The Gods Themselves - Isaac Asimov Page 0,109

can have some effect on him, but I doubt it.”

Denison shrugged, a useless maneuver inside his spacesuit. “I don’t understand him.”

“I do,” said Selene, softly.

Denison did not respond directly. He shoved the Pionizer and its attendant apparatus into its rocky shelter and said, “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They slipped into the surface entrance at Outlet P-4 in silence and Denison climbed down the entry ladder. Selene dropped past him, braking in quick holds at individual rungs. Denison had learned to do that, but he was dispirited and climbed down in a kind of rebellious refusal to accept acclimation.

They removed their suits in the staging areas, placed them in their lockers. Denison said, “Would you join me for lunch, Selene?”

Selene said uneasily, “You seem upset. Is something wrong?”

“Reaction, I think. Lunch?”

“Yes, of course.”

They ate in Selene’s quarters. She insisted, saying, “I want to talk to you and I can’t do it properly in the cafeteria.”

And when Denison was chewing slowly at something that had a faint resemblance to peanut-flavored veal, she said, “Ben, you haven’t said a word, and you’ve been like this for a week.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Denison, frowning.

“Yes, you have.” She looked into his eyes with concern. “I’m not sure how good my intuition is outside physics, but I suppose there’s something you don’t want to tell me.”

Denison shrugged. “They’re making a fuss about all this back on Earth. Gottstein has been pulling at strings as tough as cables in advance of his trip back. Dr. Lamont is being lionized, and they want me to come back once the paper is written.”

“Back to Earth?”

“Yes. It seems I’m a hero, too.”

“You should be.”

“Compete rehabilitation,” said Denison, thoughtfully, “is what they offer. It’s clear I can get a position in any suitable university or government agency on Earth.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s what I imagine Lamont wants, and would enjoy, and will certainly get. But I don’t want it.”

Selene said, “What do you want then?”

“I want to stay on the Moon.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the cutting edge of humanity and I want to be part of that cutting edge. I want to work at the establishment of cosmeg pumps and that will be only here on the Moon. I want to work on para-theory with the kind of instruments you can dream up and handle, Selene.… I want to be with you, Selene. But will you stay with me?”

“I am as interested in para-theory as you are.”

Denison said, “But won’t Neville pull you off the job now?”

“Barron pull me off?” She said, tightly, “Are you trying to insult me, Ben?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, then, do I misunderstand you? Are you suggesting that I’m working with you because Barron ordered me to?”

“Didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. But that’s not why I’m here. I choose to be here. He may think he can order me about but he can only do so when his orders coincide with my will, as in your case they did. I resent his thinking he can order me otherwise, and I resent your thinking it, too.”

“You two are sex-partners.”

“We have been, yes, but what has that to do with it?

By that argument, I can order him about as easily as he me.”

“Then you can work with me, Selene?”

“Certainly,” she said, coldly. “If I choose to.”

“But do you choose to?”

“As of now, yes.”

And Denison smiled. “The chance that you might not choose to, or even might not be able to, is, I think, what has really been worrying me this past week. I dreaded the end of the project if it meant the end of you. I’m sorry, Selene, I don’t mean to plague you with a sentimental attachment of an old Earthie—”

“Well, there’s nothing old Earthie about your mind, Ben. There are other attachments than sexual. I like being with you.”

There was a pause and Denison’s smile faded, then returned, perhaps a thought more mechanically. “I’m glad for my mind.”

Denison looked away, shook his head slightly, then turned back. She watched him carefully, almost anxiously.

Denison said, “Selene, there’s more than energy involved in the cross-Universe leaks. I suspect you’ve been thinking about that.”

The silence stretched out now, painfully, and finally Selene said, “Oh, that—”

For a while the two stared at each other—Denison embarrassed, Selene almost furtive.

18

Gottstein said, “I haven’t got my Moon-legs quite yet, but this isn’t anything compared to what it cost me to get my Earth-legs. Denison, you had better not dream of returning. You’ll never make it.”

“I have no intention of returning, Commissioner,” said Denison.

“In a way, it’s too bad. You could

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