    <section>
     <title>
      <p>48.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize glanced now and then at Bliss’s face, which seemed entirely concentrated on Bander. Trevize had grown quite certain he knew what was going on.</p>
     <p>Bander, despite its paean to freedom, found this unique opportunity irresistible. There was no way it could speak to robots on a basis of intellectual equality, and certainly not to animals. To speak to its fellow-Solarians would be, to it, unpleasant, and what communication there must be would be forced, and never spontaneous.</p>
     <p>As for Trevize, Bliss, and Pelorat, they might be half-human to Bander, and it might regard them as no more an infringement on its liberty than a robot or a goat would be—but they were its intellectual equals (or near equals) and the chance to speak to them was a unique luxury it had never experienced before.</p>
     <p>No wonder, Trevize thought, it was indulging itself in this way. And Bliss (Trevize was doubly sure) was encouraging this, just pushing Bander’s mind ever so gently in order to urge it to do what it very much wanted to do in any case.</p>
     <p>Bliss, presumably, was working on the supposition that if Bander spoke enough, it might tell them something useful concerning Earth. That made sense to Trevize, so that even if he had not been truly curious about the subject under discussion, he would nevertheless have endeavored to continue the conversation.</p>
     <p>“What do those brain-lobes do?” Trevize asked.</p>
     <p>Bander said, “They are transducers. They are activated by the flow of heat and they convert the heat-flow into mechanical energy.”</p>
     <p>“I cannot believe that. The flow of heat is insufficient.”</p>
     <p>“Little half-human, you do not think. If there were many Solarians crowded together, each trying to make use of the flow of heat, then, yes, the supply would be insufficient. I, however, have over forty thousand square kilometers that are mine, mine alone. I can collect heat-flow from any quantity of those square kilometers with no one to dispute me, so the quantity is sufficient. Do you see?”</p>
     <p>“Is it that simple to collect heat-flow over a wide area? The mere act of concentration takes a great deal of energy.”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps, but I am not aware of it. My transducer-lobes are constantly concentrating heat-flow so that as work is needed, work is done. When I drew your weapons into the air, a particular volume of the sunlit atmosphere lost some of its excess heat to a volume of the shaded area, so that I was using solar energy for the purpose. Instead of using mechanical or electronic devices to bring that about, however, I used a neuronic device.” It touched one of the transducer-lobes gently. “It does it quickly, efficiently, constantly—and effortlessly.”</p>
     <p>“Unbelievable,” muttered Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Not at all unbelievable,” said Bander. “Consider the delicacy of the eye and ear, and how they can turn small quantities of photons and air vibrations into information. That would seem unbelievable if you had never come across it before. The transducer-lobes are no more unbelievable, and would not be so to you, were they not unfamiliar.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “What do you do with these constantly operating transducer-lobes?”</p>
     <p>“We run our world,” said Bander. “Every robot on this vast estate obtains its energy from me; or, rather, from natural heat-flow. Whether a robot is adjusting a contact, or felling a tree, the energy is derived from mental transduction—<emphasis>my</emphasis> mental transduction.”</p>
     <p>“And if you are asleep?”</p>
     <p>“The process of transduction continues waking or sleeping, little half-human,” said Bander. “Do you cease breathing when you sleep? Does your heart stop beating? At night, my robots continue working at the cost of cooling Solaria’s interior a bit. The change is immeasurably small on a global scale and there are only twelve hundred of us, so that all the energy we use does not appreciably shorten our sun’s life or drain the world’s internal heat.”</p>
     <p>“Has it occurred to you that you might use it as a weapon?”</p>
     <p>Bander stared at Trevize as though he were something peculiarly incomprehensible. “I suppose by that,” he said, “you mean that Solaria might confront other worlds with energy weapons based on transduction? Why should we? Even if we could beat their energy weapons based on other principles—which is anything but certain—what would we gain? The control of other worlds? What do we want with other worlds when we have an ideal world of our own? Do we want to establish our domination over half-humans and use them in forced labor? We have our robots that are far better than half-humans for the purpose. We have everything. We want nothing—except to be left to ourselves. See here—I’ll tell you another story.”</p>
     <p>“Go ahead,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Twenty thousand years ago when the half-creatures of Earth began to swarm into space and we ourselves withdrew underground, the other Spacer worlds were determined to oppose the new Earth-settlers. So they struck at Earth.”</p>
     <p>“At Earth,” said Trevize, trying to hide his satisfaction over the fact that the subject had come up at last.</p>
     <p>“Yes, at the center. A sensible move, in a way. If you wish to kill a person, you strike not at a finger or a heel, but at the heart. And our fellow-Spacers, not too far removed from human beings themselves in passions, managed to set Earth’s surface radioactively aflame, so that the world became largely uninhabitable.”</p>
     <p>“Ah, that’s what happened,” said Pelorat, clenching a fist and moving it rapidly, as though nailing down a thesis. “I knew it could not be a natural phenomenon. How was it done?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know how it was done,” said Bander indifferently, “and in any case it did the Spacers no good. That is the point of the story. The Settlers continued to swarm and the Spacers—died out. They had tried to compete, and vanished. We Solarians retired and refused to compete, and so we are still here.”</p>
     <p>“And so are the Settlers,” said Trevize grimly.</p>
     <p>“Yes, but not forever. Swarmers must fight, must compete, and eventually must die. That may take tens of thousands of years, but we can wait. And when it happens, we Solarians, whole, solitary, liberated, will have the Galaxy to ourselves. We can then use, or not use, any world we wish to in addition to our own.”</p>
     <p>“But this matter of Earth,” said Pelorat, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Is what you tell us legend or history?”</p>
     <p>“How does one tell the difference, half-Pelorat?” said Bander. “All history is legend, more or less.”</p>
     <p>“But what do your records say? May I see the records on the subject, Bander? —Please understand that this matter of myths, legends, and primeval history is my field. I am a scholar dealing with such matters and particularly with those matters as related to Earth.”</p>
     <p>“I merely repeat what I have heard,” said Bander. “There are no records on the subject. Our records deal entirely with Solarian affairs and other worlds are mentioned in them only insofar as they impinge upon us.”</p>
     <p>“Surely, Earth has impinged on you,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“That may be, but, if so, it was long, long ago, and Earth, of all worlds, was most repulsive to us. If we had any records of Earth, I am sure they were destroyed out of sheer revulsion.”</p>
     <p>Trevize gritted his teeth in chagrin. “By yourselves?” he asked.</p>
     <p>Bander turned its attention to Trevize. “There is no one else to destroy them.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat would not let go of the matter. “What else have you heard concerning Earth?”</p>
     <p>Bander thought. It said, “When I was young, I heard a tale from a robot about an Earthman who once visited Solaria; about a Solarian woman who left with him and became an important figure in the Galaxy. That, however, was, in my opinion, an invented tale.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat bit at his lip. “Are you sure?”</p>
     <p>“How can I be sure of anything in such matters?” said Bander. “Still, it passes the bounds of belief that an Earthman would dare come to Solaria, or that Solaria would allow the intrusion. It is even less likely that a Solarian woman—we were half-humans then, but even so—should voluntarily leave this world. —But come, let me show you my home.”</p>
     <p>“Your home?” said Bliss, looking about. “Are we not in your home?”</p>
     <p>“Not at all,” said Bander. “This is an anteroom. It is a viewing room. In it I see my fellow-Solarians when I must. Their images appear on that wall, or three-dimensionally in the space before the wall. This room is a public assembly, therefore, and not part of my home. Come with me.”</p>
     <p>It walked on ahead, without turning to see if it were followed, but the four robots left their corners, and Trevize knew that if he and his companions did not follow spontaneously, the robots would gently coerce them into doing so.</p>
     <p>The other two got to their feet and Trevize whispered lightly to Bliss, “Have you been keeping it talking?”</p>
     <p>Bliss pressed his hand, and nodded. “Just the same, I wish I knew what its intentions were,” she added, with a note of uneasiness in her voice.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>49.</p>
     </title>
     <p>They followed Bander. The robots remained at a polite distance, but their presence was a constantly felt threat.</p>
     <p>They were moving through a corridor, and Trevize mumbled low-spiritedly, “There’s nothing helpful about Earth on this planet. I’m sure of it. Just another variation on the radioactivity theme.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to go on to the third set of co-ordinates.”</p>
     <p>A door opened before them, revealing a small room. Bander said, “Come, half-humans, I want to show you how we live.”</p>
     <p>Trevize whispered, “It gets infantile pleasure out of display. I’d love to knock it down.”</p>
     <p>“Don’t try to compete in childishness,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>Bander ushered all three into the room. One of the robots followed as well. Bander gestured the other robots away and entered itself. The door closed behind it.</p>
     <p>“It’s an elevator,” said Pelorat, with a pleased air of discovery.</p>
     <p>“So it is,” said Bander. “Once we went underground, we never truly emerged. Nor would we want to, though I find it pleasant to feel the sunlight on occasion. I dislike clouds or night in the open, however. That gives one the sensation of being underground without truly being underground, if you know what I mean. That is cognitive dissonance, after a fashion, and I find it very unpleasant.”</p>
     <p>“Earth built underground,” said Pelorat. “The Caves of Steel, they called their cities. And Trantor built underground, too, even more extensively, in the old Imperial days. —And Comporellon builds underground right now. It is a common tendency, when you come to think of it.”</p>
     <p>“Half-humans swarming underground and we living underground in isolated splendor are two widely different things,” said Bander.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “On Terminus, dwelling places are on the surface.”</p>
     <p>“And exposed to the weather,” said Bander. “Very primitive.”</p>
     <p>The elevator, after the initial feeling of lower gravity that had given away its nature to Pelorat, gave no sensation of motion whatsoever. Trevize was wondering how far down it would penetrate, when there was a brief feeling of higher gravity and the door opened.</p>
     <p>Before them was a large and elaborately furnished room. It was dimly lit, though the source of the light was not apparent. It almost seemed as though the air itself were faintly luminous.</p>
     <p>Bander pointed its finger and where it pointed the light grew a bit more intense. It pointed it elsewhere and the same thing happened. It placed its left hand on a stubby rod to one side of the doorway and, with its right hand, made an expansive circular gesture so that the whole room lit up as though it were in sunlight, but with no sensation of heat.</p>
     <p>Trevize grimaced and said, half-aloud, “The man’s a charlatan.”</p>
     <p>Bander said sharply. “Not ‘the man,’ but ‘the Solarian.’ I’m not sure what the word ‘charlatan’ means, but if I catch the tone of voice, it is opprobrious.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “It means one who is not genuine, who arranges effects to make what is done seem more impressive than it really is.”</p>
     <p>Bander said, “I admit that I love the dramatic, but what I have shown you is not an effect. It is real.”</p>
     <p>It tapped the rod on which its left hand was resting. “This heat-conducting rod extends several kilometers downward, and there are similar rods in many convenient places throughout my estate. I know there are similar rods on other estates. These rods increase the rate at which heat leaves Solaria’s lower regions for the surface and eases its conversion into work. I do not need the gestures of the hand to produce the light, but it does lend an air of drama or, perhaps, as you point out, a slight touch of the not-genuine. I enjoy that sort of thing.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Do you have much opportunity to experience the pleasure of such little dramatic touches?”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Bander, shaking its head. “My robots are not impressed with such things. Nor would my fellow-Solarians be. This unusual chance of meeting half-humans and displaying for them is most—amusing.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “The light in this room shone dimly when we entered. Does it shine dimly at all times?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, a small drain of power—like keeping the robots working. My entire estate is always running, and those parts of it not engaged in active labor are idling.”</p>
     <p>“And you supply the power constantly for all this vast estate?”</p>
     <p>“The sun and the planet’s core supply the power. I am merely the conduit. Nor is all the estate productive. I keep most of it as wilderness and well stocked with a variety of animal life; first, because that protects my boundaries, and second, because I find esthetic value in it. In fact, my fields and factories are small. They need only supply my own needs, plus some specialties to exchange for those of others. I have robots, for instance, that can manufacture and install the heat-conducting rods at need. Many Solarians depend upon me for that.”</p>
     <p>“And your home?” asked Trevize. “How large is that?”</p>
     <p>It must have been the right question to ask, for Bander beamed. “Very large. One of the largest on the planet, I believe. It goes on for kilometers in every direction. I have as many robots caring for my home underground, as I have in all the thousands of square kilometers of surface.”</p>
     <p>“You don’t live in all of it, surely,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“It might conceivably be that there are chambers I have never entered, but what of that?” said Bander. “The robots keep every room clean, well ventilated, and in order. But come, step out here.”</p>
     <p>They emerged through a door that was not the one through which they had entered and found themselves in another corridor. Before them was a little topless ground-car that ran on tracks.</p>
     <p>Bander motioned them into it, and one by one they clambered aboard. There was not quite room for all four, plus the robot, but Pelorat and Bliss squeezed together tightly to allow room for Trevize. Bander sat in the front with an air of easy comfort, the robot at its side, and the car moved along with no sign of overt manipulation of controls other than Bander’s smooth hand motions now and then.</p>
     <p>“This is a car-shaped robot, actually,” said Bander, with an air of negligent indifference.</p>
     <p>They progressed at a stately pace, very smoothly past doors that opened as they approached, and closed as they receded. The decorations in each were of widely different kinds as though robots had been ordered to devise combinations at random.</p>
     <p>Ahead of them the corridor was gloomy, and behind them as well. At whatever point they actually found themselves, however, they were in the equivalent of cool sunlight. The rooms, too, would light as the doors opened. And each time, Bander moved its hand slowly and gracefully.</p>
     <p>There seemed no end to the journey. Now and then they found themselves curving in a way that made it plain that the underground mansion spread out in two dimensions. (No, three, thought Trevize, at one point, as they moved steadily down a shallow declivity.)</p>
     <p>Wherever they went, there were robots, by the dozens—scores—hundreds—engaged in unhurried work whose nature Trevize could not easily divine. They passed the open door of one large room in which rows of robots were bent quietly over desks.</p>
     <p>Pelorat asked, “What are they doing, Bander?”</p>
     <p>“Bookkeeping,” said Bander. “Keeping statistical records, financial accounts, and all sorts of things that, I am very glad to say, I don’t have to bother with. This isn’t just an idle estate. About a quarter of its growing area is given over to orchards. An additional tenth are grain fields, but it’s the orchards that are really my pride. We grow the best fruit in the world and grow them in the largest number of varieties, too. A Bander peach is <emphasis>the</emphasis> peach on Solaria. Hardly anyone else even bothers to grow peaches. We have twenty-seven varieties of apples and—and so on. The robots could give you full information.”</p>
     <p>“What do you do with all the fruit?” asked Trevize. “You can’t eat it all yourself.”</p>
     <p>“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m only moderately fond of fruit. It’s traded to the other estates.”</p>
     <p>“Traded for what?”</p>
     <p>“Mineral material mostly. I have no mines worth mentioning on my estates. Then, too, I trade for whatever is required to maintain a healthy ecological balance. I have a very large variety of plant and animal life on the estate.”</p>
     <p>“The robots take care of all that, I suppose,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“They do. And very well, too.”</p>
     <p>“All for one Solarian.”</p>
     <p>“All for the estate and its ecological standards. I happen to be the only Solarian who visits the various parts of the estate—when I choose—but that is part of my absolute freedom.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I suppose the others—the other Solarians—also maintain a local ecological balance and have marshlands, perhaps, or mountainous areas or seafront estates.”</p>
     <p>Bander said, “I suppose so. Such things occupy us in the conferences that world affairs sometimes make necessary.”</p>
     <p>“How often do you have to get together?” asked Trevize. (They were going through a rather narrow passageway, quite long, and with no rooms on either side. Trevize guessed that it might have been built through an area that did not easily allow anything wider to be constructed, so that it served as a connecting link between two wings that could each spread out more widely.</p>
     <p>“Too often. It’s a rare month when I don’t have to pass some time in conference with one of the committees I am a member of. Still, although I may not have mountains or marshlands on my estate, my orchards, my fishponds, and my botanical gardens are the best in the world.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “But, my dear fellow—I mean, Bander—I would assume you have never left your estate and visited those of others—”</p>
     <p>“Certainly <emphasis>not</emphasis>,” said Bander, with an air of outrage.</p>
     <p>“I said I assumed that,” said Pelorat mildly. “But in that case, how can you be certain that yours are best, never having investigated, or even seen the others?”</p>
     <p>“Because,” said Bander, “I can tell from the demand for my products in interestate trade.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “What about manufacturing?”</p>
     <p>Bander said, “There are estates where they manufacture tools and machinery. As I said, on my estate we make the heat-conducting rods, but those are rather simple.”</p>
     <p>“And robots?”</p>
     <p>“Robots are manufactured here and there. Throughout history, Solaria has led all the Galaxy in the cleverness and subtlety of robot design.”</p>
     <p>“Today also, I imagine,” said Trevize, carefully having the intonation make the remark a statement and not a question.</p>
     <p>Bander said, “Today? With whom is there to compete today? Only Solaria makes robots nowadays. Your worlds do not, if I interpret what I hear on the hyper-wave correctly.”</p>
     <p>“But the other Spacer worlds?”</p>
     <p>“I told you. They no longer exist.”</p>
     <p>“At all?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t think there is a Spacer alive anywhere but on Solaria.”</p>
     <p>“Then is there no one who knows the location of Earth?”</p>
     <p>“Why would anyone want to know the location of Earth?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat broke in, “I want to know. It’s my field of study.”</p>
     <p>“Then,” said Bander, “you will have to study something else. I know nothing about the location of Earth, nor have I heard of anyone who ever did, nor do I care a sliver of robot-metal about the matter.”</p>
     <p>The car came to a halt, and, for a moment, Trevize thought that Bander was offended. The halt was a smooth one, however, and Bander, getting out of the car, looked its usual amused self as it motioned the others to get out also.</p>
     <p>The lighting in the room they entered was subdued, even after Bander had brightened it with a gesture. It opened into a side corridor, on both sides of which were smaller rooms. In each one of the smaller rooms was one or two ornate vases, sometimes flanked by objects that might have been film projectors.</p>
     <p>“What is all this, Bander?” asked Trevize.</p>
     <p>Bander said, “The ancestral death chambers, Trevize.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>50.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat looked about with interest. “I suppose you have the ashes of your ancestors interred here?”</p>
     <p>“If you mean by ‘interred,’?” said Bander, “buried in the ground, you are not quite right. We may be underground, but this is my mansion, and the ashes are in it, as we are right now. In our own language we say that the ashes are ‘inhoused.’?” It hesitated, then said, “?‘House’ is an archaic word for ‘mansion.’?”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked about him perfunctorily. “And these are all your ancestors? How many?”</p>
     <p>“Nearly a hundred,” said Bander, making no effort to hide the pride in its voice. “Ninety-four, to be exact. Of course, the earliest are not true Solarians—not in the present sense of the word. They were half-people, masculine and feminine. Such half-ancestors were placed in adjoining urns by their immediate descendants. I don’t go into those rooms, of course. It’s rather ‘shamiferous.’ At least, that’s the Solarian word for it; but I don’t know your Galactic equivalent. You may not have one.”</p>
     <p>“And the films?” asked Bliss. “I take it those are film projectors?”</p>
     <p>“Diaries,” said Bander, “the history of their lives. Scenes of themselves in their favorite parts of the estate. It means they do not die in every sense. Part of them remains, and it is part of my freedom that I can join them whenever I choose; I can watch this bit of film or that, as I please.”</p>
     <p>“But not into the—shamiferous ones.”</p>
     <p>Bander’s eyes slithered away. “No,” it admitted, “but then we all have that as part of the ancestry. It is a common wretchedness.”</p>
     <p>“Common? Then other Solarians also have these death chambers?” asked Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Oh yes, we all do, but mine is the best, the most elaborate, the most perfectly preserved.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Do you have your own death chamber already prepared?”</p>
     <p>“Certainly. It is completely constructed and appointed. That was done as my first duty when I inherited the estate. And when I am laid to ash—to be poetic—my successor will go about the construction of its own as its first duty.”</p>
     <p>“And do you have a successor?”</p>
     <p>“I will have when the time comes. There is as yet ample scope for life. When I must leave, there will be an adult successor, ripe enough to enjoy the estate, and well lobed for power-transduction.”</p>
     <p>“It will be your offspring, I imagine.”</p>
     <p>“Oh yes.”</p>
     <p>“But what if,” said Trevize, “something untoward takes place? I presume accidents and misfortunes take place even on Solaria. What happens if a Solarian is laid to ash prematurely and it has no successor to take its place, or at least not one who is ripe enough to enjoy the estate?”</p>
     <p>“That rarely happens. In my line of ancestors, that happened only once. When it does, however, one need only remember that there are other successors waiting for other estates. Some of those are old enough to inherit, and yet have parents who are young enough to produce a second descendant and to live on till that second descendant is ripe enough for the succession. One of these old/young successors, as they are called, would be assigned to the succession of my estate.”</p>
     <p>“Who does the assigning?”</p>
     <p>“We have a ruling board that has this as one of its few functions—the assignment of a successor in case of premature ashing. It is all done by holovision, of course.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “But see here, if Solarians never see each other, how would anyone know that some Solarian somewhere has unexpectedly—or expectedly, for that matter—been laid to ash.”</p>
     <p>Bander said, “When one of us is laid to ash, all power at the estate ceases. If no successor takes over at once, the abnormal situation is eventually noticed and corrective measures are taken. I assure you that our social system works smoothly.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Would it be possible to view some of these films you have here?”</p>
     <p>Bander froze. Then it said, “It is only your ignorance that excuses you. What you have said is crude and obscene.”</p>
     <p>“I apologize for that,” said Trevize. “I do not wish to intrude on you, but we’ve already explained that we are very interested in obtaining information on Earth. It occurs to me that the earliest films you have would date back to a time before Earth was radioactive. Earth might therefore be mentioned. There might be details given about it. We certainly do not wish to intrude on your privacy, but would there be any way in which you yourself could explore those films, or have a robot do so, perhaps, and then allow any relevant information to be passed on to us? Of course, if you can respect our motives and understand that we will try our best to respect your feelings in return, you might allow us to do the viewing ourselves.”</p>
     <p>Bander said frigidly, “I imagine you have no way of knowing that you are becoming more and more offensive. However, we can end all this at once, for I can tell you that there are no films accompanying my early half-human ancestors.”</p>
     <p>“None?” Trevize’s disappointment was heartfelt.</p>
     <p>“They existed once. But even you can imagine what might have been on them. Two half-humans showing interest in each other or, even,” Bander cleared its throat, and said, with an effort, “interacting. Naturally, all half-human films were destroyed many generations ago.”</p>
     <p>“What about the records of other Solarians?”</p>
     <p>“All destroyed.”</p>
     <p>“Can you be sure?”</p>
     <p>“It would be mad not to destroy them.”</p>
     <p>“It might be that some Solarians <emphasis>were</emphasis> mad, or sentimental, or forgetful. We presume you will not object to directing us to neighboring estates.”</p>
     <p>Bander looked at Trevize in surprise. “Do you suppose others will be as tolerant of you as I have been?”</p>
     <p>“Why not, Bander?”</p>
     <p>“You’ll find they won’t be.”</p>
     <p>“It’s a chance we’ll have to take.”</p>
     <p>“No, Trevize. No, any of you. Listen to me.”</p>
     <p>There were robots in the background, and Bander was frowning.</p>
     <p>“What is it, Bander?” said Trevize, suddenly uneasy.</p>
     <p>Bander said, “I have enjoyed speaking to all of you, and observing you in all your—strangeness. It was a unique experience, which I have been delighted with, but I cannot record it in my diary, nor memorialize it in film.”</p>
     <p>“Why not?”</p>
     <p>“My speaking to you; my listening to you; my bringing you into my mansion; my bringing you here into the ancestral death chambers; are shameful acts.”</p>
     <p>“We are not Solarians. We matter to you as little as these robots do, do we not?”</p>
     <p>“I excuse the matter to myself in that way. It may not serve as an excuse to others.”</p>
     <p>“What do you care? You have absolute liberty to do as you choose, don’t you?”</p>
     <p>“Even as we are, freedom is not truly absolute. If I were the <emphasis>only</emphasis> Solarian on the planet, I could do even shameful things in absolute freedom. But there are other Solarians on the planet, and, because of that, ideal freedom, though approached, is not actually reached. There are twelve hundred Solarians on the planet who would despise me if they knew what I had done.”</p>
     <p>“There is no reason they need know about it.”</p>
     <p>“That is true. I have been aware of that since you’ve arrived. I’ve been aware of it all this time that I’ve been amusing myself with you. The others must not find out.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “If that means you fear complications as a result of our visits to other estates in search of information about Earth, why, naturally, we will mention nothing of having visited you first. That is clearly understood.”</p>
