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did not—
    He could feel his heart pounding, and there was clearly no point in deliberately lengthening the suspense.
    He thrust his hands out, right, left, and placed them on the outlines upon the desk. At once, he had the illusion of another pair of hands holding his. Hissenses extended, and he could see Gaia in all directions, green and moist, the Gaians still watching. When he willed himself to look upward, he saw a largely cloudy sky. Again, at his will, the clouds vanished and he looked at an unbroken blue sky with the orb of Gaia’s sun filtered out.
    Again he willed and the blue parted and he saw the stars.
    He wiped them out, and willed and saw the Galaxy, like a foreshortened pinwheel. He tested the computerized image, adjusting its orientation, altering the apparent progress of time, making it spin first in one direction, then the other. He located the sun of Sayshell, the nearest important star to Gaia; then the sun of Terminus; then of Trantor; one after the other. He traveled from star to star in the Galactic map that dwelt in the bowels of the computer.
    Then he withdrew his hands and let the world of reality surround him again—and realized he had been standing all this time, half-bowing over the computer to make the hand contact. He felt stiff and had to stretch his back muscles before sitting down.
    He stared at the computer with warm relief. It had worked perfectly. It had been, if anything, more responsive, and what he felt for it he could only describe as love. After all, while he held its hands (he resolutely refused to admit to himself that he thought of it as
her
hands) they were part of each other, and his will directed, controlled, experienced, and was part of a greater self. He and it must feel, in a small way (he suddenly, and disturbingly, thought), what Gaia did in a much larger way.
    He shook his head. No! In the case of the computer and himself, it was he—Trevize—who was in entire control. The computer was a thing of total submission.
    He rose and moved out to the compact galley and dining area. There was plenty of food of all kinds, with proper refrigeration and easy-heating facilities. He hadalready noted that the book-films in his room were in the proper order, and he was reasonably sure—no, completely sure—that Pelorat had his personal library in safe storage. He would otherwise surely have heard from him by now.
    Pelorat! That reminded him. He stepped into Pelorat’s room. “Is there room for Bliss here, Janov?”
    “Oh yes, quite.”
    “I can convert the common room into her bedroom.”
    Bliss looked up, wide-eyed. “I have no desire for a separate bedroom. I am quite content to stay here with Pel. I suppose, though, that I may use the other rooms when needed. The gym, for instance.”
    “Certainly. Any room but mine.”
    “Good. That’s what I would have suggested be the arrangement, if I had had the making of it. Naturally, you will stay out of ours.”
    “Naturally,” said Trevize, looking down and realizing that his shoes overlapped the threshold. He took a half-step backward and said grimly, “These are not honeymoon quarters, Bliss.”
    “I should say, in view of its compactness, that it is exactly that even though Gaia extended it to half again as wide as it was.”
    Trevize tried not to smile. “You’ll have to be very friendly.”
    “We are,” said Pelorat, clearly ill at ease at the topic of conversation, “but really, old chap, you can leave it to us to make our own arrangements.”
    “Actually, I can’t,” said Trevize slowly. “I still want to make it clear that these are not honeymoon accommodations. I have no objection to anything you do by mutual consent, but you must realize that you will have no privacy. I hope you understand that, Bliss.”
    “There is a door,” said Bliss, “and I imagine you will not disturb us when it is locked—short of a real emergency, that is.”
    “Of course I won’t. However, there is no