Cleon the Emperor

18.

Manella said thoughtfully, “I guess I won't be seeing you anymore, Planchet.”

Raych was drying himself after his shower. “Why not?”

“Gleb Andorin doesn't want me to.”

“Why not?”

Manella shrugged her smooth shoulders. “He says you have important work to do and no more time to fool around. Maybe he means you'll get a better job.”

Raych stiffened. “What kind of work? Did he mention anything in particular?”

“No, but he said he would be going to the Imperial sector.”

“Did he? Does he often tell you things like that?”

“You know how it is, Planchet. When a fellow's in bed with you, he talks a lot.”

“I know,” said Raych, who was himself careful not to. “What else does he say?”

“Why do you ask?” She frowned a bit. “He always asks about you, too. I noticed that about men. They're curious about each other. Why is that, do you suppose?”

“What do you tell him about me?”

“Not much. Just you're a nice kid and you're a very decent sort. Naturally, I don't tell him I like you better than I like him. That would hurt his feelings-and it might hurt me, too.”

Raych was getting dressed. “So it's good-bye, then.”

“For a while, I suppose. Gleb may change his mind. Of course, I'd like to go to the Imperial sector, if he'd take me. I've never been there.”

Raych almost slipped, but he managed to cough, then said, “I've never been there, either.”

“It's got the biggest buildings and the nicest places and the fanciest restaurants, and that's where the rich people live. I'd like to meet some rich people.”

Raych said, “I suppose there's not much to be gotten out of a person like me.”

“You're all right. You can't think of money all the time, but, by the same token, you've got to think of it some of the time. Especially since I think Gleb is getting tired of me.”

Raych felt compelled to say, “No one could get tired of you,” and then found, a little to his own confusion, that he meant it.

Manella said, “That's what men always say, but you'd be surprised. Anyway, it's been good, you and I, Planchet. Take care of yourself and, who knows, we may see each other again.”

Raych nodded and found himself at a loss for words. There was no way in which he could say or do anything to express his feelings.

With a wrench, he turned his mind in other directions. He had to find out what the Namarti people were planning. If they were separating him from Manella, the crisis must be rapidly approaching. All he had to go on was that queer question about gardening.

Nor could he get any further information back to Seldon. He had been kept under close scrutiny since his meeting with Namarti; and all avenues of communication were cut off-surely another indication of an approaching crisis.

But if he were to find out what was going on only after it was done, and if he could communicate the news only after it was no longer news, he would have failed.