One way Hari Seldon had (out of not too many ways) for pulling away from his work for a time was to visit Raych's apartment, just outside the university grounds. To do this invariably filled him with love for his foster son. There were ample grounds. Raych had been good, capable, and loyal-but besides that was the strange quality Raych had of inspiring trust and love in others.
    Hari had observed it when Raych was a twelve-year-old street boy, who somehow pulled at his own and at Dors's heartstrings. He remembered how Raych had affected¹ Rashelle, the onetime Mayor of Wye. Hari remembered how Joranum had trusted Raych, which led to his own destruction. Raych had even managed to win the heart of the beautiful Manella. Hari did not completely understand this particular quality that Raych embodied², but he enjoyed whatever contact he had with his foster son.
    He entered the apartment with his usual "All well here?"
    Raych put aside the holographic material he was working with and rose to greet him, "All well, Dad."
    "I don't hear Wanda."
    "For good reason. She's out shopping with her mother."
    Seldon seated himself and looked good-humoredly at the chaos³ of reference material. "How's the book coming?"
    "It's doing fine. It's me who might not survive." He sighed. "But for once, we'll get the straight poop on Dahl. Nobody's ever written a book devoted⁴ to that section, wouldja believe?"
    Seldon had always noted⁵ that, whenever Raych talked of his home sector⁶, his Dahlite accent always strengthened.
    Raych said, "And how are you, Dad? Glad the festivities are over?"
    "Enormously. I hated just about every minute of it."
    "Not so anyone could notice."
    "Listen, I had to wear a mask of sorts. I didn't want to spoil the celebration for everyone else."

分享到：