Raych came in, blowing on his hands. “I’m all for deliberate variety in the weather. You don’t want things under a dome to always be the same. Today, though, they made it just a little too cold and worked up a wind, besides. I think it’s about time someone complained to weather control.”
“I don’t know that it’s weather control’s fault,” said Seldon. “It’s getting harder to control things in general.”
“I know. Deterioration.” Raych brushed his thick black mustache with the back of his hand. He did that often, as though he had never quite managed to get over the few months during which he had been mustacheless in Wye. He had also put on a little weight around the middle and, overall, had come to seem very comfortable and middle- class. Even his Dahl accent had faded somewhat.
He took off his light coverall and said, “And how’s the old birthday boy?”
“Resenting it. Wait, wait, my son. One of these days, you’ll be celebrating your fortieth birthday. We’ll see how funny you’ll think that is.”
“Not as funny as sixty.”
“Stop joking,” said Manella, who had been chafing Raych’s hands, trying to warm them.
Seldon spread his own hands. “We’re doing the wrong thing, Raych. Your wife is of the opinion that all this talk about my turning sixty has sent little Wanda into a decline over the possibility of my dying.”
“Really?” said Raych. “That accounts for it, then. I stopped in to see her and she told me at once, before I even had a chance to say a word, that she had had a bad dream. Was it about your dying?”
“Apparently,” said Seldon.
“Well, she’ll get over that. No way of stopping bad dreams.”
“I’m not dismissing it that easily,” said Manella. “She’s brooding over it and that’s not healthy. I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
“As you say, Manella,” said Raych agreeably. “You’re my dear wife and whatever you say—about Wanda— goes.” And he brushed his mustache again.
His dear wife! It hadn’t been so easy to make her his dear wife. Raych remembered his mother’s attitude toward the possibility. Talk about nightmares. It was he who had the periodic nightmares in which he had to face down the furious Dors Venabili once more.
5
Raych’s first clear memory, after emerging from his desperance-induced ordeal, was that of being shaved.
He felt the vibrorazor moving along his cheek and he said weakly, “Don’t cut anywhere near my upper lip, barber. I want my mustache back.”
The barber, who had already received his instructions from Seldon, held up a mirror to reassure him.
Dors Venabili, who was sitting at his bedside, said, “Let him work, Raych. Don’t excite yourself.”
Raych’s eyes turned toward her momentarily and he was quiet. When the barber left, Dors said, “How do you feel, Raych?”
“Rotten,” he muttered. “I’m so depressed, I can’t stand it.”
“That’s the lingering effect of the desperance you’ve been dosed with. The effects will wash out.”
“I can’t believe it. How long has it been?”
“Never mind. It will take time. You were pumped full of it.”
He looked around restlessly. “Has Manella been to see me?”
“That woman?” (Raych was getting used to hearing Dors speak of Manella with those words and in that tone of voice.) “No. You’re not fit for visitors yet.”
Interpreting the look on Raych’s face, Dors quickly added, “I’m an exception because I’m your mother, Raych. Why would you want that woman to see you, anyway? You’re in no condition to be seen.”
“All the more reason to see her,” muttered Raych. “I want her to see me at my worst.” He then turned to one side dispiritedly. “I want to sleep.”
Dors Venabili shook her head. Later that day she said to Seldon, “I don’t know what we’re going to do about Raych, Hari. He’s quite unreasonable.”
Seldon said, “He’s not well, Dors. Give the young man a chance.”
“He keeps muttering about that woman. Whatever her name is.”
“Manella Dubanqua. It’s not a hard name to remember.”
“I think he wants to set up housekeeping with her. Live with her.
Seldon shrugged. “Raych is thirty—old enough to make up his own mind.”
“As his parents, we have something to say—surely.”
Hari sighed. “And I’m sure you’ve said it, Dors. And once you’ve said it, I’m sure he’ll do as he wishes.”
“Is that your final word? Do you intend to do nothing while he makes plans to marry a woman like that?”
“What do you expect me to do, Dors? Manella saved Raych’s life. Do you expect him to forget that? She saved mine, too, for that matter.”
That seemed to feed Dors’s anger. She said, “And you also saved her. The score is even.”
“I didn’t exactly—”
“Of course you did. The military rascals who now run the Empire would have slaughtered her if you didn’t step in and sell them your resignation and your support in order to save her.”
“Though I may have evened the score, which I don’t think I have, Raych has not. And, Dors dear, I would be very careful when it came to using unfortunate terms to describe our government. These times are not going to be as easy as the times when Cleon ruled and there will always be informers to repeat what they hear you say.”
“Never mind that. I don’t like that woman. I presume that, at least, is permissible.”
“Permissible, certainly, but of no use.”
Hari looked down at the floor, deep in thought. Dors’s usually unfathomable black eyes were positively flashing in anger. Hari looked up.
“What I’d like to know, Dors, is
Dors snapped back, “Yes, Hari. I know that better than anyone. And if she had not been there, I would not have been able to do a thing to prevent your murder. I suppose you think I should be grateful. But every time I look at that woman, I am reminded of
But the next day even Dors had to back down when the doctor said, “Your son wishes to see a woman named Manella.”
“He’s in no condition to see visitors,” snapped Dors.
“On the contrary. He is. He’s doing quite well. Besides, he insists and is doing so most strenuously. I don’t know that we’d be wise to refuse him.”
So they brought in Manella and Raych greeted her effusively and with the first faint sign of happiness since he had arrived at the hospital.
He made an unmistakable small gesture of dismissal at Dors. Lips tightened, she left.
And the day came when Raych said, “She’ll have me, Mom.”
Dors said, “Do you expect me to be surprised, you foolish man? Of course she’ll have you. You’re her only chance, now that she’s been disgraced, ousted from the security establishment?.?.?.”
Raych said, “Mom, if you’re trying to lose me, this is exactly the way of doing it. Don’t say things like that.”
“I’m only thinking of your welfare.”
“I’ll think of my own good, thank you. I’m no one’s ticket to respectability—if you’ll stop to think of it. I’m not exactly handsome. I’m short. Dad isn’t First Minister anymore and I talk solid lower-class. What’s there for her to be proud of in me? She can do a lot better, but she wants me. And let me tell you, I want her.”
