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"It is not a matter of work. h is a matter of being used. Farewell, Dr. Seldon. -Sergeant, blast him."

The sergeant drew his blaster at once and Dors, with a loud cry, lunged forward-but Seldon reached out for her and caught her by the elbow. He hung on desperately.

"Stay hack, Dors," he shouted, "or he'll kill you. He won't kill me. You too, Raych. Stand back. Don't move."

Seldon faced the sergeant. "You hesitate, Sergeant, because you know you cannot shoot I might have killed you ten days ago, but I did not. And you gave me your word of honor at that time that you would protect me."

"What are you waiting for?" snapped Rashelle. "I said shoot him down, Sergeant."

Seldom said nothing more. He stood there while the sergeant, eyes bulging, held his blaster steady and pointed at Seldon's head.

"You have your order!" shrieked Rashelle.

"I have your word," said Seldon quietly.

And Sergeant Thalus said in a choked tone, "Dishonored either way." His hand fell and his blaster clanged to the floor.

Rashelle cried out, "Then you too betray me'."

Before Seldon could move or Dors free herself from his grip, Rashelle seized the blaster, turned it on the sergeant, and closed contact.

Seldon had never seen anyone blasted before. Somehow, from the name of the weapon perhaps, he had expected a loud noise, an explosion of flesh and blood. This Wyan blaster, at least, did nothing of the sort. What mangling it did to the organs inside the sergeant's chest Seldon mold not tell but, without a change in expression, without a wince of pain, the sergeant crumbled and fell, dead beyond any doubt or any hope.

And Rashelle turned the blaster on Seldon with a firmness that put to rest any hope for his own life beyond the next second.

It was Raych, however, who jumped into action the moment the sergeant fell. Racing between Seldon and Rashelle, he waved his hands wildly.

"Missus, Missus," he called. "Don't shoot."

For a moment, Rashelle looked confused. "Out of the way, Raych. I don't want to hurt you."

That moment of hesitation was all Dors needed. Breaking loose violently, she plunged toward Rashelle with a long low dive. Rashelle went down with a cry and the blaster hit the ground a second time.

Raych retrieved it.

Seldon, with a deep and shuddering breath, said, "Raych, give that to me."

But Raych backed away. "Ya ain't gonna kill her, are ya, Mister Seldon? She was nice to me."

"I won't kill anyone, Raych," said Seldon. "She killed the sergeant and would have killed me, but she didn't shoot rather than hurt you and we'll let her live for that."

h was Seldon, who now sat down, the blaster held loosely in his hand, white Dors removed the neuronic whip from the dead sergeant's other holster.

A new voice rang out. "I'll take care of her now, Seldon."

Seldon looked up and in sudden joy said, "Hummin! Finally!"

"I'm sorry it took so long, Seldon. I had a lot to do. How are you, Dr. Venabili? I take it this is Mannix's daughter, Rashelle. But who is the boy?"

"Raych is a young Dahlite friend of ours," said Seldon.

Soldiers were entering and, at a small gesture from Hummin, they lifted Rashelle respectfully.

Dors, able to suspend her intent surveillance of the other woman, brushed at her clothes with her hands and smoothed her blouse. Seldon suddenly realized that he was still in his bathrobe.

Rashelle, shaking herself loose from the soldiers with contempt, pointed to Hummin and said to Seldon, "Who is this?"

Seldon said, "It is Chetter Hummin, a friend of mine and my protector on this planet."

"Your protector." Rashelle laughed madly. "You fool! You idiot! That man is Demerzel and if you look at your Venabili woman, you will see from her face that she is perfectly aware of that. You have been trapped all along, far worse than ever you were with me!"

90.

Hummin and Seldon sat at lunch that day, quite alone, a pall of quiet between them for the most part. h was toward the end of the meal that Seldon stirred and said in a lively voice,