     <p>Bander shook its head. “I have taken enough chances. I will not speak of this, of course. My robots will not speak of this, and will even be instructed not to remember it. Your ship will be taken underground and explored for what information it can give us—”</p>
     <p>“Wait,” said Trevize, “how long do you suppose we can wait here while you inspect our ship? That is impossible.”</p>
     <p>“Not at all impossible, for you will have nothing to say about it. I am sorry. I would like to speak to you longer and to discuss many other things with you, but you see the matter grows more dangerous.”</p>
     <p>“No, it does not,” said Trevize emphatically.</p>
     <p>“Yes, it does, little half-human. I’m afraid the time has come when I must do what my ancestors would have done at once. I must kill you, all three.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>12</p>
     <p>TO THE SURFACE</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>51.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize turned his head at once to look at Bliss. Her face was expressionless, but taut, and her eyes were fixed on Bander with an intensity that made her seem oblivious to all else.</p>
     <p>Pelorat’s eyes were wide, disbelieving.</p>
     <p>Trevize, not knowing what Bliss would—or could—do, struggled to fight down an overwhelming sense of loss (not so much at the thought of dying, as of dying without knowing where Earth was, without knowing why he had chosen Gaia as humanity’s future). He had to play for time.</p>
     <p>He said, striving to keep his voice steady, and his words clear, “You have shown yourself a courteous and gentle Solarian, Bander. You have not grown angry at our intrusion into your world. You have been kind enough to show us over your estate and mansion, and you have answered our questions. It would suit your character better to allow us to leave now. No one need ever know we were on this world and we would have no cause to return. We arrived in all innocence, seeking merely information.”</p>
     <p>“What you say is so,” said Bander lightly, “and, so far, I have given you life. Your lives were forfeit the instant you entered our atmosphere. What I might have done—and should have done—on making close contact with you, would be to have killed you at once. I should then have ordered the appropriate robot to dissect your bodies for what information on Outworlders that might yield me.</p>
     <p>“I have not done that. I have pampered my own curiosity and given in to my own easygoing nature, but it is enough. I can do it no longer. I have, in fact, already compromised the safety of Solaria, for if, through some weakness, I were to let myself be persuaded to let you go, others of your kind would surely follow, however much you might promise that they would not.</p>
     <p>“There is, however, at least this. Your death will be painless. I will merely heat your brains mildly and drive them into inactivation. You will experience no pain. Life will merely cease. Eventually, when dissection and study are over, I will convert you to ashes in an intense flash of heat and all will be over.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “If we must die, then I cannot argue against a quick and painless death, but why must we die at all, having given no offense?”</p>
     <p>“Your arrival was an offense.”</p>
     <p>“Not on any rational ground, since we could not know it was an offense.”</p>
     <p>“Society defines what constitutes an offense. To you, it may seem irrational and arbitrary, but to us it is not, and this is our world on which we have the full right to say that in this and that, you have done wrong and deserve to die.”</p>
     <p>Bander smiled as though it were merely making pleasant conversation and went on, “Nor have you any right to complain on the ground of your own superior virtue. You have a blaster which uses a beam of microwaves to induce intense killing heat. It does what I intend to do, but does it, I am sure, much more crudely and painfully. You would have no hesitation in using it on me right now, had I not drained its energy, and if I were to be so foolish as to allow you the freedom of movement that would enable you to remove the weapon from its holster.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said despairingly, afraid even to glance again at Bliss, lest Bander’s attention be diverted to her, “I ask you, as an act of mercy, not to do this.”</p>
     <p>Bander said, turning suddenly grim, “I must first be merciful to myself and to my world, and to do that, you must die.”</p>
     <p>He raised his hand and instantly darkness descended upon Trevize.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>52.</p>
     </title>
     <p>For a moment, Trevize felt the darkness choking him and thought wildly, Is this death?</p>
     <p>And as though his thoughts had given rise to an echo, he heard a whispered, “Is this death?” It was Pelorat’s voice.</p>
     <p>Trevize tried to whisper, and found he could. “Why ask?” he said, with a sense of vast relief. “The mere fact that you can ask shows it is not death.”</p>
     <p>“There are old legends that there is life after death.”</p>
     <p>“Nonsense,” muttered Trevize. “Bliss? Are you here, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>There was no answer to that.</p>
     <p>Again Pelorat echoed, “Bliss? Bliss? What happened, Golan?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Bander must be dead. He would, in that case, be unable to supply the power for his estate. The lights would go out.”</p>
     <p>“But how could—? You mean Bliss did it?”</p>
     <p>“I suppose so. I hope she did not come to harm in the process.” He was on his hands and knees crawling about in the total darkness of the underground (if one did not count the occasional subvisible flashing of a radioactive atom breaking down in the walls).</p>
     <p>Then his hand came on something warm and soft. He felt along it and recognized a leg, which he seized. It was clearly too small to be Bander’s. “Bliss?”</p>
     <p>The leg kicked out, forcing Trevize to let go.</p>
     <p>He said, “Bliss? Say something!”</p>
     <p>“I am alive,” came Bliss’s voice, curiously distorted.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “But are you well?”</p>
     <p>“No.” And, with that, light returned to their surroundings—weakly. The walls gleamed faintly, brightening and dimming erratically.</p>
     <p>Bander lay crumpled in a shadowy heap. At its side, holding its head, was Bliss.</p>
     <p>She looked up at Trevize and Pelorat. “The Solarian is dead,” she said, and her cheeks glistened with tears in the weak light.</p>
     <p>Trevize was dumbfounded. “Why are you crying?”</p>
     <p>“Should I not cry at having killed a living thing of thought and intelligence? That was not my intention.”</p>
     <p>Trevize leaned down to help her to her feet, but she pushed him away.</p>
     <p>Pelorat knelt in his turn, saying softly, “Please, Bliss, even you can’t bring it back to life. Tell us what happened.”</p>
     <p>She allowed herself to be pulled upward and said dully, “Gaia can do what Bander could do. Gaia can make use of the unevenly distributed energy of the Universe and translate it into chosen work by mental power alone.”</p>
     <p>“I knew that,” said Trevize, attempting to be soothing without quite knowing how to go about it. “I remember well our meeting in space when you—or Gaia, rather—held our spaceship captive. I thought of that when Bander held me captive after it had taken my weapons. It held you captive, too, but I was confident you could have broken free if you had wished.”</p>
     <p>“No. I would have failed if I had tried. When your ship was in my/our/Gaia’s grip,” she said sadly, “I and Gaia were truly one. Now there is a hyperspatial separation that limits my/our/Gaia’s efficiency. Besides, Gaia does what it does by the sheer power of massed brains. Even so, all those brains together lack the transducer-lobes this one Solarian has. We cannot make use of energy as delicately, as efficiently, as tirelessly as he could. —You see that I cannot make the lights gleam more brightly, and I don’t know how long I can make them gleam at all before tiring. Bander could supply the power for an entire vast estate, even when it was sleeping.”</p>
     <p>“But you stopped it,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Because it didn’t suspect my powers,” said Bliss, “and because I did nothing that would give it evidence of them. It was therefore without suspicion of me and gave me none of its attention. It concentrated entirely on you, Trevize, because it was you who bore the weapons—again, how well it has served that you armed yourself—and I had to wait my chance to stop Bander with one quick and unexpected blow. When it was on the point of killing us, when its whole mind was concentrated on that, and on you, I was able to strike.”</p>
     <p>“And it worked beautifully.”</p>
     <p>“How can you say something so cruel, Trevize? It was only my intention to stop it. I merely wished to block its use of its transducer. In the moment of surprise when it tried to blast us and found it could not, but found, instead, that the very illumination about us was fading into darkness, I would tighten my grip and send it into a prolonged normal sleep and release the transducer. The power would then remain on, and we could get out of this mansion, into our ship, and leave the planet. I hoped to so arrange things that, when Bander finally woke, it would have forgotten all that had happened from the instant of its sighting us. Gaia has no desire to kill in order to accomplish what can be brought about without killing.”</p>
     <p>“What went wrong, Bliss?” said Pelorat softly.</p>
     <p>“I had never encountered any such thing as those transducer-lobes and I lacked any time to work with them and learn about them. I merely struck out forcefully with my blocking maneuver and, apparently, it didn’t work correctly. It was not the entry of energy into the lobes that was blocked, but the exit of that energy. Energy is always pouring into those lobes at a reckless rate but, ordinarily, the brain safeguards itself by pouring out that energy just as quickly. Once I blocked the exit, however, energy piled up within the lobes at once and, in a tiny fraction of a second, the temperature had risen to the point where the brain protein inactivated explosively and it was dead. The lights went out and I removed my block immediately, but, of course, it was too late.”</p>
     <p>“I don’t see that you could have done anything other than that which you did, dear,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Of what comfort is that, considering that I have killed.”</p>
     <p>“Bander was on the point of killing us,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“That was cause for stopping it, not for killing it.”</p>
     <p>Trevize hesitated. He did not wish to show the impatience he felt for he was unwilling to offend or further upset Bliss, who was, after all, their only defense against a supremely hostile world.</p>
     <p>He said, “Bliss, it is time to look beyond Bander’s death. Because it is dead, all power on the estate is blanked out. This will be noticed, sooner or later, probably sooner, by other Solarians. They will be forced to investigate. I don’t think you will be able to hold off the perhaps combined attack of several. And, as you have admitted yourself, you won’t be able to supply for very long the limited power you are managing to supply now. It is important, therefore, that we get back to the surface, and to our ship, without delay.”</p>
     <p>“But, Golan,” said Pelorat, “how do we do that? We came for many kilometers along a winding path. I imagine it’s quite a maze down here and, for myself, I haven’t the faintest idea of where to go to reach the surface. I’ve always had a poor sense of direction.”</p>
     <p>Trevize, looking about, realized that Pelorat was correct. He said, “I imagine there are many openings to the surface, and we needn’t find the one we entered.”</p>
     <p>“But we don’t know where any of the openings are. How do we find them?”</p>
     <p>Trevize turned again to Bliss. “Can you detect anything, mentally, that will help us find our way out?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “The robots on this estate are all inactive. I can detect a thin whisper of subintelligent life straight up, but all that tells us is that the surface is straight up, which we know.”</p>
     <p>“Well, then,” said Trevize, “we’ll just have to look for some opening.”</p>
     <p>“Hit-and-miss,” said Pelorat, appalled. “We’ll never succeed.”</p>
     <p>“We might, Janov,” said Trevize. “If we search, there will be a chance, however small. The alternative is simply to stay here, and if we do <emphasis>that</emphasis> then we will never succeed. Come, a small chance is better than none.”</p>
     <p>“Wait,” said Bliss. “I <emphasis>do</emphasis> sense something.”</p>
     <p>“What?” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“A mind.”</p>
     <p>“Intelligence?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, but limited, I think. What reaches me most clearly, though, is something else.”</p>
     <p>“What?” said Trevize, again fighting impatience.</p>
     <p>“Fright! Intolerable fright!” said Bliss, in a whisper.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>53.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize looked about ruefully. He knew where they had entered but he had no illusion on the score of being able to retrace the path by which they had come. He had, after all, paid little attention to the turnings and windings. Who would have thought they’d be in the position of having to retrace the route alone and without help, and with only a flickering, dim light to be guided by?</p>
     <p>He said, “Do you think you can activate the car, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “I’m sure I could, Trevize, but that doesn’t mean I can run it.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I think that Bander ran it mentally. I didn’t see it touch anything when it was moving.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said gently, “Yes, it did it mentally, Pel, but <emphasis>how</emphasis>, mentally? You might as well say that it did it by using the controls. Certainly, but if I don’t know the details of using the controls, that doesn’t help, does it?”</p>
     <p>“You might try,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“If I try, I’ll have to put my whole mind to it, and if I do that, then I doubt that I’ll be able to keep the lights on. The car will do us no good in the dark even if I learn how to control it.”</p>
     <p>“Then we must wander about on foot, I suppose?”</p>
     <p>“I’m afraid so.”</p>
     <p>Trevize peered at the thick and gloomy darkness that lay beyond the dim light in their immediate neighborhood. He saw nothing, heard nothing.</p>
     <p>He said, “Bliss, do you still sense this frightened mind?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, I do.”</p>
     <p>“Can you tell where it is? Can you guide us to it?”</p>
     <p>“The mental sense is a straight line. It is not refracted sensibly by ordinary matter, so I can tell it is coming from that direction.”</p>
     <p>She pointed to a spot on the dusky wall, and said, “But we can’t walk through the wall to it. The best we can do is follow the corridors and try to find our way in whatever direction will keep the sensation growing stronger. In short, we will have to play the game of hot-and-cold.”</p>
     <p>“Then let’s start right now.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat hung back. “Wait, Golan; are we sure we want to find this thing, whatever it is? If it is frightened, it may be that we will have reason to be frightened, too.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shook his head impatiently. “We have no choice, Janov. It’s a mind, frightened or not, and it may be willing to—or may be made to—direct us to the surface.”</p>
     <p>“And do we just leave Bander lying here?” said Pelorat uneasily.</p>
     <p>Trevize took his elbow. “Come, Janov. We have no choice in that, either. Eventually some Solarian will reactivate the place, and a robot will find Bander and take care of it—I hope not before we are safely away.”</p>
     <p>He allowed Bliss to lead the way. The light was always strongest in her immediate neighborhood and she paused at each doorway, at each fork in the corridor, trying to sense the direction from which the fright came. Sometimes she would walk through a door, or move around a curve, then come back and try an alternate path, while Trevize watched helplessly.</p>
     <p>Each time Bliss came to a decision and moved firmly in a particular direction, the light came on ahead of her. Trevize noticed that it seemed a bit brighter now—either because his eyes were adapting to the dimness, or because Bliss was learning how to handle the transduction more efficiently. At one point, when she passed one of the metal rods that were inserted into the ground, she put her hand on it and the lights brightened noticeably. She nodded her head as though she were pleased with herself.</p>
     <p>Nothing looked in the least familiar; it seemed certain they were wandering through portions of the rambling underground mansion they had not passed through on the way in.</p>
     <p>Trevize kept looking for corridors that led upward sharply, and he varied that by studying the ceilings for any sign of a trapdoor. Nothing of the sort appeared, and the frightened mind remained their only chance of getting out.</p>
     <p>They walked through silence, except for the sound of their own steps; through darkness, except for the light in their immediate vicinity; through death, except for their own lives. Occasionally, they made out the shadowy bulk of a robot, sitting or standing in the dusk, with no motion. Once they saw a robot lying on its side, with legs and arms in queer frozen positions. It had been caught off-balance, Trevize thought, at the moment when power had been turned off, and it had fallen. Bander, either alive or dead, could not affect the force of gravity. Perhaps all over the vast Bander estate, robots were standing and lying inactive and it would be that that would quickly be noted at the borders.</p>
     <p>Or perhaps not, he thought suddenly. Solarians would know when one of their number would be dying of old age and physical decay. The world would be alerted and ready. Bander, however, had died suddenly, without possible foreknowledge, in the prime of its existence. Who would know? Who would expect? Who would be watching for inactivation?</p>
     <p>But no (and Trevize thrust back optimism and consolation as dangerous lures into overconfidence). The Solarians would note the cessation of all activity on the Bander estate and take action at once. They all had too great an interest in the succession to estates to leave death to itself.</p>
     <p>Pelorat murmured unhappily, “Ventilation has stopped. A place like this, underground, must be ventilated, and Bander supplied the power. Now it has stopped.”</p>
     <p>“It doesn’t matter, Janov,” said Trevize. “We’ve got enough air down in this empty underground place to last us for years.”</p>
     <p>“It’s close just the same. It’s psychologically bad.”</p>
     <p>“Please, Janov, don’t get claustrophobic. —Bliss, are we any closer?”</p>
     <p>“Much, Trevize,” she replied. “The sensation is stronger and I am clearer as to its location.”</p>
     <p>She was stepping forward more surely, hesitating less at points of choice of direction.</p>
     <p>“There! There!” she said. “I can sense it intensely.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said dryly, “Even I can hear it now.”</p>
     <p>All three stopped and, automatically, held their breaths. They could hear a soft moaning, interspersed with gasping sobs.</p>
     <p>They walked into a large room and, as the lights went on, they saw that, unlike all those they had hitherto seen, it was rich and colorful in furnishings.</p>
     <p>In the center of the room was a robot, stooping slightly, its arms stretched out in what seemed an almost affectionate gesture and, of course, it was absolutely motionless.</p>
     <p>Behind the robot was a flutter of garments. A round frightened eye edged to one side of it, and there was still the sound of a brokenhearted sobbing.</p>
     <p>Trevize darted around the robot and, from the other side, a small figure shot out, shrieking. It stumbled, fell to the ground, and lay there, covering its eyes, kicking its legs in all directions, as though to ward off some threat from whatever angle it might approach, and shrieking, shrieking—</p>
     <p>Bliss said, quite unnecessarily, “It’s a child!”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>54.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize drew back, puzzled. What was a child doing here? Bander had been so proud of its absolute solitude, so insistent upon it.</p>
     <p>Pelorat, less apt to fall back on iron reasoning in the face of an obscure event, seized upon the solution at once, and said, “I suppose this is the successor.”</p>
     <p>“Bander’s child,” said Bliss, agreeing, “but too young, I think, to be a successor. The Solarians will have to find one elsewhere.”</p>
     <p>She was gazing at the child, not in a fixed glare, but in a soft, mesmerizing way, and slowly the noise the child was making lessened. It opened its eyes and looked at Bliss in return. Its outcry was reduced to an occasional soft whimper.</p>
     <p>Bliss made sounds of her own, now, soothing ones, broken words that made little sense in themselves but were meant only to reinforce the calming effect of her thoughts. It was as though she were mentally fingering the child’s unfamiliar mind and seeking to even out its disheveled emotions.</p>
     <p>Slowly, never taking its eyes off Bliss, the child got to its feet, stood there swaying a moment, then made a dash for the silent, frozen robot. It threw its arms about the sturdy robotic leg as though avid for the security of its touch.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I suppose that the robot is its—nursemaid—or caretaker. I suppose a Solarian can’t care for another Solarian, not even a parent for a child.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “And I suppose the child is hermaphroditic.”</p>
     <p>“It would have to be,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Bliss, still entirely preoccupied with the child, was approaching it slowly, hands held half upward, palms toward herself, as though emphasizing that there was no intention of seizing the small creature. The child was now silent, watching the approach, and holding on the more tightly to the robot.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “There, child—warm, child—soft, warm, comfortable, safe, child—safe—safe.”</p>
     <p>She stopped and, without looking round, said in a low voice, “Pel, speak to it in its language. Tell it we’re robots come to take care of it because the power failed.”</p>
     <p>“Robots!” said Pelorat, shocked.</p>
     <p>“We must be presented as robots. It’s not afraid of robots. And it’s never seen a human being, maybe can’t even conceive of them.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I don’t know if I can think of the right expression. I don’t know the archaic word for ‘robot.’?”</p>
     <p>“Say ‘robot,’ then, Pel. If that doesn’t work, say ‘iron thing.’ Say whatever you can.”</p>
     <p>Slowly, word by word, Pelorat spoke archaically. The child looked at him, frowning intensely, as though trying to understand.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “You might as well ask it how to get out, while you’re at it.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “No. Not yet. Confidence first, then information.”</p>
     <p>The child, looking now at Pelorat, slowly released its hold on the robot and spoke in a high-pitched musical voice.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said anxiously, “It’s speaking too quickly for me.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Ask it to repeat more slowly. I’m doing my best to calm it and remove its fears.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat, listening again to the child, said, “I think it’s asking what made Jemby stop. Jemby must be the robot.”</p>
     <p>“Check and make sure, Pel.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat spoke, then listened, and said, “Yes, Jemby is the robot. The child calls itself Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“Good!” Bliss smiled at the child, a luminous, happy smile, pointed to it, and said, “Fallom. Good Fallom. Brave Fallom.” She placed a hand on her chest and said, “Bliss.”</p>
     <p>The child smiled. It looked very attractive when it smiled. “Bliss,” it said, hissing the “s” a bit imperfectly.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Bliss, if you can activate the robot, Jemby, it might be able to tell us what we want to know. Pelorat can speak to it as easily as to the child.”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Bliss. “That would be wrong. The robot’s first duty is to protect the child. If it is activated and instantly becomes aware of us, aware of strange human beings, it may as instantly attack us. No strange human beings belong here. If I am then forced to inactivate it, it can give us no information, and the child, faced with a second inactivation of the only parent it knows— Well, I just won’t do it.”</p>
     <p>“But we were told,” said Pelorat mildly, “that robots can’t harm human beings.”</p>
     <p>“So we were,” said Bliss, “but we were not told what kind of robots these Solarians have designed. And even if this robot were designed to do no harm, it would have to make a choice between its child, or the nearest thing to a child it can have, and three objects whom it might not even recognize as human beings, merely as illegal intruders. Naturally, it would choose the child and attack us.”</p>
     <p>She turned to the child again. “Fallom,” she said, “Bliss.” She pointed, “Pel—Trev.”</p>
     <p>“Pel. Trev,” said the child obediently.</p>
     <p>She came closer to the child, her hands reaching toward it slowly. It watched her, then took a step backward.</p>
     <p>“Calm, Fallom,” said Bliss. “Good, Fallom. Touch, Fallom. Nice, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>It took a step toward her, and Bliss sighed. “Good, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>She touched Fallom’s bare arm, for it wore, as its parent had, only a long robe, open in front, and with a loincloth beneath. The touch was gentle. She removed her arm, waited, and made contact again, stroking softly.</p>
     <p>The child’s eyes half-closed under the strong, calming effect of Bliss’s mind.</p>
     <p>Bliss’s hands moved up slowly, softly, scarcely touching, to the child’s shoulders, its neck, its ears, then under its long brown hair to a point just above and behind its ears.</p>
     <p>Her hands dropped away then, and she said, “The transducer-lobes are still small. The cranial bone hasn’t developed yet. There’s just a tough layer of skin there, which will eventually expand outward and be fenced in with bone after the lobes have fully grown. —Which means it can’t, at the present time, control the estate or even activate its own personal robot. —Ask it how old it is, Pel.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, after an exchange, “It’s fourteen years old, if I understand it rightly.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “It looks more like eleven.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “The length of the years used on this world may not correspond closely to Standard Galactic Years. Besides, Spacers are supposed to have extended lifetimes and, if the Solarians are like the other Spacers in this, they may also have extended developmental periods. We can’t go by years, after all.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, with an impatient click of his tongue, “Enough anthropology. We must get to the surface and since we are dealing with a child, we may be wasting our time uselessly. It may not know the route to the surface. It may not ever have been on the surface.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Pel!”</p>
     <p>Pelorat knew what she meant and there followed the longest conversation he had yet had with Fallom.</p>
     <p>Finally, he said, “The child knows what the sun is. It says it’s seen it. I <emphasis>think</emphasis> it’s seen trees. It didn’t act as though it were sure what the word meant—or at least what the word <emphasis>I</emphasis> used meant—”</p>
     <p>“Yes, Janov,” said Trevize, “but do get to the point.”</p>
     <p>“I told Fallom that if it could get us out to the surface, that might make it possible for us to activate the robot. Actually, I said we <emphasis>would</emphasis> activate the robot. Do you suppose we might?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “We’ll worry about that later. Did it say it would guide us?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. I thought the child would be more anxious to do it, you see, if I made that promise. I suppose we’re running the risk of disappointing it—”</p>
     <p>“Come,” said Trevize, “let’s get started. All this will be academic if we are caught underground.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said something to the child, who began to walk, then stopped and looked back at Bliss.</p>
     <p>Bliss held out her hand and the two then walked hand in hand.</p>
     <p>“I’m the new robot,” she said, smiling slightly.</p>
     <p>“It seems reasonably happy over that,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Fallom skipped along and, briefly, Trevize wondered if it were happy simply because Bliss had labored to make it so, or if, added to that, there was the excitement of visiting the surface and of having three new robots, or whether it was excitement at the thought of having its Jemby foster-parent back. Not that it mattered—as long as the child led them.</p>
     <p>There seemed no hesitation in the child’s progress. It turned without pause whenever there was a choice of paths. Did it really know where it was going, or was it all simply a matter of a child’s indifference? Was it simply playing a game with no clear end in sight?</p>
