience orgasm either. Yet you must have, Gladia, if you recognized the sensation you experienced that time on Solaria. You could not look back and recognize it for what it was, unless you had learned to love successfully. In other words, you have had a lover and you have experienced love. If I am to believe that Dr. Fastolfe is not your lover and has not been, then it follows that someone else is—or was.”

“And if so? Why is that your concern, Elijah?”

“I don’t know if it is or is not, Gladia. Tell me who it is and, if it proves to be not my concern, that will be the end of it.”

Gladia was silent.

Baley said, “If you don’t tell me, Gladia, I will have to tell you. I told you earlier that I am not in a position to spare your feelings.”

Gladia remained silent, the corners of her lips whitening with pressure.

“It must be someone, Gladia, and your sorrow over Jander’s loss is extreme. You sent Daneel out because you could not bear to look at him for the reminder of Jander that his face brought. If I am wrong in deciding that it was Jander Panell—” He paused a moment, then said harshly, “If the robot, Jander Panell, was not your lover, say so.”

And Gladia whispered, “Jander Panell, the robot, was not my lover.” Then, loudly and firmly, she said, “He was my husband!”

Baley’s lips moved soundlessly, but there was no mistaking the tetrasyllabic exclamation.

“Yes,” said Gladia. “Jehoshaphat! You are startled. Why? Do you disapprove?”

Baley said tonelessly, “it is not my place either to approve or disapprove.”

“Which means you disapprove.”

“Which means I seek only information. How does one distinguish between a lover and a husband on Aurora?”

“If two people live together in the same establishment for a period of time, they may refer to each other as ‘wife’ or ‘husband,’ rather than as ‘lover’.”

“How long a period of time?”

“That varies from region to region, I understand, according to local option. In the city of Eos, the period of time is three months.”

“It is also required that during this period of time one refrain from sexual relations with others?”

Gladia’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Why?”

“I merely ask.”

“Exclusivity is unthinkable on Aurora. Husband or lover, it makes no difference. One engages in sex at pleasure.”

“And did you please while you were with Jander?”