     <p>But Trevize was aware, from the slight burden on his progress, that he was moving uphill, and the child, bouncing self-importantly forward, was pointing ahead and chattering.</p>
     <p>Trevize looked at Pelorat, who cleared his throat and said, “I <emphasis>think</emphasis> what it’s saying is ‘doorway.’?”</p>
     <p>“I hope your thought is correct,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>The child broke away from Bliss, and was running now. It pointed to a portion of the flooring that seemed darker than the sections immediately neighboring it. The child stepped on it, jumping up and down a few times, and then turned with a clear expression of dismay, and spoke with shrill volubility.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, with a grimace, “I’ll have to supply the power. —This is wearing me out.”</p>
     <p>Her face reddened a bit and the lights dimmed, but a door opened just ahead of Fallom, who laughed in soprano delight.</p>
     <p>The child ran out the door and the two men followed. Bliss came last, and looked back as the lights just inside darkened and the door closed. She then paused to catch her breath, looking rather worn out.</p>
     <p>“Well,” said Pelorat, “we’re out. Where’s the ship?”</p>
     <p>All of them stood bathed in the still luminous twilight.</p>
     <p>Trevize muttered, “It seems to me that it was in that direction.”</p>
     <p>“It seems so to me, too,” said Bliss. “Let’s walk,” and she held out her hand to Fallom.</p>
     <p>There was no sound except those produced by the wind and by the motions and calls of living animals. At one point they passed a robot standing motionless near the base of a tree, holding some object of uncertain purpose.</p>
     <p>Pelorat took a step toward it out of apparent curiosity, but Trevize said, “Not our business, Janov. Move on.”</p>
     <p>They passed another robot, at a greater distance, who had tumbled.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “There are robots littered over many kilometers in all directions, I suppose.” And then, triumphantly, “Ah, there’s the ship.”</p>
     <p>They hastened their steps now, then stopped suddenly. Fallom raised its voice in an excited squeak.</p>
     <p>On the ground near the ship was what appeared to be an air-vessel of primitive design, with a rotor that looked energy-wasteful, and fragile besides. Standing next to the air-vessel, and between the little party of Outworlders and their ship, stood four human figures.</p>
     <p>“Too late,” said Trevize. “We wasted too much time. Now what?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said wonderingly, “Four Solarians? It can’t be. Surely they wouldn’t come into physical contact like that. Do you suppose those are holo-images?”</p>
     <p>“They are thoroughly material,” said Bliss. “I’m sure of that. They’re not Solarians either. There’s no mistaking the minds. They’re robots.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>55.</p>
     </title>
     <p>“Well, then,” said Trevize wearily, “onward!” He resumed his walk toward the ship at a calm pace and the others followed.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, rather breathlessly, “What do you intend to do?”</p>
     <p>“If they’re robots, they’ve got to obey orders.”</p>
     <p>The robots were awaiting them, and Trevize watched them narrowly as they came closer.</p>
     <p>Yes, they must be robots. Their faces, which looked as though they were made of skin underlain with flesh, were curiously expressionless. They were dressed in uniforms that exposed no square centimeter of skin outside the face. Even the hands were covered by thin, opaque gloves.</p>
     <p>Trevize gestured casually, in a fashion that was unquestionably a brusque request that they step aside.</p>
     <p>The robots did not move.</p>
     <p>In a low voice, Trevize said to Pelorat, “Put it into words, Janov. Be firm.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat cleared his throat and, putting an unaccustomed baritone into his voice, spoke slowly, gesturing them aside much as Trevize had done. At that, one of the robots, who was perhaps a shade taller than the rest, said something in a cold and incisive voice.</p>
     <p>Pelorat turned to Trevize. “I think he said we were Outworlders.”</p>
     <p>“Tell him we are human beings and must be obeyed.”</p>
     <p>The robot spoke then, in peculiar but understandable Galactic. “I understand you, Outworlder. I speak Galactic. We are Guardian Robots.”</p>
     <p>“Then you have heard me say that we are human beings and that you must therefore obey us.”</p>
     <p>“We are programmed to obey Rulers only, Outworlder. You are not Rulers and not Solarian. Ruler Bander has not responded to the normal moment of Contact and we have come to investigate at close quarters. It is our duty to do so. We find a spaceship not of Solarian manufacture, several Outworlders present, and all Bander robots inactivated. Where is Ruler Bander?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shook his head and said slowly and distinctly, “We know nothing of what you say. Our ship’s computer is not working well. We found ourselves near this strange planet against our intentions. We landed to find our location. We found all robots inactivated. We know nothing of what might have happened.”</p>
     <p>“That is not a credible account. If all robots on the estate are inactivated and all power is off, Ruler Bander must be dead. It is not logical to suppose that by coincidence it died just as you landed. There must be some sort of causal connection.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, with no set purpose but to confuse the issue and to indicate his own foreigner’s lack of understanding and, therefore, his innocence, “But the power is not off. You and the others are active.”</p>
     <p>The robot said, “We are Guardian Robots. We do not belong to any Ruler. We belong to all the world. We are not Ruler-controlled but are nuclear-powered. I ask again, where is Ruler Bander?”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked about him. Pelorat appeared anxious; Bliss was tight-lipped but calm. Fallom was trembling, but Bliss’s hand touched the child’s shoulder and it stiffened somewhat and lost facial expression. (Was Bliss sedating it?)</p>
     <p>The robot said, “Once again, and for the last time, where is Ruler Bander?”</p>
     <p>“I do not know,” said Trevize grimly.</p>
     <p>The robot nodded and two of his companions left quickly. The robot said, “My fellow Guardians will search the mansion. Meanwhile, you will be held for questioning. Hand me those objects you wear at your side.”</p>
     <p>Trevize took a step backward. “They are harmless.”</p>
     <p>“Do not move again. I do not question their nature, whether harmful or harmless. I ask for them.”</p>
     <p>“No.”</p>
     <p>The robot took a quick step forward, and his arm flashed out too quickly for Trevize to realize what was happening. The robot’s hand was on his shoulder; the grip tightened and pushed downward. Trevize went to his knees.</p>
     <p>The robot said, “Those objects.” It held out its other hand.</p>
     <p>“No,” gasped Trevize.</p>
     <p>Bliss lunged forward, pulled the blaster out of its holster before Trevize, clamped in the robot’s grip, could do anything to prevent her, and held it out toward the robot. “Here, Guardian,” she said, “and if you’ll give me a moment—here’s the other. Now release my companion.”</p>
     <p>The robot, holding both weapons, stepped back, and Trevize rose slowly to his feet, rubbing his left shoulder vigorously, face wincing with pain.</p>
     <p>(Fallom whimpered softly, and Pelorat picked it up in distraction, and held it tightly.)</p>
     <p>Bliss said to Trevize, in a furious whisper, “Why are you fighting him? He can kill you with two fingers.”</p>
     <p>Trevize groaned and said, between gritted teeth, “Why don’t <emphasis>you</emphasis> handle him?”</p>
     <p>“I’m trying to. It takes time. His mind is tight, intensely programmed, and leaves no handle. I must study it. You play for time.”</p>
     <p>“Don’t study his mind. Just destroy it,” said Trevize, almost soundlessly.</p>
     <p>Bliss looked quickly toward the robot. It was studying the weapons intently, while the one other robot that still remained with it watched the Outworlders. Neither seemed interested in the whispering that was going on between Trevize and Bliss.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “No. No destruction. We killed one dog and hurt another on the first world. You know what happened on this world.” (Another quick glance at the Guardian Robots.) “Gaia does not needlessly butcher life or intelligence. I need time to work it out peacefully.”</p>
     <p>She stepped back and stared at the robot fixedly.</p>
     <p>The robot said, “These are weapons.”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Yes,” said Bliss, “but they are no longer useful. They are drained of energy.”</p>
     <p>“Is that indeed so? Why should you carry weapons that are drained of energy? Perhaps they are not drained.” The robot held one of the weapons in its fist and placed its thumb accurately. “Is this the way it is activated?”</p>
     <p>“Yes,” said Bliss; “if you tighten the pressure, it would be activated, if it contained energy—but it does not.”</p>
     <p>“Is that certain?” The robot pointed the weapon at Trevize. “Do you still say that if I activate it now, it will not work?”</p>
     <p>“It will not work,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>Trevize was frozen in place and unable to articulate. He had tested the blaster after Bander had drained it and it was totally dead, but the robot was holding the neuronic whip. Trevize had not tested that.</p>
     <p>If the whip contained even a small residue of energy, there would be enough for a stimulation of the pain nerves, and what Trevize would feel would make the grip of the robot’s hand seem to have been a pat of affection.</p>
     <p>When he had been at the Naval Academy, Trevize had been forced to take a mild neuronic whipblow, as all cadets had had to. That was just to know what it was like. Trevize felt no need to know anything more.</p>
     <p>The robot activated the weapon and, for a moment, Trevize stiffened painfully—and then slowly relaxed. The whip, too, was thoroughly drained.</p>
     <p>The robot stared at Trevize and then tossed both weapons to one side. “How do these come to be drained of energy?” it demanded. “If they are of no use, why do you carry them?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I am accustomed to the weight and carry them even when drained.”</p>
     <p>The robot said, “That does not make sense. You are all under custody. You will be held for further questioning, and, if the Rulers so decide, you will then be inactivated. —How does one open this ship? We must search it.”</p>
     <p>“It will do you no good,” said Trevize. “You won’t understand it.”</p>
     <p>“If not I, the Rulers will understand.”</p>
     <p>“They will not understand, either.”</p>
     <p>“Then you will explain so that they will understand.”</p>
     <p>“I will not.”</p>
     <p>“Then you will be inactivated.”</p>
     <p>“My inactivation will give you no explanation, and I think I will be inactivated even if I explain.”</p>
     <p>Bliss muttered, “Keep it up. I’m beginning to unravel the workings of its brain.”</p>
     <p>The robot ignored Bliss. (Did she see to that? thought Trevize, and hoped savagely that she had.)</p>
     <p>Keeping its attention firmly on Trevize, the robot said, “If you make difficulties, then we will partially inactivate you. We will damage you and you will then tell us what we want to know.”</p>
     <p>Suddenly, Pelorat called out in a half-strangled cry. “Wait, you cannot do this. —Guardian, you cannot do this.”</p>
     <p>“I am under detailed instructions,” said the robot quietly. “I can do this. Of course, I shall do as little damage as is consistent with obtaining information.”</p>
     <p>“But you cannot. Not at all. I am an Outworlder, and so are these two companions of mine. But this child,” and Pelorat looked at Fallom, whom he was still carrying, “is a Solarian. It will tell you what to do and you must obey it.”</p>
     <p>Fallom looked at Pelorat with eyes that were open, but seemed empty.</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head, sharply, but Pelorat looked at her without any sign of understanding.</p>
     <p>The robot’s eyes rested briefly on Fallom. It said, “The child is of no importance. It does not have transducer-lobes.”</p>
     <p>“It does not yet have fully developed transducer-lobes,” said Pelorat, panting, “but it will have them in time. It is a Solarian child.”</p>
     <p>“It is a child, but without fully developed transducer-lobes it is not a Solarian. I am not compelled to follow its orders or to keep it from harm.”</p>
     <p>“But it is the offspring of Ruler Bander.”</p>
     <p>“Is it? How do you come to know that?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat stuttered, as he sometimes did when over-earnest. “Wh—what other child would be on this estate?”</p>
     <p>“How do you know there aren’t a dozen?”</p>
     <p>“Have you seen any others?”</p>
     <p>“It is I who will ask the questions.”</p>
     <p>At this moment, the robot’s attention shifted as the second robot touched its arm. The two robots who had been sent to the mansion were returning at a rapid run that, nevertheless, had a certain irregularity to it.</p>
     <p>There was silence till they arrived and then one of them spoke in the Solarian language—at which all four of the robots seemed to lose their elasticity. For a moment, they appeared to wither, almost to deflate.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “They’ve found Bander,” before Trevize could wave him silent.</p>
     <p>The robot turned slowly and said, in a voice that slurred the syllables, “Ruler Bander is dead. By the remark you have just made, you show us you were aware of the fact. How did that come to be?”</p>
     <p>“How can I know?” said Trevize defiantly.</p>
     <p>“You knew it was dead. You knew it was there to be found. How could you know that, unless you had been there—unless it was you that had ended the life?” The robot’s enunciation was already improving. It had endured and was absorbing the shock.</p>
     <p>Then Trevize said, “How could we have killed Bander? With its transducer-lobes it could have destroyed us in a moment.”</p>
     <p>“How do you know what, or what not, transducer-lobes could do?”</p>
     <p>“You mentioned the transducer-lobes just now.”</p>
     <p>“I did no more than mention them. I did not describe their properties or abilities.”</p>
     <p>“The knowledge came to us in a dream.”</p>
     <p>“That is not a credible answer.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “To suppose that we have caused the death of Bander is not credible, either.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat added, “And in any case, if Ruler Bander is dead, then Ruler Fallom now controls this estate. Here the Ruler is, and it is it whom you must obey.”</p>
     <p>“I have already explained,” said the robot, “that an offspring with undeveloped transducer-lobes is not a Solarian. It cannot be a Successor, therefore. Another Successor, of the appropriate age, will be flown in as soon as we report this sad news.”</p>
     <p>“What of Ruler Fallom?”</p>
     <p>“There is no Ruler Fallom. There is only a child and we have an excess of children. It will be destroyed.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said forcefully, “You dare not. It is a child!”</p>
     <p>“It is not I,” said the robot, “who will necessarily do the act and it is certainly not I who will make the decision. That is for the consensus of the Rulers. In times of child-excess, however, I know well what the decision will be.”</p>
     <p>“No. I say no.”</p>
     <p>“It will be painless. —But another ship is coming. It is important that we go into what was the Bander mansion and set up a holovision Council that will supply a Successor and decide on what to do with you. —Give me the child.”</p>
     <p>Bliss snatched the semicomatose figure of Fallom from Pelorat. Holding it tightly and trying to balance its weight on her shoulder, she said, “Do not touch this child.”</p>
     <p>Once again, the robot’s arm shot out swiftly and it stepped forward, reaching for Fallom. Bliss moved quickly to one side, beginning her motion well before the robot had begun its own. The robot continued to move forward, however, as though Bliss were still standing before it. Curving stiffly downward, with the forward tips of its feet as the pivot, it went down on its face. The other three stood motionless, eyes unfocused.</p>
     <p>Bliss was sobbing, partly with rage. “I almost had the proper method of control, and it wouldn’t give me the time. I had no choice but to strike and now all four are inactivated. —Let’s get on the ship before the other ship lands. I am too ill to face additional robots, now.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
  </section>
  <section>
   <title>
    <p>PART V</p>
    <p>MELPOMENIA</p>
   </title>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>13</p>
     <p>AWAY FROM SOLARIA</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>56.</p>
     </title>
     <p>The leaving was a blur. Trevize had gathered up his futile weapons, had opened the airlock, and they had tumbled in. Trevize didn’t notice until they were off the surface that Fallom had been brought in as well.</p>
     <p>They probably would not have made it in time if the Solarian use of air-flight had not been so comparatively unsophisticated. It took the approaching Solarian vessel an unconscionable time to descend and land. On the other hand, it took virtually no time for the computer of the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> to take the gravitic ship vertically upward.</p>
     <p>And although the cut-off of the gravitational interaction and, therefore, of inertia wiped out the otherwise unbearable effects of acceleration that would have accompanied so speedy a takeoff, it did not wipe out the effects of air resistance. The outer hull temperature rose at a distinctly more rapid rate than navy regulations (or ship specifications, for that matter) would have considered suitable.</p>
     <p>As they rose, they could see the second Solarian ship land and several more approaching. Trevize wondered how many robots Bliss could have handled, and decided they would have been overwhelmed if they had remained on the surface fifteen minutes longer.</p>
     <p>Once out in space (or space enough, with only tenuous wisps of the planetary exosphere around them), Trevize made for the nightside of the planet. It was a hop away, since they had left the surface as sunset was approaching. In the dark, the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> would have a chance to cool more rapidly, and there the ship could continue to recede from the surface in a slow spiral.</p>
     <p>Pelorat came out of the room he shared with Bliss. He said, “The child is sleeping normally now. We’ve showed it how to use the toilet and it had no trouble understanding.”</p>
     <p>“That’s not surprising. It must have had similar facilities in the mansion.”</p>
     <p>“I didn’t see any there and I was looking,” said Pelorat feelingly. “We didn’t get back on the ship a moment too soon for me.”</p>
     <p>“Or any of us. But why did we bring that child on board?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shrugged apologetically. “Bliss wouldn’t let go. It was like saving a life in return for the one she took. She can’t bear—”</p>
     <p>“I know,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “It’s a very oddly shaped child.”</p>
     <p>“Being hermaphroditic, it would have to be,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“It has testicles, you know.”</p>
     <p>“It could scarcely do without them.”</p>
     <p>“And what I can only describe as a very small vagina.”</p>
     <p>Trevize made a face. “Disgusting.”</p>
     <p>“Not really, Golan,” said Pelorat, protesting. “It’s adapted to its needs. It only delivers a fertilized egg-cell, or a very tiny embryo, which is then developed under laboratory conditions, tended, I dare say, by robots.”</p>
     <p>“And what happens if their robot-system breaks down? If that happens, they would no longer be able to produce viable young.”</p>
     <p>“Any world would be in serious trouble if its social structure broke down completely.”</p>
     <p>“Not that I would weep uncontrollably over the Solarians.”</p>
     <p>“Well,” said Pelorat, “I admit it doesn’t seem a very attractive world—to us, I mean. But that’s only the people and the social structure, which are not our type at all, dear chap. But subtract the people and the robots, and you have a world which otherwise—”</p>
     <p>“Might fall apart as Aurora is beginning to do,” said Trevize. “How’s Bliss, Janov?”</p>
     <p>“Worn out, I’m afraid. She’s sleeping now. She had a <emphasis>very</emphasis> bad time, Golan.”</p>
     <p>“I didn’t exactly enjoy myself either.”</p>
     <p>Trevize closed his eyes, and decided he could use some sleep himself and would indulge in that relief as soon as he was reasonably certain the Solarians had no space capability—and so far the computer had reported nothing of artifactitious nature in space.</p>
     <p>He thought bitterly of the two Spacer planets they had visited—hostile wild dogs on one—hostile hermaphroditic loners on the other—and in neither place the tiniest hint as to the location of Earth. All they had to show for the double visit was Fallom.</p>
     <p>He opened his eyes. Pelorat was still sitting in place at the other side of the computer, watching him solemnly.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, with sudden conviction, “We should have left that Solarian child behind.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “The poor thing. They would have killed it.”</p>
     <p>“Even so,” said Trevize, “it belonged there. It’s part of that society. Being put to death because of being superfluous is the sort of thing it’s born to.”</p>
     <p>“Oh, my dear fellow, that’s a hardhearted way to look at it.”</p>
     <p>“It’s a <emphasis>rational</emphasis> way. We don’t know how to care for it, and it may suffer more lingeringly with us and die anyway. What does it eat?”</p>
     <p>“Whatever we do, I suppose, old man. Actually, the problem is what do <emphasis>we</emphasis> eat? How much do we have in the way of supplies?”</p>
     <p>“Plenty. Plenty. Even allowing for our new passenger.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat didn’t look overwhelmed with happiness at this remark. He said, “It’s become a pretty monotonous diet. We should have taken some items on board on Comporellon—not that their cooking was excellent.”</p>
     <p>“We couldn’t. We left, if you remember, rather hurriedly, as we left Aurora, and as we left, in particular, Solaria. —But what’s a little monotony? It spoils one’s pleasure, but it keeps one alive.”</p>
     <p>“Would it be possible to pick up fresh supplies if we need to?”</p>
     <p>“Anytime, Janov. With a gravitic ship and hyperspatial engines, the Galaxy is a small place. In days, we can be anywhere. It’s just that half the worlds in the Galaxy are alerted to watch for our ship and I would rather stay out of the way for a time.”</p>
     <p>“I suppose that’s so. —Bander didn’t seem interested in the ship.”</p>
     <p>“It probably wasn’t even consciously aware of it. I suspect that the Solarians long ago gave up space flight. Their prime desire is to be left completely alone and they can scarcely enjoy the security of isolation if they are forever moving about in space and advertising their presence.”</p>
     <p>“What are we going to do next, Golan?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “We have a third world to visit.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shook his head. “Judging from the first two, I don’t expect much from that.”</p>
     <p>“Nor do I at the moment, but just as soon as I get a little sleep, I’m going to get the computer to plot our course to that third world.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>57.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize slept considerably longer than he had expected to, but that scarcely mattered. There was neither day nor night, in any natural sense, on board ship, and the circadian rhythm never worked absolutely perfectly. The hours were what they were made to be, and it wasn’t uncommon for Trevize and Pelorat (and particularly Bliss) to be somewhat out-of-sync as far as the natural rhythms of eating and sleeping were concerned.</p>
     <p>Trevize even speculated, in the course of his scrape-down (the importance of conserving water made it advisable to scrape off the suds rather than rinse them off), about sleeping another hour or two, when he turned and found himself staring at Fallom, who was as undressed as he was.</p>
     <p>He could not help jumping back, which, in the restricted area of the Personal, was bound to bring part of his body against something hard. He grunted.</p>
     <p>Fallom was staring curiously at him and was pointing at Trevize’s penis. What it said was incomprehensible but the whole bearing of the child seemed to bespeak a sense of disbelief. For his own peace of mind, Trevize had no choice but to put his hands over his penis.</p>
     <p>Then Fallom said, in its high-pitched voice, “Greetings.”</p>
     <p>Trevize started slightly at the child’s unexpected use of Galactic, but the word had the sound of having been memorized.</p>
     <p>Fallom continued, a painstaking word at a time, “Bliss—say—you—wash—me.”</p>
     <p>“Yes?” said Trevize. He put his hands on Fallom’s shoulders. “You—stay—here.”</p>
     <p>He pointed downward at the floor and Fallom, of course, looked instantly at the place to which the finger pointed. It showed no comprehension of the phrase at all.</p>
     <p>“Don’t move,” said Trevize, holding the child tightly by both arms, pressing them toward the body as though to symbolize immobility. He hastily dried himself and put on his shorts, and over them his trousers.</p>
     <p>He stepped out and roared, “Bliss!”</p>
     <p>It was difficult for anyone to be more than four meters from any one else on the ship and Bliss came to the door of her room at once. She said, smiling, “Are you calling me, Trevize, or was that the soft breeze sighing through the waving grass?”</p>
     <p>“Let’s not be funny, Bliss. What is that?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.</p>
     <p>Bliss looked past him and said, “Well, it looks like the young Solarian we brought on board yesterday.”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>You</emphasis> brought on board. Why do you want me to wash it?”</p>
     <p>“I should think you’d want to. It’s a very bright creature. It’s picking up Galactic words quickly. It never forgets once I explain something. Of course, I’m helping it do so.”</p>
     <p>“Naturally.”</p>
     <p>“Yes. I keep it calm. I kept it in a daze during most of the disturbing events on the planet. I saw to it that it slept on board ship and I’m trying to divert its mind just a little bit from its lost robot, Jemby, that, apparently, it loved very much.”</p>
     <p>“So that it ends up liking it here, I suppose.”</p>
     <p>“I hope so. It’s adaptable because it’s young, and I encourage that by as much as I dare influence its mind. I’m going to teach it to speak Galactic.”</p>
     <p>“Then <emphasis>you</emphasis> wash it. Understood?”</p>
     <p>Bliss shrugged. “I will, if you insist, but I would want it to feel friendly with each of us. It would be useful to have each of us perform parental functions. Surely you can co-operate in that.”</p>
     <p>“Not to this extent. And when you finish washing it, get rid of it. I want to talk to you.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, with a sudden edge of hostility, “How do you mean, get rid of it?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t mean dump it through the airlock. I mean, put it in your room. Sit it down in a corner. I want to talk at you.”</p>
     <p>“I’ll be at your service,” she said coldly.</p>
     <p>He stared after her, nursing his wrath for the moment, then moved into the pilot-room, and activated the viewscreen.</p>
     <p>Solaria was a dark circle with a curving crescent of light at the left. Trevize placed his hands on the desk to make contact with the computer and found his anger cooling at once. One had to be calm to link mind and computer effectively and, eventually, conditioned reflex linked handhold and serenity.</p>
     <p>There were no artifactitious objects about the ship in any direction, out as far as the planet itself. The Solarians (or their robots, most likely) could not, or would not, follow.</p>
     <p>Good enough. He might as well get out of the night-shadow, then. If he continued to recede, it would, in any case, vanish as Solaria’s disc grew smaller than that of the more distant, but much larger, sun that it circled.</p>
     <p>He set the computer to move the ship out of the planetary plane as well, since that would make it possible to accelerate with greater safety. They would then more quickly reach a region where space curvature would be low enough to make the Jump secure.</p>
     <p>And, as often on such occasions, he fell to studying the stars. They were almost hypnotic in their quiet changelessness. All their turbulence and instability were wiped out by the distance that left them only dots of light.</p>
     <p>One of those dots might well be the sun about which Earth revolved—the original sun, under whose radiation life began, and under whose beneficence humanity evolved.</p>
     <p>Surely, if the Spacer worlds circled stars that were bright and prominent members of the stellar family, and that were nevertheless unlisted in the computer’s Galactic map, the same might be true of <emphasis>the</emphasis> sun.</p>
     <p>Or was it only the suns of the Spacer worlds that were omitted because of some primeval treaty agreement that left them to themselves? Would Earth’s sun be included in the Galactic map, but not marked off from the myriads of stars that were sunlike, yet had no habitable planet in orbit about itself?</p>
     <p>There were after all, some thirty billion sunlike stars in the Galaxy, and only about one in a thousand had habitable planets in orbits about them. There might be a thousand such habitable planets within a few hundred parsecs of his present position. Should he sift through the sunlike stars one by one, searching for them?</p>
     <p>Or was the original sun not even in this region of the Galaxy? How many other regions were convinced the sun was one of <emphasis>their</emphasis> neighbors, that <emphasis>they</emphasis> were primeval Settlers—?</p>
     <p>He needed information, and so far he had none.</p>
     <p>He doubted strongly whether even the closest examination of the millennial ruins on Aurora would give information concerning Earth’s location. He doubted even more strongly that the Solarians could be made to yield information.</p>
     <p>Then, too, if all information about Earth had vanished out of the great Library at Trantor; if no information about Earth remained in the great Collective Memory of Gaia; there seemed little chance that any information that might have existed on the lost worlds of the Spacers would have been overlooked.</p>
     <p>And if he found Earth’s sun and, then, Earth itself, by the sheerest good fortune—would something force him to be unaware of the fact? Was Earth’s defense absolute? Was its determination to remain in hiding unbreakable?</p>
     <p>What was he looking for anyway?</p>
     <p>Was it Earth? Or was it the flaw in Seldon’s Plan that he thought (for no clear reason) he might find on Earth?</p>
     <p>Seldon’s Plan had been working for five centuries now, and would bring the human species (so it was said) to safe harbor at last in the womb of a Second Galactic Empire, greater than the First, a nobler and a freer one—and yet he, Trevize, had voted against it, and for Galaxia.</p>
     <p>Galaxia would be one large organism, while the Second Galactic Empire would, however great in size and variety, be a mere union of individual organisms of microscopic size in comparison with itself. The Second Galactic Empire would be another example of the kind of union of individuals that humanity had set up ever since it became humanity. The Second Galactic Empire might be the largest and best of the species, but it would still be but one more member of that species.</p>
     <p>For Galaxia, a member of an entirely different species of organization, to be better than the Second Galactic Empire, there must be a flaw in the Plan, something the great Hari Seldon had himself overlooked.</p>
     <p>But if it were something Seldon had overlooked, how could Trevize correct the matter? He was not a mathematician; knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about the details of the Plan; would understand nothing, furthermore, even if it were explained to him.</p>
     <p>All he knew were the assumptions—that a great number of human beings be involved and that they not be aware of the conclusions reached. The first assumption was self-evidently true, considering the vast population of the Galaxy, and the second had to be true since only the Second Foundationers knew the details of the Plan, and they kept it to themselves securely enough.</p>
     <p>That left an added unacknowledge assumption, a taken-for-granted assumption, one so taken for granted it was never mentioned nor thought of—and yet one that might be false. An assumption that, if it <emphasis>were</emphasis> false, would alter the grand conclusion of the Plan and make Galaxia preferable to Empire.</p>
     <p>But if the assumption was so obvious and so taken for granted that it was never even expressed, how could it be false? And if no one ever mentioned it, or thought of it, how could Trevize know it was there, or have any idea of its nature even if he guessed its existence?</p>
     <p>Was he truly Trevize, the man with the flawless intuition—as Gaia insisted? Did he know the right thing to do even when he didn’t know why he was doing it?</p>
     <p>Now he was visiting every Spacer world he knew about. —Was that the right thing to do? Did the Spacer worlds hold the answer? Or at least the beginning of the answer?</p>
     <p>What was there on Aurora but ruins and wild dogs? (And, presumably, other feral creatures. Raging bulls? Overgrown rats? Stalking green-eyed cats?) Solaria was alive, but what was there on it but robots and energy-transducing human beings? What had either world to do with Seldon’s Plan unless they contained the secret of the location of the Earth?</p>
     <p>And if they did, what had <emphasis>Earth</emphasis> to do with Seldon’s Plan? Was this all madness? Had he listened too long and too seriously to the fantasy of his own infallibility?</p>
     <p>An overwhelming weight of shame came over him and seemed to press upon him to the point where he could barely breathe. He looked at the stars—remote, uncaring—and thought: I must be the Great Fool of the Galaxy.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>58.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Bliss’s voice broke in on him. “Well, Trevize, why do you want to see— Is anything wrong?” Her voice had twisted into sudden concern.</p>
     <p>Trevize looked up and, for a moment, found it momentarily difficult to brush away his mood. He stared at her, then said, “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I—I was merely lost in thought. Every once in a while, after all, I find myself thinking.”</p>
     <p>He was uneasily aware that Bliss could read his emotions. He had only her word that she was voluntarily abstaining from any oversight of his mind.</p>
     <p>She seemed to accept his statement, however. She said, “Pelorat is with Fallom, teaching it Galactic phrases. The child seems to eat what we do without undue objection. —But what do you want to see me about?”</p>
     <p>“Well, not here,” said Trevize. “The computer doesn’t need me at the moment. If you want to come into my room, the bed’s made and you can sit on it while I sit on the chair. Or vice versa, if you prefer.”</p>
     <p>“It doesn’t matter.” They walked the short distance to Trevize’s room. She eyed him narrowly. “You don’t seem furious anymore.”</p>
     <p>“Checking my mind?”</p>
     <p>“Not at all. Checking your face.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not furious. I may lose my temper momentarily, now and then, but that’s not the same as furious. If you don’t mind, though, there are questions I must ask you.”</p>
     <p>Bliss sat down on Trevize’s bed, holding herself erect, and with a solemn expression on her wide-cheeked face and in her dark brown eyes. Her shoulder-length black hair was neatly arranged and her slim hands were clasped loosely in her lap. There was a faint trace of perfume about her.</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled. “You’ve dolled yourself up. I suspect you think I won’t yell quite so hard at a young and pretty girl.”</p>
     <p>“You can yell and scream all you wish if it will make you feel better. I just don’t want you yelling and screaming at Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“I don’t intend to. In fact, I don’t intend to yell and scream at you. Haven’t we decided to be friends?”</p>
     <p>“Gaia has never had anything but feelings of friendship toward you, Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not talking about Gaia. I know you’re part of Gaia and that you <emphasis>are</emphasis> Gaia. Still there’s part of you that’s an individual, at least after a fashion. I’m talking to the individual. I’m talking to someone named Bliss without regard—or with as little regard as possible—to Gaia. Haven’t we decided to be friends, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“Then how is it you delayed dealing with the robots on Solaria after we had left the mansion and reached the ship? I was humiliated and physically hurt, yet you did nothing. Even though every moment might bring additional robots to the scene and the number might overwhelm us, you did nothing.”</p>
     <p>Bliss looked at him seriously, and spoke as though she were intent on explaining her actions rather than defending them. “I was not doing nothing, Trevize. I was studying the Guardian Robots’ minds, and trying to learn how to handle them.”</p>
     <p>“I know that’s what you were doing. At least you said you were at the time. I just don’t see the sense of it. Why handle the minds when you were perfectly capable of destroying them—as you finally did?”</p>
     <p>“Do you think it so easy to destroy an intelligent being?”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s lips twisted into an expression of distaste. “Come, Bliss. An intelligent <emphasis>being</emphasis>? It was just a robot.”</p>
     <p>“Just a robot?” A little passion entered her voice. “That’s the argument always. Just. Just! Why should the Solarian, Bander, have hesitated to kill us? We were just human beings without transducers. Why should there be any hesitation about leaving Fallom to its fate? It was just a Solarian, and an immature specimen at that. If you start dismissing anyone or anything you want to do away with as just a this or just a that, you can destroy anything you wish. There are always categories you can find for them.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Don’t carry a perfectly legitimate remark to extremes just to make it seem ridiculous. The robot was just a robot. You can’t deny that. It was not human. It was not intelligent in our sense. It was a machine mimicking an appearance of intelligence.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “How easily you can talk when you know nothing about it. I am Gaia. Yes, I am Bliss, too, but I am Gaia. I am a world that finds every atom of itself precious and meaningful, and every organization of atoms even more precious and meaningful. I/we/Gaia would not lightly break down an organization, though we would gladly build it into something still more complex, provided always that that would not harm the whole.</p>
     <p>“The highest form of organization we know produces intelligence, and to be willing to destroy intelligence requires the sorest need. Whether it is machine intelligence or biochemical intelligence scarcely matters. In fact, the Guardian Robot represented a kind of intelligence I/we/Gaia had never encountered. To study it was wonderful. To destroy it, unthinkable—except in a moment of crowning emergency.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said dryly, “There were three greater intelligences at stake: your own, that of Pelorat, the human being you love, and, if you don’t mind my mentioning it, mine.”</p>
     <p>“Four! You still keep forgetting to include Fallom. —They were not yet at stake. So I judged. See here—Suppose you were faced with a painting, a great artistic masterpiece, the existence of which meant death to you. All you had to do was to bring a wide brush of paint slam-bang, and at random, across the face of that painting and it would be destroyed forever, and you would be safe. But suppose, instead, that if you studied the painting carefully, and added just a touch of paint here, a speck there, scraped off a minute portion in a third place, and so on, you would alter the painting enough to avoid death, and yet leave it a masterpiece. Naturally, the revision couldn’t be done except with the most painstaking care. It would take time, but surely, if that time existed, you would try to save the painting as well as your life.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Perhaps. But in the end you destroyed the painting past redemption. The wide paintbrush came down and wiped out all the wonderful little touches of color and subtleties of form and shape. And you did that instantly when a little hermaphrodite was at risk, where our danger and your own had not moved you.”</p>
     <p>“We Outworlders were still not at <emphasis>immediate</emphasis> risk, while Fallom, it seemed to me, suddenly was. I had to choose between the Guardian Robots and Fallom, and, with no time to lose, I had to choose Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“Is that what it was, Bliss? A quick calculation weighing one mind against another, a quick judging of the greater complexity and the greater worth?”</p>
     <p>“Yes.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Suppose I tell you, it was just a child that was standing before you, a child threatened with death. An instinctive maternalism gripped you then, and you saved it where earlier you were all calculation when only three adult lives were at stake.”</p>
     <p>Bliss reddened slightly. “There might have been something like that in it; but it was not after the fashion of the mocking way in which you say it. It had rational thought behind it, too.”</p>
     <p>“I wonder. If there had been rational thought behind it, you might have considered that the child was meeting the common fate inevitable in its own society. Who knows how many thousands of children had been cut down to maintain the low number these Solarians think suitable to their world?”</p>
     <p>“There’s more to it than that, Trevize. The child would be killed because it was too young to be a Successor, and that was because it had a parent who had died prematurely, and <emphasis>that</emphasis> was because I had killed that parent.”</p>
     <p>“At a time when it was kill or be killed.”</p>
     <p>“Not important. I killed the parent. I could not stand by and allow the child to be killed for my deed. —Besides, it offers for study a brain of a kind that has never been studied by Gaia.”</p>
     <p>“A child’s brain.”</p>
     <p>“It will not remain a child’s brain. It will further develop the two transducer-lobes on either side of the brain. Those lobes give a Solarian abilities that all of Gaia cannot match. Simply to keep a few lights lit, just to activate a device to open a door, wore me out. Bander could have kept all the power going over an estate as great in complexity and greater in size than that city we saw on Comporellon—and do it even while sleeping.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Then you see the child as an important bit of fundamental brain research.”</p>
     <p>“In a way, yes.”</p>
     <p>“That’s not the way I feel. To me, it seems we have taken danger aboard. Great danger.”</p>
     <p>“Danger in what way? It will adapt perfectly—with my help. It is highly intelligent, and already shows signs of feeling affection for us. It will eat what we eat, go where we go, and I/we/Gaia will gain invaluable knowledge concerning its brain.”</p>
     <p>“What if it produces young? It doesn’t need a mate. It is its own mate.”</p>
     <p>“It won’t be of child-bearing age for many years. The Spacers lived for centuries and the Solarians had no desire to increase their numbers. Delayed reproduction is probably bred into the population. Fallom will have no children for a long time.”</p>
     <p>“How do you know this?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t <emphasis>know</emphasis> it. I’m merely being logical.”</p>
     <p>“And I tell you Fallom will prove dangerous.”</p>
     <p>“You don’t know that. And you’re not being logical, either.”</p>
     <p>“I feel it, Bliss, without reason. —At the moment. And it is you, not I, who insists my intuition is infallible.”</p>
     <p>And Bliss frowned and looked uneasy.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>59.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat paused at the door to the pilot-room and looked inside in a rather ill-at-ease manner. It was as though he were trying to decide whether Trevize was hard at work or not.</p>
     <p>Trevize had his hands on the table, as he always did when he made himself part of the computer, and his eyes were on the viewscreen. Pelorat judged, therefore, he was at work, and he waited patiently, trying not to move or, in any way, disturb the other.</p>
     <p>Eventually, Trevize looked up at Pelorat. It was not a matter of total awareness. Trevize’s eyes always seemed a bit glazed and unfocused when he was in computer-communion, as though he were looking, thinking, living in some other way than a person usually did.</p>
     <p>But he nodded slowly at Pelorat, as though the sight, penetrating with difficulty, did, at last, sluggishly impress itself on the optic lobes. Then, after a while, he lifted his hands and smiled and was himself again.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said apologetically, “I’m afraid I’m getting in your way, Golan.”</p>
     <p>“Not seriously, Janov. I was just testing to see if we were ready for the Jump. We are, just about, but I think I’ll give it a few more hours, just for luck.”</p>
     <p>“Does luck—or random factors—have anything to do with it?”</p>
     <p>“An expression only,” said Trevize, smiling, “but random factors do have something to do with it, in theory. —What’s on your mind?”</p>
     <p>“May I sit down?”</p>
     <p>“Surely, but let’s go into my room. How’s Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“Very well.” He cleared his throat. “She’s sleeping again. She must have her sleep, you understand.”</p>
     <p>“I understand perfectly. It’s the hyperspatial separation.”</p>
     <p>“Exactly, old chap.”</p>
     <p>“And Fallom?” Trevize reclined on the bed, leaving Pelorat the chair.</p>
     <p>“Those books out of my library that you had your computer print up for me? The folk tales? It’s reading them. Of course, it understands very little Galactic, but it seems to enjoy sounding out the words. He’s—I keep wanting to use the masculine pronoun for it. Why do you suppose that is, old fellow?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “Perhaps because you’re masculine yourself.”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps. It’s fearfully intelligent, you know.”</p>
     <p>“I’m sure.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat hesitated. “I gather you’re not very fond of Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“Nothing against it personally, Janov. I’ve never had children and I’ve never been particularly fond of them generally. You’ve had children, I seem to remember.”</p>
     <p>“One son. —It was a pleasure, I recall, having my son when he was a little boy. Maybe <emphasis>that’s</emphasis> why I want to use the masculine pronoun for Fallom. It takes me back a quarter of a century or so.”</p>
     <p>“I’ve no objection to your liking it, Janov.”</p>
     <p>“You’d like him, too, if you gave yourself a chance.”</p>
     <p>“I’m sure I would, Janov, and maybe someday I will give myself a chance to do so.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat hesitated again. “I also know that you must get tired of arguing with Bliss.”</p>
     <p>“Actually, I don’t think we’ll be arguing much, Janov. She and I are actually getting along quite well. We even had a reasonable discussion just the other day—no shouting, no recrimination—about her delay in inactivating the Guardian Robots. She keeps saving our lives, after all, so I can’t very well offer her less than friendship, can I?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, I see that, but I don’t mean arguing, in the sense of quarreling. I mean this constant wrangle about Galaxia as opposed to individuality.”</p>
     <p>“Oh, that! I suppose that will continue—politely.”</p>
     <p>“Would you mind, Golan, if I took up the argument on her behalf?”</p>
     <p>“Perfectly all right. Do you accept the idea of Galaxia on your own, or is it that you simply feel happier when you agree with Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“Honestly, on my own. I think that Galaxia is what should be forthcoming. You yourself chose that course of action and I am constantly becoming more convinced that that is correct.”</p>
     <p>“Because I chose it? That’s no argument. Whatever Gaia says, I may be wrong, you know. So don’t let Bliss persuade you into Galaxia on that basis.”</p>
     <p>“I don’t think you are wrong. Solaria showed me that, not Bliss.”</p>
     <p>“How?”</p>
     <p>“Well, to begin with, we are Isolates, you and I.”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>Her</emphasis> term, Janov. I prefer to think of us as individuals.”</p>
     <p>“A matter of semantics, old chap. Call it what you will, we are enclosed in our private skins surrounding our private thoughts, and we think first and foremost of ourselves. Self-defense is our first law of nature, even if that means harming everyone else in existence.”</p>
     <p>“People have been known to give their lives for others.”</p>
     <p>“A rare phenomenon. Many more people have been known to sacrifice the dearest needs of others to some foolish whim of their own.”</p>
     <p>“And what has that to do with Solaria?”</p>
     <p>“Why, on Solaria, we see what Isolates—or individuals, if you prefer—can become. The Solarians can hardly bear to divide a whole world among themselves. They consider living a life of complete isolation to be perfect liberty. They have no yearning for even their own offspring, but kill them if there are too many. They surround themselves with robot slaves to which they supply the power, so that if they die, their whole huge estate symbolically dies as well. Is this admirable, Golan? Can you compare it in decency, kindness, and mutual concern with Gaia? —Bliss has not discussed this with me at all. It is my own feeling.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “And it is like you to have that feeling, Janov. I share it. I think Solarian society is horrible, but it wasn’t always like that. They are descended from Earthmen, and, more immediately, from Spacers who lived a much more normal life. The Solarians chose a path, for one reason or another, which led to an extreme, but you can’t judge by extremes. In all the Galaxy, with its millions of inhabited worlds, is there one you know that now, or in the past, has had a society like that of Solaria, or even <emphasis>remotely</emphasis> like that of Solaria? And would even Solaria have such a society if it were not riddled with robots? Is it conceivable that a society of individuals could evolve to such a pitch of Solarian horror without robots?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat’s face twitched a little. “You punch holes in everything, Golan—or at least I mean you don’t ever seem to be at a loss in defending the type of Galaxy you voted against.”</p>
     <p>“I won’t knock down everything. There <emphasis>is</emphasis> a rationale for Galaxia and when I find it, I’ll know it, and I’ll give in. Or perhaps, more accurately, <emphasis>if</emphasis> I find it.”</p>
     <p>“Do you think you might not?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “How can I say? —Do you know why I’m waiting a few hours to make the Jump, and why I’m in danger of talking myself into waiting a few days?”</p>
     <p>“You said it would be safer if we waited.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, that’s what I said, but we’d be safe enough now. What I really fear is that those Spacer worlds for which we have the co-ordinates will fail us altogether. We have only three, and we’ve already used up two, narrowly escaping death each time. In doing so, we have still not gained any hint as to Earth’s location, or even, in actual fact, Earth’s existence. Now I face the third and last chance, and what if it, too, fails us?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat sighed. “You know there are old folk tales—one, in fact, exists among those I gave Fallom to practice upon—in which someone is allowed three wishes, but only three. Three seems to be a significant number in these things, perhaps because it is the first odd number so that it is the smallest decisive number. You know, two out of three wins. —The point is that in these stories, the wishes are of no use. No one ever wishes correctly, which, I have always supposed, is ancient wisdom to the effect that the satisfaction of your wants must be earned, and not—”</p>
     <p>He fell suddenly silent and abashed. “I’m sorry, old man, but I’m wasting your time. I do tend to rattle on when I get started on my hobby.”</p>
     <p>“I find you always interesting, Janov. I am willing to see the analogy. We have been given three wishes, and we have had two and they have done us no good. Now only one is left. Somehow, I am sure of failure again and so I wish to postpone it. That is why I am putting off the Jump as long as possible.”</p>
     <p>“What will you do if you do fail again? Go back to Gaia? To Terminus?”</p>
     <p>“Oh no,” said Trevize in a whisper, shaking his head. “The search must continue—if I only knew how.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>14</p>
     <p>DEAD PLANET</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>60.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize felt depressed. What few victories he had had since the search began had never been definitive; they had merely been the temporary staving off of defeat.</p>
     <p>Now he had delayed the Jump to the third of the Spacer worlds till he had spread his unease to the others. When he finally decided that he simply must tell the computer to move the ship through hyperspace, Pelorat was standing solemnly in the doorway to the pilot-room, and Bliss was just behind him and to one side. Even Fallom was standing there, gazing at Trevize owlishly, while one hand gripped Bliss’s hand tightly.</p>
     <p>Trevize had looked up from the computer and had said, rather churlishly, “Quite the family group!” but that was only his own discomfort speaking.</p>
     <p>He instructed the computer to Jump in such a way as to reenter space at a further distance from the star in question than was absolutely necessary. He told himself that that was because he was learning caution as a result of events on the first two Spacer worlds, but he didn’t believe that. Well underneath, he knew, he was hoping that he would arrive in space at a great enough distance from the star to be uncertain as to whether it did or did not have a habitable planet. That would give him a few more days of in-space travel before he could find out, and (perhaps) have to stare bitter defeat in the face.</p>
     <p>So now, with the “family group” watching, he drew a deep breath, held it, then expelled it in a between-the-lips whistle as he gave the computer its final instruction.</p>
     <p>The star-pattern shifted in a silent discontinuity and the viewscreen became barer, for he had been taken into a region in which the stars were somewhat sparser. And there, nearly in the center, was a brightly gleaming star.</p>
     <p>Trevize grinned broadly, for this was a victory of sorts. After all, the third set of co-ordinates might have been wrong and there might have been no appropriate G-type star in sight. He glanced toward the other three, and said, “That’s it. Star number three.”</p>
     <p>“Are you sure?” asked Bliss softly.</p>
     <p>“Watch!” said Trevize. “I will switch to the equicentered view in the computer’s Galactic map, and if that bright star disappears, it’s not recorded on the map, and it’s the one we want.”</p>
     <p>The computer responded to his command, and the star blinked out without any prior dimming. It was as though it had never been, but the rest of the starfield remained as it was, in sublime indifference.</p>
     <p>“We’ve got it,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>And yet he sent the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> forward at little more than half the speed he might easily have maintained. There was still the question of the presence or absence of a habitable planet, and he was in no hurry to find out. Even after three days of approach, there was still nothing to be said about that, either way.</p>
     <p>Or, perhaps, not quite nothing. Circling the star was a large gas giant. It was very far from its star and it gleamed a very pale yellow on its daylight side, which they could see, from their position, as a thick crescent.</p>
     <p>Trevize did not like its looks, but he tried not to show it and spoke as matter-of-factly as a guidebook. “There’s a big gas giant out there,” he said. “It’s rather spectacular. It has a thin pair of rings and two sizable satellites that can be made out at the moment.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Most systems include gas giants, don’t they?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, but this is a rather large one. Judging from the distance of its satellites, and their periods of revolution, that gas giant is almost two thousand times as massive as a habitable planet would be.”</p>
     <p>“What’s the difference?” said Bliss. “Gas giants are gas giants and it doesn’t matter what size they are, does it? They’re always present at great distances from the star they circle, and none of them are habitable, thanks to their size and distance. We just have to look closer to the star for a habitable planet.”</p>
     <p>Trevize hesitated, then decided to place the facts on the table. “The thing is,” he said, “that gas giants tend to sweep a volume of planetary space clean. What material they don’t absorb into their own structures will coalesce into fairly large bodies that come to make up their satellite system. They prevent other coalescences at even a considerable distance from themselves, so that the larger the gas giant, the more likely it is to be the only sizable planet of a particular star. There’ll just be the gas giant and asteroids.”</p>
     <p>“You mean there is no habitable planet here?”</p>
     <p>“The larger the gas giant, the smaller the chance of a habitable planet and that gas giant is so massive it is virtually a dwarf star.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “May we see it?”</p>
     <p>All three now stared at the screen (Fallom was in Bliss’s room with the books).</p>
     <p>The view was magnified till the crescent filled the screen. Crossing that crescent a distance above center was a thin dark line, the shadow of the ring system which could itself be seen a small distance beyond the planetary surface as a gleaming curve that stretched into the dark side a short distance before it entered the shadow itself.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “The planet’s axis of rotation is inclined about thirty-five degrees to its plane of revolution, and its ring is in the planetary equatorial plane, of course, so that the star’s light comes in from below, at this point in its orbit, and casts the ring’s shadow well above the equator.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat watched raptly. “Those are thin rings.”</p>
     <p>“Rather above average size, actually,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“According to legend, the rings that circle a gas giant in Earth’s planetary system are much wider, brighter, and more elaborate than this one. The rings actually dwarf the gas giant by comparison.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not surprised,” said Trevize. “When a story is handed on from person to person for thousands of years, do you suppose it shrinks in the telling?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “It’s beautiful. If you watch the crescent, it seems to writhe and wriggle before your eyes.”</p>
     <p>“Atmospheric storms,” said Trevize. “You can generally see that more clearly if you choose an appropriate wavelength of light. Here, let me try.” He placed his hands on the desk and ordered the computer to work its way through the spectrum and stop at the appropriate wavelength.</p>
     <p>The mildly lit crescent went into a wilderness of color that shifted so rapidly it almost dazed the eyes that tried to follow. Finally, it settled into a red-orange, and, within the crescent, clear spirals drifted, coiling and uncoiling as they moved.</p>
     <p>“Unbelievable,” muttered Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Delightful,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>Quite believable, thought Trevize bitterly, and anything but delightful. Neither Pelorat nor Bliss, lost in the beauty, bothered to think that the planet they admired lowered the chances of solving the mystery Trevize was trying to unravel. But, then, why should they? Both were satisfied that Trevize’s decision had been correct, and they accompanied him in his search for certainty without an emotional bond to it. It was useless to blame them for that.</p>
     <p>He said, “The dark side seems dark, but if our eyes were sensitive to the range just a little beyond the usual long-wave limit, we would see it as a dull, deep, angry red. The planet is pouring infrared radiation out into space in great quantities because it is massive enough to be almost red-hot. It’s more than a gas giant; it’s a sub-star.”</p>
     <p>He waited a little longer and then said, “And now let’s put that object out of our mind and look for the habitable planet that <emphasis>may</emphasis> exist.”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps it does,” said Pelorat, smiling. “Don’t give up, old fellow.”</p>
     <p>“I haven’t given up,” said Trevize, without true conviction. “The formation of planets is too complicated a matter for rules to be hard and fast. We speak only of probabilities. With that monster out in space, the probabilities decrease, but not to zero.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Why don’t you think of it this way? Since the first two sets of co-ordinates each gave you a habitable planet of the Spacers, then this third set, which has already given you an appropriate star, should give you a habitable planet as well. Why speak of probabilities?”</p>
     <p>“I certainly hope you’re right,” said Trevize, who did not feel at all consoled. “Now we will shoot out of the planetary plane and in toward the star.”</p>
     <p>The computer took care of that almost as soon as he had spoken his intention. He sat back in his pilot’s chair and decided, once again, that the one evil of piloting a gravitic ship with a computer so advanced was that one could never—<emphasis>never</emphasis>—pilot any other type of ship again.</p>
     <p>Could he ever again bear to do the calculations himself? Could he bear to have to take acceleration into account, and limit it to a reasonable level? —In all likelihood, he would forget and pour on the energy till he and everyone on board were smashed against one interior wall or another.</p>
     <p>Well, then, he would continue to pilot this one ship—or another exactly like it, if he could even bear to make so much of a change—always.</p>
     <p>And because he wanted to keep his mind off the question of the habitable planet, yes or no, he mused on the fact that he had directed the ship to move above the plane, rather than below. Barring any definite reason to go below a plane, pilots almost always chose to go above. Why?</p>
     <p>For that matter, why be so intent on considering one direction above and the other below? In the symmetry of space that was pure convention.</p>
     <p>Just the same, he was always aware of the direction in which any planet under observation rotated about its axis and revolved about its star. When both were counterclockwise, then the direction of one’s raised arm was north, and the direction of one’s feet was south. And throughout the Galaxy, north was pictured as above and south as below.</p>
     <p>It was pure convention, dating back into the primeval mists, and it was followed slavishly. If one looked at a familiar map with south above, one didn’t recognize it. It had to be turned about to make sense. And all things being equal, one turned north—and “above.”</p>
     <p>Trevize thought of a battle fought by Bel Riose, the Imperial general of three centuries before, who had veered his squadron below the planetary plane at a crucial moment, and caught a squadron of vessels, waiting and unprepared. There were complaints that it had been an unfair maneuver—by the losers, of course.</p>
     <p>A convention, so powerful and so primordially old, must have started on Earth—and that brought Trevize’s mind, with a jerk, back to the question of the habitable planet.</p>
     <p>Pelorat and Bliss continued to watch the gas giant as it slowly turned on the viewscreen in a slow, slow back-somersault. The sunlit portion spread and, as Trevize kept its spectrum fixed in the orange-red wavelengths, the storm-writhing of its surface became ever madder and more hypnotic.</p>
     <p>Then Fallom came wandering in and Bliss decided it must take a nap and that so must she.</p>
     <p>Trevize said to Pelorat, who remained, “I have to let go of the gas giant, Janov. I want to have the computer concentrate on the search for a gravitational blip of the right size.”</p>
     <p>“Of course, old fellow,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>But it was more complicated than that. It was not just a blip of the right size that the computer had to search for, it was one of the right size and at the right distance. It would still be several days before he could be sure.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>61.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize walked into his room, grave, solemn—indeed somber—and started perceptibly.</p>
     <p>Bliss was waiting for him and immediately next to her was Fallom, with its loincloth and robe bearing the unmistakable fresh odor of steaming and vacupressing. The youngster looked better in that than in one of Bliss’s foreshortened nightgowns.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “I didn’t want to disturb you at the computer, but now listen. —Go on, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>Fallom said, in its high-pitched musical voice, “I greet you, Protector Trevize. It is with great pleasure that I am ap—ad—accompanying you on this ship through space. I am happy, too, for the kindness of my friends, Bliss and Pel.”</p>
     <p>Fallom finished and smiled prettily, and once again Trevize thought to himself: Do I think of it as a boy or as a girl or as both or as neither?</p>
     <p>He nodded his head. “Very well memorized. Almost perfectly pronounced.”</p>
     <p>“Not at all memorized,” said Bliss warmly. “Fallom composed this itself and asked if it would be possible to recite it to you. I didn’t even know what Fallom would say till I heard it said.”</p>
     <p>Trevize forced a smile, “In that case, very good indeed.” He noticed Bliss avoided pronouns when she could.</p>
     <p>Bliss turned to Fallom and said, “I told you Trevize would like it. —Now go to Pel and you can have some more reading if you wish.”</p>
     <p>Fallom ran off, and Bliss said, “It’s really astonishing how quickly Fallom is picking up Galactic. The Solarians must have a special aptitude for languages. Think how Bander spoke Galactic merely from hearing it on hyperspatial communications. Those brains may be remarkable in ways other than energy transduction.”</p>
     <p>Trevize grunted.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Don’t tell me you still don’t like Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“I neither like nor dislike. The creature simply makes me uneasy. For one thing, it’s a grisly feeling to be dealing with a hermaphrodite.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Come, Trevize, that’s ridiculous. Fallom is a perfectly acceptable living creature. To a society of hermaphrodites, think how disgusting you and I must seem—males and females generally. Each is half of a whole and, in order to reproduce, there must be a temporary and clumsy union.”</p>
     <p>“Do you object to that, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“Don’t pretend to misunderstand. I am trying to view us from the hermaphroditic standpoint. To them, it must seem repellent in the extreme; to us, it seems natural. So Fallom seems repellent to you, but that’s just a short-sighted parochial reaction.”</p>
     <p>“Frankly,” said Trevize, “it’s annoying not to know the pronoun to use in connection with the creature. It impedes thought and conversation to hesitate forever at the pronoun.”</p>
     <p>“But that’s the fault of our language,” said Bliss, “and not of Fallom. No human language has been devised with hermaphroditism in mind. And I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been thinking about it myself. —Saying ‘it,’ as Bander itself insisted on doing, is no solution. That is a pronoun intended for objects to which sex is irrelevant, and there is no pronoun at all for objects that are sexually active in both senses. Why not just pick one of the pronouns arbitrarily, then? I think of Fallom as a girl. She has the high voice of one, for one thing, and she has the capacity of producing young, which is the vital definition of femininity. Pelorat has agreed; why don’t you do so, too? Let it be ‘she’ and ‘her.’?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “Very well. It will sound peculiar to point out that <emphasis>she</emphasis> has testicles, but very well.”</p>
     <p>Bliss sighed. “You do have this annoying habit of trying to turn everything into a joke, but I know you are under tension and I’ll make allowance for that. Just use the feminine pronoun for Fallom, please.”</p>
     <p>“I will.” Trevize hesitated, then, unable to resist, said, “Fallom seems more your surrogate-child every time I see you together. Is it that you want a child and don’t think Janov can give you one?”</p>
     <p>Bliss’s eyes opened wide. “He’s not there for children! Do you think I use him as a handy device to help me have a child? It is not time for me to have a child, in any case. And when it is time, it will have to be a Gaian child, something for which Pel doesn’t qualify.”</p>
     <p>“You mean Janov will have to be discarded?”</p>
     <p>“Not at all. A temporary diversion, only. It might even be brought about by artificial insemination.”</p>
     <p>“I presume you can only have a child when Gaia’s decision is that one is necessary; when there is a gap produced by the death of an already-existing Gaian human fragment.”</p>
     <p>“That is an unfeeling way of putting it, but it is true enough. Gaia must be well proportioned in all its parts and relationships.”</p>
     <p>“As in the case of the Solarians.”</p>
     <p>Bliss’s lips pressed together and her face grew a little white. “Not at all. The Solarians produce more than they need and destroy the excess. We produce just what we need and there is never a necessity of destroying—as you replace the dying outer layers of your skin by just enough new growth for renewal and by not one cell more.”</p>
     <p>“I see what you mean,” said Trevize. “I hope, by the way, that you are considering Janov’s feelings.”</p>
     <p>“In connection with a possible child for me? That has never come up for discussion; nor will it.”</p>
     <p>“No, I don’t mean that. —It strikes me you are becoming more and more interested in Fallom. Janov may feel neglected.”</p>
     <p>“He’s not neglected, and he is as interested in Fallom as I am. She is another point of mutual involvement that draws us even closer together. Can it be that <emphasis>you</emphasis> are the one who feels neglected?”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>I?</emphasis>” He was genuinely surprised.</p>
     <p>“Yes, you. I don’t understand Isolates any more than you understand Gaia, but I have a feeling that you enjoy being the central point of attention on this ship, and you may feel cut out by Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“That’s foolish.”</p>
     <p>“No more foolish than your suggestion that I am neglecting Pel.”</p>
     <p>“Then let’s declare a truce and stop. I’ll try to view Fallom as a girl, and I shall not worry excessively about you being inconsiderate of Janov’s feelings.”</p>
     <p>Bliss smiled. “Thank you. All is well, then.”</p>
     <p>Trevize turned away, and Bliss then said, “Wait!”</p>
     <p>Trevize turned back and said, just a bit wearily, “Yes?”</p>
     <p>“It’s quite clear to me, Trevize, that you’re sad and depressed. I am not going to probe your mind, but you might be willing to tell me what’s wrong. Yesterday, you said there was an appropriate planet in this system and you seemed quite pleased. —It’s still there, I hope. The finding hasn’t turned out to be mistaken, has it?”</p>
     <p>“There’s an appropriate planet in the system, and it’s still there,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Is it the right size?”</p>
     <p>Trevize nodded. “Since it’s appropriate, it’s of the right size. And it’s at the right distance from the star as well.”</p>
     <p>“Well, then, what’s wrong?”</p>
     <p>“We’re close enough now to analyze the atmosphere. It turns out that it has none to speak of.”</p>
     <p>“No atmosphere?”</p>
     <p>“None to speak of. It’s a nonhabitable planet, and there is no other circling the sun that has even the remotest capacity for habitability. We have come up with zero on this third attempt.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>62.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat, looking grave, was clearly unwilling to intrude on Trevize’s unhappy silence. He watched from the door of the pilot-room, apparently hoping that Trevize would initiate a conversation.</p>
     <p>Trevize did not. If ever a silence seemed stubborn, his did.</p>
     <p>And finally, Pelorat could stand it no longer, and said, in a rather timid way, “What are we doing?”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked up, stared at Pelorat for a moment, turned away, and then said, “We’re zeroing in on the planet.”</p>
     <p>“But since there’s no atmosphere—”</p>
     <p>“The computer <emphasis>says</emphasis> there’s no atmosphere. Till now, it’s always told me what I’ve wanted to hear and I’ve accepted it. Now it has told me something I <emphasis>don’t</emphasis> want to hear, and I’m going to check it. If the computer is ever going to be wrong, this is the time I want it to be wrong.”</p>
     <p>“Do you think it’s wrong?”</p>
     <p>“No, I don’t.”</p>
     <p>“Can you think of any reason that might make it wrong?”</p>
     <p>“No, I can’t.”</p>
     <p>“Then why are you bothering, Golan?”</p>
     <p>And Trevize finally wheeled in his seat to face Pelorat, his face twisted in near-despair, and said, “Don’t you see, Janov, that I can’t think of anything else to do? We drew blanks on the first two worlds as far as Earth’s location is concerned, and now this world is a blank. What do I do now? Wander from world to world, and peer about and say, ‘Pardon me. Where’s Earth?’ Earth has covered its tracks too well. Nowhere has it left any hint. I’m beginning to think that it will see to it that we’re incapable of picking up a hint even if one exists.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat nodded, and said, “I’ve been thinking along those lines myself. Do you mind if we discuss it? I know you’re unhappy, old chap, and don’t want to talk, so if you want me to leave you alone, I will.”</p>
     <p>“Go ahead, discuss it,” said Trevize, with something that was remarkably like a groan. “What have I got better to do than listen?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “That doesn’t sound as though you really want me to talk, but perhaps it will do us good. Please stop me at any time if you decide you can stand it no longer. —It seems to me, Golan, that Earth need not take only passive and negative measures to hide itself. It need not merely wipe out references to itself. Might it not plant false evidence and work actively for obscurity in that fashion?”</p>
     <p>“How do you mean?”</p>
     <p>“Well, we’ve heard of Earth’s radioactivity in several places, and that sort of thing would be designed to make anyone break off any attempt to locate it. If it were truly radioactive, it would be totally unapproachable. In all likelihood, we would not even be able to set foot on it. Even robot explorers, if we had any, might not survive the radiation. So why look? And if it is not radioactive, it remains inviolate, except for accidental approach, and even then it might have other means of masking itself.”</p>
     <p>Trevize managed a smile. “Oddly enough, Janov, that thought has occurred to me. It has even occurred to me that that improbable giant satellite has been invented and planted in the world’s legends. As for the gas giant with the monstrous ring system, that is equally improbable and may be equally planted. It is all designed, perhaps, to have us look for something that doesn’t exist, so that we go right through the correct planetary system, staring at Earth and dismissing it because, in actual fact, it lacks a large satellite or a triple-ringed cousin or a radioactive crust. We don’t recognize it, therefore, and don’t dream we are looking at it. —I imagine worse, too.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat looked downcast. “How can there be worse?”</p>
     <p>“Easily—when your mind gets sick in the middle of the night and begins searching the vast realm of fantasy for anything that can deepen despair. What if Earth’s ability to hide is ultimate? What if our minds can be clouded? What if we can move right past Earth, <emphasis>with</emphasis> its giant satellite and <emphasis>with</emphasis> its distant ringed gas giant, and never see any of it? What if we have already done so?”</p>
     <p>“But if you believe that, why are we—?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t say I believe that. I’m talking about mad fancies. We’ll keep on looking.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat hesitated, then said, “For how long, Trevize? At some point, surely, we’ll have to give up.”</p>
     <p>“Never,” said Trevize fiercely. “If I have to spend the rest of my life going from planet to planet and peering about and saying, ‘Please, sir, where’s Earth?’ then that’s what I’ll do. At any time, I can take you and Bliss and even Fallom, if you wish, back to Gaia and then take off on my own.”</p>
     <p>“Oh no. You know I won’t leave you, Golan, and neither will Bliss. We’ll go planet-hopping with you, if we must. But why?”</p>
     <p>“Because I <emphasis>must</emphasis> find Earth, and because I will. I don’t know how, but I will. —Now, look, I’m trying to reach a position where I can study the sunlit side of the planet without its sun being too close, so just let me be for a while.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat fell silent, but did not leave. He continued to watch while Trevize studied the planetary image, more than half in daylight, on the screen. To Pelorat, it seemed featureless, but he knew that Trevize, bound to the computer, saw it under enhanced circumstances.</p>
     <p>Trevize whispered, “There’s a haze.”</p>
     <p>“Then there must be an atmosphere,” blurted out Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Not necessarily much of one. Not enough to support life, but enough to support a thin wind that will raise dust. It’s a well-known characteristic of planets with thin atmospheres. There may even be small polar ice caps. A little water-ice condensed at the poles, you know. This world is too warm for solid carbon dioxide. —I’ll have to switch to radar-mapping. And if I do that I can work more easily on the nightside.”</p>
     <p>“Really?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. I should have tried it first, but with a virtually airless and, therefore, cloudless planet, the attempt with visible light seems so natural.”</p>
     <p>Trevize was silent for a long time, while the view-screen grew fuzzy with radar-reflections that produced almost the abstraction of a planet, something that an artist of the Cleonian period might have produced. Then he said, “Well—” emphatically, holding the sound for a while, and was silent again.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, at last, “What’s the ‘well’ about?”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked at him briefly. “No craters that I can see.”</p>
     <p>“No craters? Is that good?”</p>
     <p>“Totally unexpected,” said Trevize. His face broke into a grin, “And <emphasis>very</emphasis> good. In fact, possibly magnificent.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>63.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Fallom remained with her nose pressed against the ship’s porthole, where a small segment of the Universe was visible in the precise form in which the eye saw it, without computer enlargement or enhancement.</p>
     <p>Bliss, who had been trying to explain it all, sighed and said in a low voice to Pelorat, “I don’t know how much she understands, Pel dear. To her, her father’s mansion and a small section of the estate it stood upon was all the Universe. I don’t think she was ever out at night, or ever saw the stars.”</p>
     <p>“Do you really think so?”</p>
     <p>“I really do. I didn’t dare show her any part of it until she had enough vocabulary to understand me just a little—and how fortunate it was that you could speak with her in her own language.”</p>
     <p>“The trouble is I’m not very good at it,” said Pelorat apologetically. “And the Universe <emphasis>is</emphasis> rather hard to grasp if you come at it suddenly. She said to me that if those little lights are giant worlds, each one just like Solaria—they’re much larger than Solaria, of course—that they couldn’t hang in nothing. They ought to fall, she says.”</p>
     <p>“And she’s right, judging by what she knows. She asks sensible questions, and little by little, she’ll understand. At least she’s curious and she’s not frightened.”</p>
     <p>“The thing is, Bliss, I’m curious, too. Look how Golan changed as soon as he found out there were no craters on the world we’re heading for. I haven’t the slightest idea what difference that makes. Do you?”</p>
     <p>“Not a bit. Still he knows much more planetology than we do. We can only assume he knows what he’s doing.”</p>
     <p>“I wish <emphasis>I</emphasis> knew.”</p>
     <p>“Well, ask him.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat grimaced. “I’m always afraid I’ll annoy him. I’m sure he thinks I ought to know these things without being told.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “That’s silly, Pel. He has no hesitation in asking you about any aspect of the Galaxy’s legends and myths which he thinks might be useful. You’re always willing to answer and explain, so why shouldn’t he be? You go ask him. If it annoys him, then he’ll have a chance to practice sociability, and that will be good for him.”</p>
     <p>“Will you come with me?”</p>
     <p>“No, of course not. I want to stay with Fallom and continue to try to get the concept of the Universe into her head. You can always explain it to me afterward—once he explains it to you.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>64.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat entered the pilot-room diffidently. He was delighted to note that Trevize was whistling to himself and was clearly in a good mood.</p>
     <p>“Golan,” he said, as brightly as he could.</p>
     <p>Trevize looked up. “Janov! You’re always tiptoeing in as though you think it’s against the law to disturb me. Close the door and sit down. Sit down! Look at that thing.”</p>
     <p>He pointed to the planet on the viewscreen, and said, “I haven’t found more than two or three craters, each quite small.”</p>
     <p>“Does that make a difference, Golan? Really?”</p>
     <p>“A difference? Certainly. How can you ask?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat gestured helplessly. “It’s all a mystery to me. I was a history major at college. I took sociology and psychology in addition to history, also languages and literature, mostly ancient, and specialized in mythology in graduate school. I never came near planetology, or any of the physical sciences.”</p>
     <p>“That’s no crime, Janov. I’d rather you know what you know. Your facility in ancient languages and in mythology has been of enormous use to us. You know that. —And when it comes to a matter of planetology, I’ll take care of that.”</p>
     <p>He went on, “You see, Janov, planets form through the smashing together of smaller objects. The last few objects to collide leave crater marks. Potentially, that is. If the planet is large enough to be a gas giant, it is essentially liquid under a gaseous atmosphere and the final collisions are just splashes and leave no marks.</p>
     <p>“Smaller planets which are solid, whether icy or rocky, <emphasis>do</emphasis> show crater marks, and these remain indefinitely unless an agency for removal exists. There are three types of removals.</p>
     <p>“First, a world may have an icy surface overlying a liquid ocean. In that case, any colliding object breaks through the ice and splashes water. Behind it the ice refreezes and heals the puncture, so to speak. Such a planet, or satellite, would have to be cold, and would not be what we would consider a habitable world.</p>
     <p>“Second, if a planet is intensely active, volcanically, then a perpetual lava flow or ash fallout is forever filling in and obscuring any craters that form. However, such a planet or satellite is not likely to be habitable either.</p>
     <p>“That brings us to habitable worlds as a third case. Such worlds may have polar ice caps, but most of the ocean must be freely liquid. They may have active volcanoes, but these must be sparsely distributed. Such worlds can neither heal craters, nor fill them in. There are, however, erosion effects. Wind and flowing water will erode craters, and if there is life, the actions of living things are strongly erosive as well. See?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat considered that, then said, “But, Golan, I don’t understand you at all. This planet we’re approaching—”</p>
     <p>“We’ll be landing tomorrow,” said Trevize cheerfully.</p>
     <p>“This planet we’re approaching doesn’t have an ocean.”</p>
     <p>“Only some thin polar ice caps.”</p>
     <p>“Or much of an atmosphere.”</p>
     <p>“Only a hundredth the density of the atmosphere on Terminus.”</p>
     <p>“Or life.”</p>
     <p>“Nothing I can detect.”</p>
     <p>“Then what could have eroded away the craters?”</p>
     <p>“An ocean, an atmosphere, and life,” said Trevize. “Look, if this planet had been airless and waterless from the start, any craters that had been formed would still exist and the whole surface would be cratered. The absence of craters proves it can’t have been airless and waterless from the start, and may even have had a sizable atmosphere and ocean in the near past. Besides, there are huge basins, visible on this world, that must have held seas and oceans once, to say nothing of the marks of rivers that are now dry. So you see there <emphasis>was</emphasis> erosion and that erosion has ceased so short a time ago, that new cratering has not yet had time to accumulate.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat looked doubtful. “I may not be a planetologist, but it seems to me that if a planet is large enough to hang on to a dense atmosphere for perhaps billions of years, it isn’t going to suddenly lose it, is it?”</p>
     <p>“I shouldn’t think so,” said Trevize. “But this world undoubtedly held life before its atmosphere vanished, probably human life. My guess is that it was a terraformed world as almost all the human-inhabited worlds of the Galaxy are. The trouble is that we don’t really know what its condition was before human life arrived, or what was done to it in order to make it comfortable for human beings, or under what conditions, actually, life vanished. There may have been a catastrophe that sucked off the atmosphere and that brought about the end of human life. Or there may have been some strange imbalance on this planet that human beings controlled as long as they were here and that went into a vicious cycle of atmospheric reduction once they were gone. Maybe we’ll find the answer when we land, or maybe we won’t. It doesn’t matter.”</p>
     <p>“But surely neither does it matter if there was life here once, if there isn’t now. What’s the difference if a planet has always been uninhabitable, or is only uninhabitable now?”</p>
     <p>“If it is only uninhabitable now, there will be ruins of the one-time inhabitants.”</p>
     <p>“There were ruins on Aurora—”</p>
     <p>“Exactly, but on Aurora there had been twenty thousand years of rain and snow, freezing and thawing, wind and temperature change. And there was also life—don’t forget life. There may not have been human beings there, but there was plenty of life. Ruins can be eroded just as craters can. Faster. And in twenty thousand years, not enough was left to do us any good. —Here on this planet, however, there has been a passage of time, perhaps twenty thousand years, perhaps less, without wind, or storm, or life. There has been temperature change, I admit, but that’s all. The ruins will be in good shape.”</p>
     <p>“Unless,” murmured Pelorat doubtfully, “there are no ruins. Is it possible that there was never any life on the planet, or never any human life at any rate, and that the loss of the atmosphere was due to some event that human beings had nothing to do with?”</p>
     <p>“No, no,” said Trevize. “You can’t turn pessimist on me, because it won’t work. Even from here, I’ve spotted the remains of what I’m sure was a city. —So we land tomorrow.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>65.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Bliss said, in a worried tone, “Fallom is convinced we’re going to take her back to Jemby, her robot.”</p>
     <p>“Umm,” said Trevize, studying the surface of the world as it slid back under the drifting ship. Then he looked up as though he had heard the remark only after a delay. “Well, it was the only parent she knew, wasn’t it?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, of course, but she thinks we’ve come back to Solaria.”</p>
     <p>“Does it look like Solaria?”</p>
     <p>“How would she know?”</p>
     <p>“Tell her it’s not Solaria. Look, I’ll give you one or two reference book-films with graphic illustrations. Show her close-ups of a number of different inhabited worlds and explain that there are millions of them. You’ll have time for it. I don’t know how long Janov and I will have to wander around, once we pick a likely target and land.”</p>
     <p>“You and Janov?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. Fallom can’t come with us, even if I wanted her to, which I would only want if I were a madman. This world requires space suits, Bliss. There’s no breathable air. And we don’t have a space suit that would fit Fallom. So she and you stay on the ship.”</p>
     <p>“Why I?”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s lips stretched into a humorless smile. “I admit,” he said, “I would feel safer if you were along, but we can’t leave Fallom on this ship alone. She can do damage even if she doesn’t mean to. I must have Janov with me because he might be able to make out whatever archaic writing they have here. That means you will have to stay with Fallom. I should think you would want to.”</p>
     <p>Bliss looked uncertain.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Look. You wanted Fallom along, when I didn’t. I’m convinced she’ll be nothing but trouble. So—her presence introduces constraints, and you’ll have to adjust yourself to that. She’s here, so you’ll have to be here, too. That’s the way it is.”</p>
     <p>Bliss sighed. “I suppose so.”</p>
     <p>“Good. Where’s Janov?”</p>
     <p>“He’s with Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“Very well. Go and take over. I want to talk to him.”</p>
     <p>Trevize was still studying the planetary surface when Pelorat walked in, clearing his throat to announce his presence. He said, “Is anything wrong, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“Not exactly wrong, Janov. I’m just uncertain. This is a peculiar world and I don’t know what happened to it. The seas must have been extensive, judging from the basins left behind, but they were shallow. As nearly as I can tell from the traces left behind, this was a world of desalinization and canals—or perhaps the seas weren’t very salty. If they weren’t very salty, that would account for the absence of extensive salt flats in the basins. Or else, when the ocean was lost, the salt content was lost with it—which certainly makes it look like a human deed.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said hesitantly, “Excuse my ignorance about such things, Golan, but does any of this matter as far as what we are looking for is concerned?”</p>
     <p>“I suppose not, but I can’t help being curious. If I knew just how this planet was terraformed into human habitability and what it was like before terraforming, then perhaps I would understand what has happened to it after it was abandoned—or just before, perhaps. And if we did know what happened to it, we might be forewarned against unpleasant surprises.”</p>
     <p>“What kind of surprises? It’s a dead world, isn’t it?”</p>
     <p>“Dead enough. Very little water; thin, unbreathable atmosphere; and Bliss detects no signs of mental activity.”</p>
     <p>“That should settle it, I should think.”</p>
     <p>“Absence of mental activity doesn’t necessarily imply lack of life.”</p>
     <p>“It must surely imply lack of dangerous life.”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know. —But that’s not what I want to consult you about. There are two cities that might do for our first inspection. They seem to be in excellent shape; all the cities do. Whatever destroyed the air and oceans did not seem to touch the cities. Anyway, those two cities are particularly large. The larger, however, seems to be short on empty space. There are spaceports far in the outskirts but nothing in the city itself. The one not so large does have empty space, so it will be easier to come down in its midst, though not in formal spaceports—but then, who would care about that?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat grimaced. “Do you want <emphasis>me</emphasis> to make the decision, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“No, I’ll make the decision. I just want your thoughts.”</p>
     <p>“For what they’re worth, a large sprawling city is likely to be a commercial or manufacturing center. A smaller city with open space is likely to be an administrative center. It’s the administrative center we’d want. Does it have monumental buildings?”</p>
     <p>“What do you mean by a monumental building?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat smiled his tight little stretching of the lips. “I scarcely know. Fashions change from world to world and from time to time. I suspect, though, that they always look large, useless, and expensive. —Like the place where we were on Comporellon.”</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled in his turn. “It’s hard to tell looking straight down, and when I get a sideways glance as we approach or leave, it’s too confusing. Why do you prefer the administrative center?”</p>
     <p>“That’s where we’re likely to find the planetary museum, library, archives, university, and so on.”</p>
     <p>“Good. That’s where we’ll go, then; the smaller city. And maybe we’ll find something. We’ve had two misses, but maybe we’ll find something this time.”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps it will be three times lucky.”</p>
     <p>Trevize raised his eyebrows. “Where did you get that phrase?”</p>
     <p>“It’s an old one,” said Pelorat. “I found it in an ancient legend. It means success on the third try, I should think.”</p>
     <p>“That sounds right,” said Trevize. “Very well, then—three times lucky, Janov.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>15</p>
     <p>MOSS</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>66.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize looked grotesque in his space suit. The only part of him that remained outside were his holsters—not the ones that he strapped around his hips ordinarily, but more substantial ones that were part of his suit. Carefully, he inserted the blaster in the right-hand holster, the neuronic whip in the left. Again, they had been recharged and this time, he thought grimly, <emphasis>nothing</emphasis> would take them away from him.</p>
     <p>Bliss smiled. “Are you going to carry weapons even on a world without air or—Never mind! I won’t question your decisions.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Good!” and turned to help Pelorat adjust his helmet, before donning his own.</p>
     <p>Pelorat, who had never worn a space suit before, said, rather plaintively, “Will I really be able to breathe in this thing, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“I promise you,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Bliss watched as the final joints were sealed, her arm about Fallom’s shoulder. The young Solarian stared at the two space-suited figures in obvious alarm. She was trembling, and Bliss’s arm squeezed her gently and reassuringly.</p>
     <p>The airlock door opened, and the two stepped inside, their bloated arms waving a farewell. It closed. The mainlock door opened and they stepped clumsily onto the soil of a dead world.</p>
     <p>It was dawn. The sky was clear, of course, and purplish in color, but the sun had not yet risen. Along the lighter horizon where the sun would come, there was a slight haze.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “It’s cold.”</p>
     <p>“Do you feel cold?” said Trevize, with surprise. The suits were well insulated and if there was a problem, now and then, it was with the need for getting rid of body heat.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Not at all, but look—” His radioed voice sounded clear in Trevize’s ear, and his finger pointed.</p>
     <p>In the purplish light of dawn, the crumbling stone front of the building they were approaching was sheathed in hoar frost.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “With a thin atmosphere, it would get colder at night than you would expect, and warmer in the day. Right now it’s the coldest part of the day and it should take several hours before it gets too hot for us to remain in the sun.”</p>
     <p>As though the word had been a cabalistic incantation, the rim of the sun appeared above the horizon.</p>
     <p>“Don’t look at it,” said Trevize conversationally. “Your face-plate is reflective and ultraviolet-opaque, but it would still be dangerous.”</p>
     <p>He turned his back to the rising sun and let his long shadow fall on the building. The sunlight was causing the frost to disappear, even as he watched. For a few moments, the wall looked dark with dampness and then that disappeared, too.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “The buildings don’t look as good down here as they looked from the sky. They’re cracked and crumbling. That’s the result of the temperature change, I suppose, and of having the water traces freeze and melt each night and day for maybe as much as twenty thousand years.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “There are letters engraved in the stone above the entrance, but crumbling has made them difficult to read.”</p>
     <p>“Can you make it out, Janov?”</p>
     <p>“A financial institution of some sort. At least I make out a word which may be ‘bank.’?”</p>
     <p>“What’s that?”</p>
     <p>“A building in which assets were stored, withdrawn, traded, invested, loaned—if it’s what I think it is.”</p>
     <p>“A whole building devoted to it? No computers?”</p>
     <p>“Without computers taking over altogether.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. He did not find the details of ancient history inspiring.</p>
     <p>They moved about, with increasing haste, spending less time at each building. The silence, the <emphasis>deadness</emphasis>, was completely depressing. The slow millennial-long collapse into which they had intruded made the place seem like the skeleton of a city, with everything gone but the bones.</p>
     <p>They were well up in the temperate zone, but Trevize imagined he could feel the heat of the sun on his back.</p>
     <p>Pelorat, about a hundred meters to his right, said sharply, “Look at that.”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s ears rang. He said, “Don’t shout, Janov. I can hear your whispers clearly no matter how far away you are. What is it?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat, his voice moderating at once, said, “This building is the ‘Hall of the Worlds.’ At least, that’s what I think the inscription reads.”</p>
     <p>Trevize joined him. Before them was a three-story structure, the line of its roof irregular and loaded with large fragments of rock, as though some sculptured object that had once stood there had fallen to pieces.</p>
     <p>“Are you sure?” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“If we go in, we’ll find out.”</p>
     <p>They climbed five low, broad steps, and crossed a space-wasting plaza. In the thin air, their metal-shod footsteps made a whispering vibration rather than a sound.</p>
     <p>“I see what you mean by ‘large, useless, and expensive,’?” muttered Trevize.</p>
     <p>They entered a wide and high hall, with sunlight shining through tall windows and illuminating the interior too harshly where it struck and yet leaving things obscure in the shadow. The thin atmosphere scattered little light.</p>
     <p>In the center was a larger than life-size human figure in what seemed to be a synthetic stone. One arm had fallen off. The other arm was cracked at the shoulder and Trevize felt that if he tapped it sharply that arm, too, would break off. He stepped back as though getting too near might tempt him into such unbearable vandalism.</p>
     <p>“I wonder who that is?” said Trevize. “No markings anywhere. I suppose those who set it up felt that his fame was so obvious he needed no identification, but now—” He felt himself in danger of growing philosophical and turned his attention away.</p>
     <p>Pelorat was looking up, and Trevize’s glance followed the angle of Pelorat’s head. There were markings—carvings—on the wall which Trevize could not read.</p>
     <p>“Amazing,” said Pelorat. “Twenty thousand years old, perhaps, and, in here, protected somewhat from sun and damp, they’re still legible.”</p>
     <p>“Not to me,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“It’s in old script and ornate even for that. Let’s see now—seven—one—two—” His voice died away in a mumble, and then he spoke up again. “There are fifty names listed and there are supposed to have been fifty Spacer worlds and this is ‘The Hall of the Worlds.’ I assume those are the names of the fifty Spacer worlds, probably in the order of establishment. Aurora is first and Solaria is last. If you’ll notice, there are seven columns, with seven names in the first six columns and then eight names in the last. It is as though they had planned a seven-by-seven grid and then added Solaria after the fact. My guess, old chap, is that that list dates back to before Solaria was terraformed and populated.”</p>
     <p>“And which one is this planet we’re standing on? Can you tell?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “You’ll notice that the fifth one down in the third column, the nineteenth in order, is inscribed in letters a little larger than the others. The listers seem to have been self-centered enough to give themselves some pride of place. Besides—”</p>
     <p>“What does the name read?”</p>
     <p>“As near as I can make out, it says Melpomenia. It’s a name I’m totally unfamiliar with.”</p>
     <p>“Could it represent Earth?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shook his head vigorously, but that went unseen inside his helmet. He said, “There are dozens of words used for Earth in the old legends. Gaia is one of them, as you know. So is Terra, and Erda, and so on. They’re all short. I don’t know of any long name used for it, or anything even resembling a short version of Melpomenia.”</p>
     <p>“Then we’re standing on Melpomenia, and it’s not Earth.”</p>
     <p>“Yes. And besides—as I started to say earlier—an even better indication than the larger lettering is that the co-ordinates of Melpomenia are given as 0, 0, 0, and you would expect co-ordinates to be referred to one’s own planet.”</p>
     <p>“Co-ordinates?” Trevize sounded dumbfounded. “That list gives the co-ordinates, too?”</p>
     <p>“They give three figures for each and I presume those are co-ordinates. What else can they be?”</p>
     <p>Trevize did not answer. He opened a small compartment in the portion of the space suit that covered his right thigh and took out a compact device with wire connecting it to the compartment. He put it up to his eyes and carefully focused it on the inscription on the wall, his sheathed fingers making a difficult job out of something that would ordinarily have been a moment’s work.</p>
     <p>“Camera?” asked Pelorat unnecessarily.</p>
     <p>“It will feed the image directly into the ship’s computer,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>He took several photographs from different angles, then said, “Wait! I’ve got to get higher. Help me, Janov.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat clasped his hands together, stirrup-fashion, but Trevize shook his head. “That won’t support my weight. Get on your hands and knees.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat did so, laboriously, and, as laboriously, Trevize, having tucked the camera into its compartment again, stepped on Pelorat’s shoulders and from them on to the pedestal of the statue. He tried to rock the statue carefully to judge its firmness, then placed his foot on one bent knee and used it as a base for pushing himself upward and catching the armless shoulder. Wedging his toes against some unevenness at the chest, he lifted himself and, finally, after several grunts, managed to sit on the shoulder. To those long-dead who had revered the statue and what it represented, what Trevize did would have seemed blasphemy, and Trevize was sufficiently influenced by that thought to try to sit lightly.</p>
     <p>“You’ll fall and hurt yourself,” Pelorat called out anxiously.</p>
     <p>“I’m not going to fall and hurt myself, but <emphasis>you</emphasis> might deafen me.” Trevize unslung his camera and focused once more. Several more photographs were taken and then he replaced the camera yet again and carefully lowered himself till his feet touched the pedestal. He jumped to the ground and the vibration of his contact was apparently the final push, for the still intact arm crumbled, and produced a small heap of rubble at the foot of the statue. It made virtually no noise as it fell.</p>
     <p>Trevize froze, his first impulse being that of finding a place to hide before the watchman came and caught him. Amazing, he thought afterward, how quickly one relives the days of one’s childhood in a situation like that—when you’ve accidentally broken something that looks important. It lasted only a moment, but it cut deeply.</p>
     <p>Pelorat’s voice was hollow, as befitted one who had witnessed and even abetted an act of vandalism, but he managed to find words of comfort. “It’s—it’s all right, Golan. It was about to come down by itself, anyway.”</p>
     <p>He walked over to the pieces on the pedestal and floor as though he were going to demonstrate the point, reached out for one of the larger fragments, and then said, “Golan, come here.”</p>
     <p>Trevize approached and Pelorat, pointing at a piece of stone that had clearly been the portion of the arm that had been joined to the shoulder, said, “What is this?”</p>
     <p>Trevize stared. There was a patch of fuzz, bright green in color. Trevize rubbed it gently with his suited finger. It scraped off without trouble.</p>
     <p>“It looks a lot like moss,” he said.</p>
     <p>“The life-without-mind that you mentioned?”</p>
     <p>“I’m not completely sure how far without mind. Bliss, I imagine, would insist that this had consciousness, too—but she would claim this stone also had it.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Do you suppose that moss stuff is what’s crumbling the rock?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it helped. The world has plenty of sunlight and it has some water. Half what atmosphere it has is water vapor. The rest is nitrogen and inert gases. Just a trace of carbon dioxide, which would lead one to suppose there’s no plant life—but it could be that the carbon dioxide is low because it is virtually all incorporated into the rocky crust. Now if this rock has some carbonate in it, perhaps this moss breaks it down by secreting acid, and then makes use of the carbon dioxide generated. This may be the dominant remaining form of life on this planet.”</p>
     <p>“Fascinating,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Undoubtedly,” said Trevize, “but only in a limited way. The co-ordinates of the Spacer worlds are rather more interesting but what we really want are the coordinates of <emphasis>Earth</emphasis>. If they’re not here, they may be elsewhere in the building—or in another building. Come, Janov.”</p>
     <p>“But you know—” began Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“No, no,” said Trevize impatiently. “We’ll talk later. We’ve got to see what else, if anything, this building can give us. It’s getting warmer.” He looked at the small temperature reading on the back of his left glove. “Come, Janov.”</p>
     <p>They tramped through the rooms, walking as gently as possible, not because they were making sounds in the ordinary sense, or because there was anyone to hear them, but because they were a little shy of doing further damage through vibration.</p>
     <p>They kicked up some dust, which moved a short way upward and settled quickly through the thin air, and they left footmarks behind them.</p>
     <p>Occasionally, in some dim corner, one or the other would silently point out more samples of moss that were growing. There seemed a little comfort in the presence of life, however low in the scale, something that lifted the deadly, suffocating feel of walking through a dead world, especially one in which artifacts all about showed that once, long ago, it had been an elaborately living one.</p>
     <p>And then, Pelorat said, “I think this must be a library.”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked about curiously. There were shelves and, as he looked more narrowly, what the corner of his eye had dismissed as mere ornamentation, seemed as though they might well be book-films. Gingerly, he reached for one. They were thick and clumsy and then he realized they were only cases. He fumbled with his thick fingers to open one, and inside he saw several discs. They were thick, too, and seemed brittle, though he did not test that.</p>
     <p>He said, “Unbelievably primitive.”</p>
     <p>“Thousands of years old,” said Pelorat apologetically, as though defending the old Melpomenians against the accusation of retarded technology.</p>
     <p>Trevize pointed to the spine of the film where there were dim curlicues of the ornate lettering that the ancients had used. “Is that the title? What does it say?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat studied it. “I’m not really sure, old man. I think one of the words refers to microscopic life. It’s a word for ‘microorganism,’ perhaps. I suspect these are technical microbiological terms which I wouldn’t understand even in Standard Galactic.”</p>
     <p>“Probably,” said Trevize morosely. “And, equally probably, it wouldn’t do us any good even if we could read it. We’re not interested in germs. —Do me a favor, Janov. Glance through some of these books and see if there’s anything there with an interesting title. While you’re doing that, I’ll look over these book-viewers.”</p>
     <p>“Is that what they are?” said Pelorat, wondering. They were squat, cubical structures, topped by a slanted screen and a curved extension at the top that might serve as an elbow rest or a place on which to put an electro-notepad—if they had had such on Melpomenia.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “If this is a library, they must have book-viewers of one kind or another, and this seems as though it might suit.”</p>
     <p>He brushed the dust off the screen very gingerly and was relieved that the screen, whatever it might be made of, did not crumble at his touch. He manipulated the controls lightly, one after another. Nothing happened. He tried another book-viewer, then another, with the same negative results.</p>
     <p>He wasn’t surprised. Even if the device were to remain in working order for twenty millennia in a thin atmosphere and was resistant to water vapor, there was still the question of the power source. Stored energy had a way of leaking, no matter what was done to stop it. That was another aspect of the all-embracing, irresistible second law of thermodynamics.</p>
     <p>Pelorat was behind him. “Golan?”</p>
     <p>“Yes.”</p>
     <p>“I have a book-film here—”</p>
     <p>“What kind?”</p>
     <p>“I think it’s a history of space flight.”</p>
     <p>“Perfect—but it won’t do us any good if I can’t make this viewer work.” His hands clenched in frustration.</p>
     <p>“We could take the film back to the ship.”</p>
     <p>“I wouldn’t know how to adapt it to our viewer. It wouldn’t fit and our scanning system is sure to be incompatible.”</p>
     <p>“But is all that really necessary, Golan? If we—”</p>
     <p>“It is really necessary, Janov. Now don’t interrupt me. I’m trying to decide what to do. I can try adding power to the viewer. Perhaps that is all it needs.”</p>
     <p>“Where would you get the power?”</p>
     <p>“Well—” Trevize drew his weapons, looked at them briefly, then settled his blaster back into its holster. He cracked open his neuronic whip, and studied the energy-supply level. It was at maximum.</p>
     <p>Trevize threw himself prone upon the floor and reached behind the viewer (he kept assuming that was what it was) and tried to push it forward. It moved a small way and he studied what he found in the process.</p>
     <p>One of those cables had to carry the power supply and surely it was the one that came out of the wall. There was no obvious plug or joining. (How does one deal with an alien and ancient culture where the simplest taken-for-granted matters are made unrecognizable?)</p>
     <p>He pulled gently at the cable, then harder. He turned it one way, then the other. He pressed the wall in the vicinity of the cable, and the cable in the vicinity of the wall. He turned his attention, as best he could, to the half-hidden back of the viewer and nothing he could do there worked, either.</p>
     <p>He pressed one hand against the floor to raise himself and, as he stood up, the cable came with him. What he had done that had loosened it, he hadn’t the slightest idea.</p>
     <p>It didn’t look broken or torn away. The end seemed quite smooth and it had left a smooth spot in the wall where it had been attached.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said softly, “Golan, may I—”</p>
     <p>Trevize waved a peremptory arm at the other. “Not now, Janov. Please!”</p>
     <p>He was suddenly aware of the green material caking the creases on his left glove. He must have picked up some of the moss behind the viewer and crushed it. His glove had a faint dampness to it, but it dried as he watched, and the greenish stain grew brown.</p>
     <p>He turned his attention toward the cable, staring at the detached end carefully. Surely there were two small holes there. Wires could enter.</p>
     <p>He sat on the floor again and opened the power unit of his neuronic whip. Carefully, he depolarized one of the wires and clicked it loose. He then, slowly and delicately, inserted it into the hole, pushing it in until it stopped. When he tried gently to withdraw it again, it remained put, as though it had been seized. He suppressed his first impulse to yank it out again by force. He depolarized the other wire and pushed it into the other opening. It was conceivable that that would close the circuit and supply the viewer with power.</p>
     <p>“Janov,” he said, “you’ve played about with book-films of all kinds. See if you can work out a way of inserting that book into the viewer.”</p>
     <p>“Is it really nece—”</p>
     <p>“Please, Janov, you keep trying to ask unnecessary questions. We only have so much time. I don’t want to have to wait far into the night for the building to cool off to the point where we can return.”</p>
     <p>“It must go in this way,” said Janov, “but—”</p>
     <p>“Good,” said Trevize. “If it’s a history of space flight, then it will have to begin with Earth, since it was on Earth that space flight was invented. Let’s see if this thing works now.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat, a little fussily, placed the book-film into the obvious receptacle and then began studying the markings on the various controls for any hint as to direction.</p>
     <p>Trevize spoke in a low voice, while waiting, partly to ease his own tension. “I suppose there must be robots on this world, too—here and there—in reasonable order to all appearances—glistening in the near-vacuum. The trouble is their power supply would long since have been drained, too, and, even if repowered, what about their brains? Levers and gears might withstand the millennia, but what about whatever microswitches or subatomic gizmos they had in their brains? They would have to have deteriorated, and even if they had not, what would they know about Earth. What would they—”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “The viewer is working, old chap. See here.”</p>
     <p>In the dim light, the book-viewer screen began to flicker. It was only faint, but Trevize turned up the power slightly on his neuronic whip and it grew brighter. The thin air about them kept the area outside the shafts of sunlight comparatively dim, so that the room was faded and shadowy, and the screen seemed the brighter by contrast.</p>
     <p>It continued to flicker, with occasional shadows drifting across the screen.</p>
     <p>“It needs to be focused,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“I know,” said Pelorat, “but this seems the best I can do. The film itself must have deteriorated.”</p>
     <p>The shadows came and went rapidly now, and periodically there seemed something like a faint caricature of print. Then, for a moment, there was sharpness and it faded again.</p>
     <p>“Get that back and hold it, Janov,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Pelorat was already trying. He passed it going backward, then again forward, and then got it and held it.</p>
     <p>Eagerly, Trevize tried to read it, then said, in frustration, “Can <emphasis>you</emphasis> make it out, Janov?”</p>
     <p>“Not entirely,” said Pelorat, squinting at the screen. “It’s about Aurora. I can tell that much. I think it’s dealing with the first hyperspatial expedition—the ‘prime outpouring,’ it says.”</p>
     <p>He went forward, and it blurred and shadowed again. He said finally, “All the pieces I can get seem to deal with the Spacer worlds, Golan. There’s nothing I can find about Earth.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said bitterly, “No, there wouldn’t be. It’s all been wiped out on this world as it has on Trantor. Turn the thing off.”</p>
     <p>“But it doesn’t matter—” began Pelorat, turning it off.</p>
     <p>“Because we can try other libraries? It will be wiped out there, too. Everywhere. Do you know—” He had looked at Pelorat as he spoke, and now he stared at him with a mixture of horror and revulsion. “What’s wrong with your face-plate?” he asked.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>67.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat automatically lifted his gloved hand to his face-plate and then took it away and looked at it.</p>
     <p>“What is it?” he said, puzzled. Then, he looked at Trevize and went on, rather squeakily, “There’s something peculiar about <emphasis>your</emphasis> face-plate, Golan.”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked about automatically for a mirror. There was none and he would need a light if there were. He muttered, “Come into the sunlight, will you?”</p>
     <p>He half-led, half-pulled Pelorat into the shaft of sunlight from the nearest window. He could feel its warmth upon his back despite the insulating effect of the space suit.</p>
     <p>He said, “Look toward the sun, Janov, and close your eyes.”</p>
     <p>It was at once clear what was wrong with the face-plate. There was moss growing luxuriantly where the glass of the face-plate met the metallized fabric of the suit itself. The face-plate was rimmed with green fuzziness and Trevize knew his own was, too.</p>
     <p>He brushed a finger of his glove across the moss on Pelorat’s face-plate. Some of it came off, the crushed green staining the glove. Even as he watched it glisten in the sunlight, however, it seemed to grow stiffer and drier. He tried again, and this time, the moss crackled off. It was turning brown. He brushed the edges of Pelorat’s face-plate again, rubbing hard.</p>
     <p>“Do mine, Janov,” he said. Then, later, “Do I look clean? Good, so do you. —Let’s go. I don’t think there’s more to do here.”</p>
     <p>The sun was uncomfortably hot in the deserted airless city. The stone buildings gleamed brightly, almost achingly. Trevize squinted as he looked at them and, as far as possible, walked on the shady side of the thoroughfares. He stopped at a crack in one of the building fronts, one wide enough to stick his little finger into, gloved as it was. He did just that, looked at it, muttered, “Moss,” and deliberately walked to the end of the shadow and held that finger out in the sunlight for a while.</p>
     <p>He said, “Carbon dioxide is the bottleneck. Anywhere they can get carbon dioxide—decaying rock—anywhere—it will grow. We’re a good source of carbon dioxide, you know, probably richer than anything else on this nearly dead planet, and I suppose traces of the gas leak out at the boundary of the face-plate.”</p>
     <p>“So the moss grows there.”</p>
     <p>“Yes.”</p>
     <p>It seemed a long walk back to the ship, much longer and, of course, hotter than the one they had taken at dawn. The ship was still in the shade when they got there, however; that much Trevize had calculated correctly, at least.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Look!”</p>
     <p>Trevize saw. The boundaries of the mainlock were outlined in green moss.</p>
     <p>“More leakage?” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Of course. Insignificant amounts, I’m sure, but this moss seems to be a better indicator of trace amounts of carbon dioxide than anything I ever heard of. Its spores must be everywhere and wherever a few molecules of carbon dioxide are to be found, they sprout.” He adjusted his radio for ship’s wavelength and said, “Bliss, can you hear me?”</p>
     <p>Bliss’s voice sounded in both sets of ears. “Yes. Are you ready to come in? Any luck?”</p>
     <p>“We’re just outside,” said Trevize, “but <emphasis>don’t</emphasis> open the lock. We’ll open it from out here. Repeat, <emphasis>don’t</emphasis> open the lock.”</p>
     <p>“Why not?”</p>
     <p>“Bliss, just do as I ask, will you? We can have a long discussion afterward.”</p>
     <p>Trevize brought out his blaster and carefully lowered its intensity to minimum, then gazed at it uncertainly. He had never used it at minimum. He looked about him. There was nothing suitably fragile to test it on.</p>
     <p>In sheer desperation, he turned it on the rocky hillside in whose shadow the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> lay. —The target didn’t turn red-hot. Automatically, he felt the spot he had hit. Did it feel warm? He couldn’t tell with any degree of certainty through the insultated fabric of his suit.</p>
     <p>He hesitated again, then thought that the hull of the ship would be as resistant, within an order of magnitude at any rate, as the hillside. He turned the blaster on the rim of the lock and flicked the contact briefly, holding his breath.</p>
     <p>Several centimeters of the moss-like growth browned at once. He waved his hand in the vicinity of the browning and even the mild breeze set up in the thin air in this way sufficed to set the light skeletal remnants that made up the brown material to scattering.</p>
     <p>“Does it work?” said Pelorat anxiously.</p>
     <p>“Yes, it does,” said Trevize. “I turned the blaster into a mild heat ray.”</p>
     <p>He sprayed the heat all around the edge of the lock and the green vanished at the touch. All of it. He struck the mainlock to create a vibration that would knock off what remained and a brown dust fell to the ground—a dust so fine that it even lingered in the thin atmosphere, buoyed up by wisps of gas.</p>
     <p>“I think we can open it now,” said Trevize, and, using his wrist controls, he tapped out the emission of the radio-wave combination that activated the opening mechanism from inside. The lock gaped and had not opened more than halfway when Trevize said, “Don’t dawdle, Janov, get inside. —Don’t wait for the steps. Climb in.”</p>
     <p>Trevize followed, sprayed the rim of the lock with his toned-down blaster. He sprayed the steps, too, once they had lowered. He then signaled the close of the lock and kept on spraying till they were totally enclosed.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “We’re in the lock, Bliss. We’ll stay here a few minutes. Continue to do nothing!”</p>
     <p>Bliss’s voice said, “Give me a hint. Are you all right? How is Pel?”</p>
     <p>Pel said, “I’m here, Bliss, and perfectly well. There’s nothing to worry about.”</p>
     <p>“If you say so, Pel, but there’ll have to be explanations later. I hope you know that.”</p>
     <p>“It’s a promise,” said Trevize, and activated the lock light.</p>
     <p>The two space-suited figures faced each other.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “We’re pumping out all the planetary air we can, so let’s just wait till that’s done.”</p>
     <p>“What about the ship air? Are we going to let that in?”</p>
     <p>“Not for a while. I’m as anxious to get out of the space suit as you are, Janov. I just want to make sure that we get rid of any spores that have entered with us—or upon us.”</p>
     <p>By the not entirely satisfactory illumination of the lock light, Trevize turned his blaster on the inner meeting of lock and hull, spraying the heat methodically along the floor, up and around, and back to the floor.</p>
     <p>“Now you, Janov.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat stirred uneasily, and Trevize said, “You may feel warm. It shouldn’t be any worse than that. If it grows uncomfortable, just say so.”</p>
     <p>He played the invisible beam over the face-plate, the edges particularly, then, little by little, over the rest of the space suit.</p>
     <p>He muttered, “Lift your arms, Janov.” Then, “Rest your arms on my shoulder, and lift one foot—I’ve got to do the soles—now the other. —Are you getting too warm?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I’m not exactly bathed in cool breezes, Golan.”</p>
     <p>“Well, then, give me a taste of my own medicine. Go over me.”</p>
     <p>“I’ve never held a blaster.”</p>
     <p>“You <emphasis>must</emphasis> hold it. Grip it so, and, with your thumb, push that little knob—and squeeze the holster tightly. Right. —Now play it over my face-plate. Move it steadily, Janov, don’t let it linger in one place too long. Over the rest of the helmet, then down the cheek and neck.”</p>
     <p>He kept up the directions, and when he had been heated everywhere and was in an uncomfortable perspiration as a result, he took back the blaster and studied the energy level.</p>
     <p>“More than half gone,” he said, and sprayed the interior of the lock methodically, back and forth over the wall, till the blaster was emptied of its charge, having itself heated markedly through its rapid and sustained discharge. He then restored it to its holster.</p>
     <p>Only then did he signal for entry into the ship. He welcomed the hiss and feel of air coming into the lock as the inner door opened. Its coolness and its convective powers would carry off the warmth of the space suit far more quickly than radiation alone would do. It might have been imagination, but he felt the cooling effect at once. Imagination or not, he welcomed that, too.</p>
     <p>“Off with your suit, Janov, and leave it out here in the lock,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“If you don’t mind,” said Pelorat, “a shower is what I would like to have before anything else.”</p>
     <p>“Not before anything else. In fact, before that, and before you can empty your bladder, even, I suspect you will have to talk to Bliss.”</p>
     <p>Bliss was waiting for them, of course, and with a look of concern on her face. Behind her, peeping out, was Fallom, with her hands clutching firmly at Bliss’s left arm.</p>
     <p>“What happened?” Bliss asked severely. “What’s been going on?”</p>
     <p>“Guarding against infection,” said Trevize dryly, “so I’ll be turning on the ultraviolet radiation. Break out the dark glasses. Please don’t delay.”</p>
     <p>With ultraviolet added to the wall illumination, Trevize took off his moist garments one by one and shook them out, turning them in one direction and another.</p>
     <p>“Just a precaution,” he said. “You do it, too, Janov. —And, Bliss, I’ll have to peel altogether. If that will make you uncomfortable, step into the next room.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “It will neither make me uncomfortable, nor embarrass me. I have a good notion of what you look like, and it will surely present me with nothing new. —What infection?”</p>
     <p>“Just a little something that, given its own way,” said Trevize, with a deliberate air of indifference, “could do great damage to humanity, I think.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>68.</p>
     </title>
     <p>It was all done. The ultraviolet light had done its part. Officially, according to the complex films of information and instructions that had come with the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> when Trevize had first gone aboard back on Terminus, the light was there precisely for purposes of disinfection. Trevize suspected, however, that the temptation was always there, and sometimes yielded to, to use it for developing a fashionable tan for those who were from worlds where tans were fashionable. The light was, however, disinfecting, however used.</p>
     <p>They took the ship up into space and Trevize maneuvered it as close to Melpomenia’s sun as he might without making them all unpleasantly uncomfortable, turning and twisting the vessel so as to make sure that its entire surface was drenched in ultraviolet.</p>
     <p>Finally, they rescued the two space suits that had been left in the lock and examined them until even Trevize was satisfied.</p>
     <p>“All that,” said Bliss, at last, “for moss. Isn’t that what you said it was, Trevize? Moss?”</p>
     <p>“I call it moss,” said Trevize, “because that’s what it reminded me of. I’m not a botanist, however. All I can say is that it’s intensely green and can probably make do on very little light-energy.”</p>
     <p>“Why very little?”</p>
     <p>“The moss is sensitive to ultraviolet and can’t grow, or even survive, in direct illumination. Its spores are everywhere and it grows in hidden corners, in cracks in statuary, on the bottom surface of structures, feeding on the energy of scattered photons of light wherever there is a source of carbon dioxide.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “I take it you think they’re dangerous.”</p>
     <p>“They might well be. If some of the spores were clinging to us when we entered, or swirled in with us, they would find illumination in plenty without the harmful ultraviolet. They would find ample water and an unending supply of carbon dioxide.”</p>
     <p>“Only 0.03 percent of our atmosphere,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“A great deal to them—and 4 percent in our exhaled breath. What if spores grew in our nostrils, and on our skin? What if they decomposed and destroyed our food? What if they produced toxins that killed us? Even if we labored to kill them but left some spores alive, they would be enough, when carried to another world by us, to infest it, and from there be carried to other worlds. Who knows what damage they might do?”</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head. “Life is not necessarily dangerous because it is different. You are so ready to kill.”</p>
     <p>“That’s Gaia speaking,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Of course it is, but I hope I make sense, nevertheless. The moss is adapted to the conditions of this world. Just as it makes use of light in small quantities but is killed by large; it makes use of occasional tiny whiffs of carbon dioxide and may be killed by large amounts. It may not be capable of surviving on any world but Melpomenia.”</p>
     <p>“Would you want me to take a chance on that?” demanded Trevize.</p>
     <p>Bliss shrugged. “Very well. Don’t be defensive. I see your point. Being an Isolate, you probably had no choice but to do what you did.”</p>
     <p>Trevize would have answered, but Fallom’s clear high-pitched voice broke in, in her own language.</p>
     <p>Trevize said to Pelorat, “What’s she saying?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat began, “What Fallom is saying—”</p>
     <p>Fallom, however, as though remembering a moment too late that her own language was not easily understood, began again. “Was there Jemby there where you were?”</p>
     <p>The words were pronounced meticulously, and Bliss beamed. “Doesn’t she speak Galactic well? And in almost no time.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, in a low voice, “I’ll mess it up if I try, but you explain to her, Bliss, that we found no robots on the planet.”</p>
     <p>“I’ll explain it,” said Pelorat. “Come, Fallom.” He placed a gentle arm about the youngester’s shoulders. “Come to our room and I’ll get you another book to read.”</p>
     <p>“A book? About Jemby?”</p>
     <p>“Not exactly—” And the door closed behind them.</p>
     <p>“You know,” said Trevize, looking after them impatiently, “we waste our time playing nursemaid to that child.”</p>
     <p>“Waste? In what way does it interfere with your search for Earth, Trevize? —In no way. Playing nursemaid establishes communication, however, allays fear, supplies love. Are these achievements nothing?”</p>
     <p>“That’s Gaia speaking again.”</p>
     <p>“Yes,” said Bliss. “Let us be practical, then. We have visited three of the old Spacer worlds and we have gained nothing.”</p>
     <p>Trevize nodded. “True enough.”</p>
     <p>“In fact, we have found each one dangerous, haven’t we? On Aurora, there were feral dogs; on Solaria, strange and dangerous human beings; on Melpomenia, a threatening moss. Apparently, then, when a world is left to itself, whether it contains human beings or not, it becomes dangerous to the interstellar community.”</p>
     <p>“You can’t consider that a general rule.”</p>
     <p>“Three out of three certainly seems impressive.”</p>
     <p>“And how does it impress you, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“I’ll tell you. Please listen to me with an open mind. If you have millions of interacting worlds in the Galaxy, as is, of course, the actual case, and if each is made up entirely of Isolates, as they are, then on each world, human beings are dominant and can force their will on nonhuman life-forms, on the inanimate geological background, and even on each other. The Galaxy is, then, a very primitive and fumbling and misfunctioning Galaxia. The beginnings of a unit. Do you see what I mean?”</p>
     <p>“I see what you’re trying to say—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to agree with you when you’re done saying it.”</p>
     <p>“Just listen to me. Agree or not, as you please, but listen. The only way the Galaxy will work is as a proto-Galaxia, and the less proto and the more Galaxia, the better. The Galactic Empire was an attempt at a strong proto-Galaxia, and when it fell apart, times grew rapidly worse and there was the constant drive to strengthen the proto-Galaxia concept. The Foundation Confederation is such an attempt. So was the Mule’s Empire. So is the Empire the Second Foundation is planning. But even if there were no such Empires or Confederations; even if the entire Galaxy were in turmoil, it would be a connected turmoil, with each world interacting, even if only hostilely, with every other. That would, in itself, be a kind of union and it would not yet be the worst case.”</p>
     <p>“What would be the worst, then?”</p>
     <p>“You know the answer to that, Trevize. You’ve seen it. If a human-inhabited world breaks up completely, is truly Isolate, and if it loses all interaction with other human worlds, it develops—malignantly.”</p>
     <p>“A cancer, then?”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>Yes</emphasis>. Isn’t Solaria just that? Its hand is against all worlds. And on it, the hand of each individual is against those of all others. You’ve seen it. And if human beings disappear altogether, the last trace of discipline goes. The each-against-each becomes unreasoning, as with the dogs, or is merely an elemental force as with the moss. You see, I suppose, that the closer we are to Galaxia, the better the society. Why, then, stop at anything short of Galaxia?”</p>
     <p>For a while, Trevize stared silently at Bliss. “I’m thinking about it. But why this assumption that dosage is a one-way thing; that if a little is good, a lot is better, and all there is is best of all? Didn’t you yourself point out that it’s possible the moss is adapted to very little carbon dioxide so that a plentiful supply might kill it? A human being two meters tall is better off than one who is one meter tall; but is also better off than one who is three meters tall. A mouse isn’t better off, if it is expanded to the size of an elephant. He wouldn’t live. Nor would an elephant be better off reduced to the size of a mouse.</p>
     <p>“There’s natural size, a natural complexity, some optimum quality for everything, whether star or atom, and it’s certainly true of living things and living societies. I don’t say the old Galactic Empire was ideal, and I can certainly see flaws in the Foundation Confederation, but I’m not prepared to say that because total Isolation is bad, total Unification is good. The extremes may both be equally horrible, and an old-fashioned Galactic Empire, however imperfect, may be the best we can do.”</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head. “I wonder if you believe yourself, Trevize. Are you going to argue that a virus and a human being are equally unsatisfactory, and wish to settle for something in-between—like a slime mold?”</p>
     <p>“No. But I might argue that a virus and a superhuman being are equally unsatisfactory, and wish to settle for something in-between—like an ordinary person. —There is, however, no point in arguing. I will have my solution when I find Earth. On Melpomenia, we found the co-ordinates of forty-seven other Spacer worlds.”</p>
     <p>“And you’ll visit them all?”</p>
     <p>“Every one, if I have to.”</p>
     <p>“Risking the dangers on each.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, if that’s what it takes to find Earth.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat had emerged from the room within which he had left Fallom, and seemed about to say something when he was caught up in the rapid-fire exchange between Bliss and Trevize. He stared from one to the other as they spoke in turn.</p>
     <p>“How long would it take?” asked Bliss.</p>
     <p>“However long it takes,” said Trevize, “and we might find what we need on the next one we visit.”</p>
     <p>“Or on none of them.”</p>
     <p>“That we cannot know till we search.”</p>
     <p>And now, at last, Pelorat managed to insert a word. “But why look, Golan? We have the answer.”</p>
     <p>Trevize waved an impatient hand in the direction of Pelorat, checked the motion, turned his head, and said blankly, “What?”</p>
     <p>“I said we have the answer. I tried to tell you this on Melpomenia at least five times, but you were so wrapped up in what you were doing—”</p>
     <p>“What answer do we have? What are you talking about?”</p>
     <p>“About <emphasis>Earth</emphasis>. I think we know where Earth is.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
  </section>
  <section>
   <title>
    <p>PART VI</p>
    <p>ALPHA</p>
   </title>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>16</p>
     <p>THE CENTER OF THE WORLDS</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>69.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize stared at Pelorat for a long moment, and with an expression of clear displeasure. Then he said, “Is there something you saw that I did not, and that you did not tell me about?”</p>
     <p>“No,” answered Pelorat mildly. “You saw it and, as I just said, I tried to explain, but you were in no mood to listen to me.”</p>
     <p>“Well, try again.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Don’t bully him, Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not bullying him. I’m asking for information. And don’t you baby him.”</p>
     <p>“Please,” said Pelorat, “listen to me, will you, and not to each other. —Do you remember, Golan, that we discussed early attempts to discover the origin of the human species? Yariff’s project? You know, trying to plot the times of settlement of various planets on the assumption that planets would be settled outward from the world of origin in all directions alike. Then, as we moved from newer to older planets, we would approach the world of origin from all directions.”</p>
     <p>Trevize nodded impatiently. “What I remember is that it didn’t work because the dates of settlement were not reliable.”</p>
     <p>“That’s right, old fellow. But the worlds that Yariff was working with were part of the second expansion of the human race. By then, hyperspatial travel was far advanced, and settlement must have grown quite ragged. Leapfrogging very long distances was very simple and settlement didn’t necessarily proceed outward in radial symmetry. That surely added to the problem of unreliable dates of settlement.</p>
     <p>“But just think for a moment, Golan, of the Spacer worlds. They were in the first wave of settlement. Hyperspatial travel was less advanced then, and there was probably little or no leapfrogging. Whereas millions of worlds were settled, perhaps chaotically, during the second expansion, only fifty were settled, probably in an orderly manner, in the first. Whereas the millions of worlds of the second expansion were settled over a period of twenty thousand years; the fifty of the first expansion were settled over a period of a few centuries—almost instantaneously, in comparison. Those fifty, taken together, should exist in roughly spherical symmetry about the world of origin.</p>
     <p>“We have the co-ordinates of the fifty worlds. You photographed them, remember, from the statue. Whatever or whoever it is that is destroying information that concerns Earth, either overlooked those co-ordinates, or didn’t stop to think that they would give us the information we need. All you have to do, Golan, is to adjust the co-ordinates to allow for the last twenty thousand years of stellar motions, then find the center of the sphere. You’ll end up fairly close to Earth’s sun, or at least to where it was twenty thousand years ago.”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s mouth had fallen slightly open during the recital and it took a few moments for him to close it after Pelorat was done. He said, “Now why didn’t <emphasis>I</emphasis> think of that?”</p>
     <p>“I tried to tell you while we were still on Melpomenia.”</p>
     <p>“I’m sure you did. I apologize, Janov, for refusing to listen. The fact is it didn’t occur to me that—” He paused in embarrassment.</p>
     <p>Pelorat chuckled quietly, “That I could have anything of importance to say. I suppose that ordinarily I wouldn’t, but this was something in my own field, you see. I am sure that, as a general rule, you’d be perfectly justified in not listening to me.”</p>
     <p>“Never,” said Trevize. “That’s not so, Janov. I feel like a fool, and I well deserve the feeling. My apologies again—and I must now get to the computer.”</p>
     <p>He and Pelorat walked into the pilot-room, and Pelorat, as always, watched with a combination of marveling and incredulity as Trevize’s hands settled down upon the desk, and he became what was almost a single man/computer organism.</p>
     <p>“I’ll have to make certain assumptions, Janov,” said Trevize, rather blank-faced from computer-absorption. “I have to assume that the first number is a distance in parsecs, and that the other two numbers are angles in radians, the first being up and down, so to speak, and the other, right and left. I have to assume that the use of plus and minus in the case of the angles is Galactic Standard and that the zero-zero-zero mark is Melpomenia’s sun.”</p>
     <p>“That sounds fair enough,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Does it? There are six possible ways of arranging the numbers, four possible ways of arranging the signs, distances may be in light-years rather than parsecs, the angles in degrees, rather than radians. That’s ninety-six different variations right there. Add to that, the point that if the distances are light-years, I’m uncertain as to the length of the year used. Add also the fact that I don’t know the actual conventions used to measure the angles—from the Melpomenian equator in one case, I suppose, but what’s their prime meridian?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat frowned. “Now you make it sound hopeless.”</p>
     <p>“Not hopeless. Aurora and Solaria are included in the list, and I know where they are in space. I’ll use the co-ordinates, and see if I can locate them. If I end up in the wrong place, I will adjust the co-ordinates until they give me the right place, and that will tell me what mistaken assumptions I am making as far as the standards governing the co-ordinates are concerned. Once my assumptions are corrected, I can look for the center of the sphere.”</p>
     <p>“With all the possibilities for change, won’t it make it difficult to decide what to do?”</p>
     <p>“What?” said Trevize. He was increasingly absorbed. Then, when Pelorat repeated the question, he said, “Oh well, chances are that the co-ordinates follow the Galactic Standard and adjusting for an unknown prime meridian isn’t difficult. These systems for locating points in space were worked out long ago, and most astronomers are pretty confident they even antedate interstellar travel. Human beings are very conservative in some ways and virtually never change numerical conventions once they grow used to them. They even come to mistake them for laws of nature, I think. —Which is just as well, for if every world had its own conventions of measurement that changed every century, I honestly think scientific endeavor would stall and come to a permanent stop.”</p>
     <p>He was obviously working while he was talking, for his words came haltingly. And now he muttered, “But quiet now.”</p>
     <p>After that, his face grew furrowed and concentrated until, after several minutes, he leaned back and drew a long breath. He said quietly, “The conventions hold. I’ve located Aurora. There’s no question about it. —See?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat stared at the field of stars, and at the bright one near the center and said, “Are you sure?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “My own opinion doesn’t matter. The <emphasis>computer</emphasis> is sure. We’ve visited Aurora, after all. We have its characteristics—its diameter, mass, luminosity, temperature, spectral details, to say nothing of the pattern of neighboring stars. The computer says it’s Aurora.”</p>
     <p>“Then I suppose we must take its word for it.”</p>
     <p>“Believe me, we must. Let me adjust the view-screen and the computer can get to work. It has the fifty sets of co-ordinates and it will use them one at a time.”</p>
     <p>Trevize was working on the screen as he spoke. The computer worked in the four dimensions of space-time routinely, but, for human inspection, the viewscreen was rarely needed in more than two dimensions. Now the screen seemed to unfold into a dark volume as deep as it was tall and broad. Trevize dimmed the room lights almost totally to make the view of star-shine easier to observe.</p>
     <p>“It will begin now,” he whispered.</p>
     <p>A moment later, a star appeared—then another—then another. The view on the screen shifted with every addition so that all might be included. It was as though space was moving backward from the eye so that a more and more panoramic view could be taken. Combine that with shifts up or down, right or left—</p>
     <p>Eventually, fifty dots of light appeared, hovering in three-dimensional space.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I would have appreciated a beautiful spherical arrangement, but this looks like the skeleton of a snowball that had been patted into shape in a big hurry, out of snow that was too hard and gritty.”</p>
     <p>“Does that ruin everything?”</p>
     <p>“It introduces some difficulties, but that can’t be helped, I suppose. The stars themselves aren’t uniformly distributed, and certainly habitable planets aren’t, so there are bound to be unevennesses in the establishment of new worlds. The computer will adjust each of those dots to its present position, allowing for its likely motion in the last twenty thousand years—even in that time it won’t mean much of an adjustment—and then fit them all into a ‘best-sphere.’ It will find a spherical surface, in other words, from which the distance of all the dots is a minimum. Then we find the center of the sphere, and Earth should be fairly close to that center. Or so we hope. —It won’t take long.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>70.</p>
     </title>
     <p>It didn’t. Trevize, who was used to accepting miracles from the computer, found himself astonished at how little time it took.</p>
     <p>Trevize had instructed the computer to sound a soft, reverberating note upon deciding upon the coordinates of the best-center. There was no reason for that, except for the satisfaction of hearing it and knowing that perhaps the search had been ended.</p>
     <p>The sound came in a matter of minutes, and was like the gentle stroking of a mellow gong. It swelled till they could feel the vibration physically, and then slowly faded.</p>
     <p>Bliss appeared at the door almost at once. “What’s that?” she asked, her eyes big. “An emergency?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Not at all.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat added eagerly, “We may have located Earth, Bliss. That sound was the computer’s way of saying so.”</p>
     <p>She walked into the room. “I might have been warned.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I’m sorry, Bliss. I didn’t mean it to be quite that loud.”</p>
     <p>Fallom had followed Bliss into the room and said, “Why was there that sound, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“I see she’s curious, too,” said Trevize. He sat back, feeling drained. The next step was to try the finding on the real Galaxy, to focus on the coordinates of the center of the Spacer worlds and see if a G-type star was actually present. Once again, he was reluctant to take the obvious step, unable to make himself put the possible solution to the actual test.</p>
     <p>“Yes,” said Bliss. “Why shouldn’t she be? She’s as human as we are.”</p>
     <p>“Her parent wouldn’t have thought so,” said Trevize abstractedly. “I worry about the kid. She’s bad news.”</p>
     <p>“In what way has she proven so?” demanded Bliss.</p>
     <p>Trevize spread his arms. “Just a feeling.”</p>
     <p>Bliss gave him a disdainful look, and turned to Fallom. “We are trying to locate Earth, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“What’s Earth?”</p>
     <p>“Another world, but a special one. It’s the world our ancestors came from. Do you know what the word ‘ancestors’ means from your reading, Fallom?”</p>
     <p>“Does it mean——?” But the last word was not in Galactic.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “That’s an archaic word for ‘ancestors,’ Bliss. Our word ‘forebears’ is closer to it.”</p>
     <p>“Very well,” said Bliss, with a sudden brilliant smile. “Earth is the world where our forebears came from, Fallom. Yours and mine and Pel’s and Trevize’s.”</p>
     <p>“Yours, Bliss—and mine also.” Fallom sounded puzzled. “Both of them?”</p>
     <p>“There’s just one set of forebears,” said Bliss. “We had the same forebears, all of us.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “It sounds to me as though the child knows very well that she’s different from us.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said to Trevize in a low voice, “Don’t say that. She must be made to see she isn’t. Not in essentials.”</p>
     <p>“Hermaphrodism is essential, I should think.”</p>
     <p>“I’m talking about the mind.”</p>
     <p>“Transducer-lobes are essential, too.”</p>
     <p>“Now, Trevize, don’t be difficult. She’s intelligent and human regardless of details.”</p>
     <p>She turned to Fallom, her voice rising to its normal level. “Think quietly about this, Fallom, and see what it means to you. Your forebears and mine were the same. All the people on all the worlds—many, many worlds—all had the same forebears, and those forebears lived originally on the world named Earth. That means we’re all relatives, doesn’t it? —Now go back to our room and think of that.”</p>
     <p>Fallom, after bestowing a thoughtful look on Trevize, turned and ran off, hastened on by Bliss’s affectionate slap on her backside.</p>
     <p>Bliss turned to Trevize, and said, “Please, Trevize, promise me you won’t make any comments in her hearing that will lead her to think she’s different from us.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I promise. I have no wish to impede or subvert the educational procedure, but, you know, she <emphasis>is</emphasis> different from us.”</p>
     <p>“In ways. As I’m different from you, and as Pel is.”</p>
     <p>“Don’t be naive, Bliss. The differences in Fallom’s case are much greater.”</p>
     <p>“A <emphasis>little</emphasis> greater. The similarities are vastly more important. She, and her people, will be part of Galaxia some day, and a very useful part, I’m sure.”</p>
     <p>“All right. We won’t argue.” He turned to the computer with clear reluctance. “And meanwhile, I’m afraid I have to check the supposed position of Earth in real space.”</p>
     <p>“Afraid?”</p>
     <p>“Well,” Trevize lifted his shoulders in what he hoped was a half-humorous way, “what if there’s no suitable star near the place?”</p>
     <p>“Then there isn’t,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“I’m wondering if there’s any point in checking it out now. We won’t be able to make a Jump for several days.”</p>
     <p>“And you’ll be spending them agonizing over the possibilities. Find out now. Waiting won’t change matters.”</p>
     <p>Trevize sat there with his lips compressed for a moment, then said, “You’re right. Very well, then—here goes.”</p>
     <p>He turned to the computer, placed his hands on the handmarks on the desk, and the viewscreen went dark.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “I’ll leave you, then. I’ll make you nervous if I stay.” She left, with a wave of her hand.</p>
     <p>“The thing is,” he muttered, “that we’re going to be checking the computer’s Galactic map first and even if Earth’s sun is in the calculated position, the map should not include it. But we’ll then—”</p>
     <p>His voice trailed off in astonishment as the view-screen flashed with a background of stars. These were fairly numerous and dim, with an occasional brighter one sparkling here and there, well scattered over the face of the screen. But quite close to the center was a star that was brighter than all the rest.</p>
     <p>“We’ve got it,” said Pelorat jubilantly. “We’ve got it, old chap. Look how bright it is.”</p>
     <p>“Any star at centered co-ordinates would look bright,” said Trevize, clearly trying to fight off any initial jubilation that might prove unfounded. “The view, after all, is presented from a distance of a parsec from the centered co-ordinates. Still, that centered star certainly isn’t a red dwarf, or a red giant, or a hot blue-white. Wait for information; the computer is checking its data banks.”</p>
     <p>There was silence for a few seconds and then Trevize said, “Spectral class G-2.” Another pause, then, “Diameter, 1.4 million kilometers—mass, 1.02 times that of Terminus’s sun—surface temperature, 6,000 absolute—rotation slow, just under thirty days—no unusual activity or irregularity.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Isn’t all that typical of the kind of star about which habitable planets are to be found?”</p>
     <p>“Typical,” said Trevize, nodding in the dimness. “And, therefore, what we’d expect Earth’s sun to be like. If that is where life developed, the sun of Earth would have set the original standard.”</p>
     <p>“So there is a reasonable chance that there would be a habitable planet circling it.”</p>
     <p>“We don’t have to speculate about that,” said Trevize, who sounded puzzled indeed over the matter. “The Galactic map lists it as possessing a planet with human life—but with a question mark.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat’s enthusiasm grew. “That’s exactly what we would expect, Golan. The life-bearing planet is there, but the attempt to hide the fact obscures data concerning it and leaves the makers of the map the computer uses uncertain.”</p>
     <p>“No, that’s what bothers me,” said Trevize. “That’s <emphasis>not</emphasis> what we should expect. We should expect far more than that. Considering the efficiency with which data concerning Earth has been wiped out, the makers of the map should not have known that life exists in the system, let alone human life. They should not even have known Earth’s sun exists. The Spacer worlds aren’t on the map. Why should Earth’s sun be?”</p>
     <p>“Well, it’s there, just the same. What’s the use of arguing the fact? What other information about the star is given?”</p>
     <p>“A name.”</p>
     <p>“Ah! What is it?”</p>
     <p>“Alpha.”</p>
     <p>There was a short pause, then Pelorat said eagerly, “That’s it, old man. That’s the final bit of evidence. Consider the meaning.”</p>
     <p>“Does it have a meaning?” said Trevize. “It’s just a name to me, and an odd one. It doesn’t sound Galactic.”</p>
     <p>“It <emphasis>isn’t</emphasis> Galactic. It’s in a prehistoric language of Earth, the same one that gave us Gaia as the name of Bliss’s planet.”</p>
     <p>“What does Alpha mean, then?”</p>
     <p>“Alpha is the first letter of the alphabet of that ancient language. That is one of the most firmly attested scraps of knowledge we have about it. In ancient times, ‘alpha’ was sometimes used to mean the first of anything. To call a sun ‘Alpha,’ implies that it’s the first sun. And wouldn’t the first sun be the one around which a planet revolved that was the first planet to bear human life—Earth?”</p>
     <p>“Are you sure of that?”</p>
     <p>“Absolutely,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Is there anything in early legends—you’re the mythologist, after all—that gives Earth’s sun some very unusual attribute?”</p>
     <p>“No, how can there be? It has to be standard by definition, and the characteristics the computer has given us are as standard as possible, I imagine. Aren’t they?”</p>
     <p>“Earth’s sun is a single star, I suppose?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Well, of course! As far as I know, all inhabited worlds orbit single stars.”</p>
     <p>“So I would have thought myself,” said Trevize. “The trouble is that that star in the center of the view-screen is not a single star; it is a binary. The brighter of the two stars making up the binary is indeed standard and it is that one for which the computer supplied us with data. Circling that star with a period of roughly eighty years, however, is another star with a mass four fifths that of the brighter one. We can’t see the two as separate stars with the unaided eye, but if I were to enlarge the view, I’m sure we would.”</p>
     <p>“Are you certain of that, Golan?” said Pelorat, taken aback.</p>
     <p>“It’s what the computer is telling me. And if we are looking at a binary star, then it’s not Earth’s sun. It can’t be.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>71.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize broke contact with the computer, and the lights brightened.</p>
     <p>That was the signal, apparently, for Bliss to return, with Fallom tagging after her. “Well, then, what are the results?” she asked.</p>
     <p>Trevize said tonelessly, “Somewhat disappointing. Where I expected to find Earth’s sun, I found a binary star, instead. Earth’s sun is a single star, so the one centered is not it.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Now what, Golan?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “I didn’t really expect to see Earth’s sun centered. Even the Spacers wouldn’t settle worlds in such a way as to set up an exact sphere. Aurora, the oldest of the Spacer worlds, might have sent out settlers of its own and that may have distorted the sphere, too. Then, too, Earth’s sun may not have moved at precisely the average velocity of the Spacer worlds.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “So the Earth can be anywhere. Is that what you’re saying?”</p>
     <p>“No. Not quite ‘anywhere.’ All these possible sources of error can’t amount to much. Earth’s sun must be in the <emphasis>vicinity</emphasis> of the co-ordinates. The star we’ve spotted almost exactly at the co-ordinates must be a neighbor of Earth’s sun. It’s startling that there should be a neighbor that so closely resembles Earth’s sun—except for being a binary—but that must be the case.”</p>
     <p>“But we would see Earth’s sun on the map, then, wouldn’t we? I mean, near Alpha?”</p>
     <p>“No, for I’m certain Earth’s sun isn’t on the map at all. It was that which shook my confidence when we first spied Alpha. Regardless of how much it might resemble Earth’s sun, the mere fact that it was on the map made me suspect it was not the real thing.”</p>
     <p>“Well, then,” said Bliss. “Why not concentrate on the same co-ordinates in real space? Then, if there is any bright star close to the center, a star that does not exist in the computer’s map, and if it is very much like Alpha in its properties, but is single, might it not be Earth’s sun?”</p>
     <p>Trevize sighed. “If all that were so, I’d be willing to wager half my fortune, such as it is, that circling that star you speak of would be the planet Earth. —Again, I hesitate to try.”</p>
     <p>“Because you might fail?”</p>
     <p>Trevize nodded. “However,” he said, “just give me a moment or two to catch my breath, and I’ll force myself to do so.”</p>
     <p>And while the three adults looked at each other, Fallom approached the computer-desk and stared curiously at the handmarks upon it. She reached out her own hand tentatively toward the markings, and Trevize blocked the motion with a swift outthrusting of his own arm and a sharp, “Mustn’t touch, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>The young Solarian seemed startled, and retreated to the comfort of Bliss’s encircling arm.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “We must face it, Golan. What if you find nothing in real space?”</p>
     <p>“Then we will be forced to go back to the earlier plan,” said Trevize, “and visit each of the forty-seven Spacer worlds in turn.”</p>
     <p>“And if that yields nothing, Golan?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shook his head in annoyance, as though to prevent that thought from taking too deep a root. Staring down at his knees, he said abruptly, “Then I will think of something else.”</p>
     <p>“But what if there is no world of forebears at all?”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked up sharply at the treble voice. “Who said that?” he asked.</p>
     <p>It was a useless question. The moment of disbelief faded, and he knew very well who the questioner was.</p>
     <p>“I did,” said Fallom.</p>
     <p>Trevize looked at her with a slight frown. “Did you understand the conversation?”</p>
     <p>Fallom said, “You are looking for the world of forebears, but you haven’t found it yet. Maybe there isn’t no such world.”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>Any</emphasis> such world,” said Bliss softly.</p>
     <p>“No, Fallom,” said Trevize seriously. “There has been a very big effort to hide it. To try so hard to hide something means there is something there to hide. Do you understand what I am saying?”</p>
     <p>“Yes,” said Fallom. “You do not let me touch the hands on the desk. Because you do not let me do that means it would be interesting to touch them.”</p>
     <p>“Ah, but not for you, Fallom. —Bliss, you are creating a monster that will destroy us all. Don’t ever let her in here unless I’m at the desk. And even then, think twice, will you?”</p>
     <p>The small byplay, however, seemed to have shaken him out of his irresolution. He said, “Obviously, I had better get to work. If I just sit here, uncertain as to what to do, that little fright will take over the ship.”</p>
     <p>The lights dimmed, and Bliss said in a low voice, “You promised, Trevize. Do not call her a monster or a fright in her hearing.”</p>
     <p>“Then keep an eye on her, and teach her some manners. Tell her children should be never heard and seldom seen.”</p>
     <p>Bliss frowned. “Your attitude toward children is simply appalling, Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“Maybe, but this is not the time to discuss the matter.”</p>
     <p>Then he said, in tones in which satisfaction and relief were equally represented, “There’s Alpha again in real space. —And to its left, and slightly upward, is almost as bright a star and one that isn’t in the computer’s Galactic map. <emphasis>That</emphasis> is Earth’s sun. I’ll wager <emphasis>all</emphasis> my fortune on it.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>72.</p>
     </title>
     <p>“Well, now,” said Bliss, “We won’t take any part of your fortune if you lose, so why not settle the matter in a forthright manner? Let’s visit the star as soon as you can make the Jump.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shook his head. “No. This time it’s not a matter of irresolution or fear. It’s a matter of being careful. Three times we’ve visited an unknown world and three times we’ve come up against something unexpectedly dangerous. And three times, moreover, we’ve had to leave that world in a hurry. This time the matter is ultimately crucial and I will not play my cards in ignorance again, or at least in any more ignorance than I can help. So far, all we have are vague stories about radioactivity, and that is not enough. By an odd chance that no one could have anticipated, there is a planet with human life about a parsec from Earth—”</p>
     <p>“Do we really know that Alpha has a planet with human life on it?” put in Pelorat. “You said the computer placed a question mark after that.”</p>
     <p>“Even so,” said Trevize, “it’s worth trying. Why not take a look at it? If it does indeed have human beings on it, let us find out what they know about Earth. For them, after all, Earth is not a distant thing of legend; it is a neighbor world, bright and prominent in their sky.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said thoughtfully, “It’s not a bad idea. It occurs to me that if Alpha is inhabited and if the inhabitants are not your thoroughly typical Isolates, they may be friendly, and we might be able to get some decent food for a change.”</p>
     <p>“And meet some pleasant people,” said Trevize. “Don’t forget that. Will it be all right with you, Janov?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “You make the decision, old chap. Wherever you go, I will go, too.”</p>
     <p>Fallom said suddenly, “Will we find Jemby?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said hastily, before Trevize could answer, “We will look for it, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>And then Trevize said, “It’s settled then. On to Alpha.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>73.</p>
     </title>
     <p>“Two big stars,” said Fallom, pointing to the viewscreen.</p>
     <p>“That’s right,” said Trevize. “Two of them. —Bliss, do keep an eye on her. I don’t want her fiddling with anything.”</p>
     <p>“She’s fascinated by machinery,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“Yes, I know she is,” said Trevize, “but I’m not fascinated by her fascination. —Though to tell you the truth, I’m as fascinated as she is at seeing two stars that bright in the viewscreen at the same time.”</p>
     <p>The two stars were bright enough to seem to be on the point of showing a disc—each of them. The screen had automatically increased filtration density in order to remove the hard radiation and dim the light of the bright stars so as to avoid retinal damage. As a result, few other stars were bright enough to be noticeable, and the two that were reigned in haughty near-isolation.</p>
     <p>“The thing is,” said Trevize, “I’ve never been this close to a binary system before.”</p>
     <p>“You haven’t?” said Pelorat, open astonishment in his voice. “How is that possible?”</p>
     <p>Trevize laughed. “I’ve been around, Janov, but I’m not the Galactic rover you think I am.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I was never in space at all till I met you, Golan, but I always thought that anyone who did manage to get into space—”</p>
     <p>“Would go everywhere. I know. That’s natural enough. The trouble with planet-bound people is that no matter how much their mind may tell them otherwise, their imaginations just can’t take in the true size of the Galaxy. We could travel all our lives and leave most of the Galaxy unpenetrated and untouched. Besides, no one ever goes to binaries.”</p>
     <p>“Why not?” said Bliss, frowning. “We on Gaia know little astronomy compared to the traveling Isolates of the Galaxy, but I’m under the impression that binaries aren’t rare.”</p>
     <p>“They’re not,” said Trevize. “There are substantially more binaries than there are single stars. However, the formation of two stars in close association upsets the ordinary processes of planetary formation. Binaries have less planetary material than single stars do. Such planets as do form about them often have relatively unstable orbits and are very rarely of a type that is reasonably habitable.</p>
     <p>“Early explorers, I imagine, studied many binaries at close range but, after a while, for settlement purposes, they sought out only singles. And, of course, once you have a densely settled Galaxy, virtually all travel involves trade and communications and is carried on between inhabited worlds circling single stars. In periods of military activity, I suppose bases were sometimes set up on small, otherwise-uninhabited worlds circling one of the stars of a binary that happened to be strategically placed, but as hyperspatial travel came to be perfected, such bases were no longer necessary.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said humbly, “It’s amazing how much I don’t know.”</p>
     <p>Trevize merely grinned. “Don’t let that impress you, Janov. When I was in the Navy, we listened to an incredible number of lectures on outmoded military tactics that no one ever planned, or intended to use, and were just talked about out of inertia. I was just rattling off a bit of one of them. —Consider all you know about mythology, folklore, and archaic languages that I don’t know, and that only you and a very few others do know.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Yes, but those two stars make up a binary system and one of them has an inhabited planet circling it.”</p>
     <p>“We hope it does, Bliss,” said Trevize. “Everything has its exceptions. And with an official question mark in this case, which makes it more puzzling. —No, Fallom, those knobs are not toys. —Bliss, either keep her in handcuffs, or take her out.”</p>
     <p>“She won’t hurt anything,” said Bliss defensively, but pulled the Solarian youngster to herself just the same. “If you’re so interested in that habitable planet, why aren’t we there already?”</p>
     <p>“For one thing,” said Trevize, “I’m just human enough to want to see this sight of a binary system at close quarters. Then, too, I’m just human enough to be cautious. As I’ve already explained, nothing has happened since we left Gaia that would encourage me to be anything but cautious.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Which one of those stars is Alpha, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“We won’t get lost, Janov. The computer knows exactly which one is Alpha, and, for that matter, so do we. It’s the hotter and yellower of the two because it’s the larger. Now the one on the right has a distinct orange tinge to its light, rather like Aurora’s sun, if you recall. Do you notice?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, now that you call it to my attention.”</p>
     <p>“Very well. That’s the smaller one. —What’s the second letter of that ancient language you speak of?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat thought a moment, and said, “Beta.”</p>
     <p>“Then let’s call the orange one Beta and the yellow-white one Alpha, and it’s Alpha we’re heading for right now.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>17</p>
     <p>NEW EARTH</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>74.</p>
     </title>
     <p>“Four planets,” muttered Trevize. “All are small, plus a trailing off of asteroids. No gas giants.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Do you find that disappointing?”</p>
     <p>“Not really. It’s expected. Binaries that circle each other at small distances can have no planets circling one of the stars. Planets can circle the center of gravity of both, but it’s very unlikely that they would be habitable—too far away.</p>
     <p>“On the other hand if the binaries are reasonably separate, there can be planets in stable orbits about each, if they are close enough to one or the other of the stars. These two stars, according to the computer’s data bank, have an average separation of 3.5 billion kilometers and even at periastron, when they are closest together, are about 1.7 billion kilometers apart. A planet in an orbit of less than 200 million kilometers from either star would be stably situated, but there can be no planet with a larger orbit. That means no gas giants since they would have to be farther away from a star, but what’s the difference? Gas giants aren’t habitable, anyway.”</p>
     <p>“But one of those four planets might be habitable.”</p>
     <p>“Actually the second planet is the only real possibility. For one thing, it’s the only one of them large enough to have an atmosphere.”</p>
     <p>They approached the second planet rapidly and over a period of two days its image expanded; at first with a majestic and measured swelling. And then, when there was no sign of any ship emerging to intercept them, with increasing and almost frightening speed.</p>
     <p>The <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> was moving swiftly along a temporary orbit a thousand kilometers above the cloud cover, when Trevize said grimly, “I see why the computer’s memory banks put a question mark after the notation that it was inhabited. There’s no clear sign of radiation, either light in the night-hemisphere, or radio anywhere.”</p>
     <p>“The cloud cover seems pretty thick,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“That should not blank out radio radiation.”</p>
     <p>They watched the planet wheeling below them, a symphony in swirling white clouds, through occasional gaps of which a bluish wash indicated ocean.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “The cloud level is fairly heavy for an inhabited world. It might be a rather gloomy one. —What bothers me most,” he added, as they plunged once more into the night-shadow, “is that no space stations have hailed us.”</p>
     <p>“The way they did back at Comporellon, you mean?” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“The way they would in any inhabited world. We would have to stop for the usual checkup on papers, freight, length of stay, and so on.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Perhaps we missed the hail for some reason.”</p>
     <p>“Our computer would have received it at any wavelength they might have cared to use. And we’ve been sending out our own signals, but have roused no one and nothing as a result. Dipping under the cloud layer without communicating with station officials violates space courtesy, but I don’t see that we have a choice.”</p>
     <p>The <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> slowed, and strengthened its anti-gravity accordingly, so as to maintain its height. It came out into the sunlight again, and slowed further. Trevize, in co-ordination with the computer, found a sizable break in the clouds. The ship sank and passed through it. Beneath them heaved the ocean in what must have been a fresh breeze. It lay, wrinkled, several kilometers below them, faintly striped in lines of froth.</p>
     <p>They flew out of the sunlit patch and under the cloud cover. The expanse of water immediately beneath them turned a slate-gray, and the temperature dropped noticeably.</p>
     <p>Fallom, staring at the viewscreen, spoke in her own consonant-rich language for a few moments, then shifted to Galactic. Her voice trembled. “What is that which I see beneath?”</p>
     <p>“That is an ocean,” said Bliss soothingly. “It is a very large mass of water.”</p>
     <p>“Why does it not dry up?”</p>
     <p>Bliss looked at Trevize, who said, “There’s too much water for it to dry up.”</p>
     <p>Fallom said in a half-choked manner, “I don’t want all that water. Let us go away.” And then she shrieked, thinly, as the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> moved through a patch of storm clouds so that the viewscreen turned milky and was streaked with the mark of raindrops.</p>
     <p>The lights in the pilot-room dimmed and the ship’s motion became slightly jerky.</p>
     <p>Trevize looked up in surprise and cried out. “Bliss, your Fallom is old enough to transduce. She’s using electric power to try to manipulate the controls. Stop her!”</p>
     <p>Bliss put her arms about Fallom, and hugged her tightly, “It’s all right, Fallom, it’s all right. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just another world, that’s all. There are many like this.”</p>
     <p>Fallom relaxed somewhat but continued to tremble.</p>
     <p>Bliss said to Trevize, “The child has never seen an ocean, and perhaps, for all I know, never experienced fog or rain. Can’t you be sympathetic?”</p>
     <p>“Not if she tampers with the ship. She’s a danger to all of us, then. Take her into your room and calm her down.”</p>
     <p>Bliss nodded curtly.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I’ll come with you, Bliss.”</p>
     <p>“No, no, Pel,” she responded. “You stay here. I’ll soothe Fallom and you soothe Trevize.” And she left.</p>
     <p>“I don’t need soothing,” growled Trevize to Pelorat. “I’m sorry if I flew off the handle, but we can’t have a child playing with the controls, can we?”</p>
     <p>“Of course we can’t,” said Pelorat, “but Bliss was caught by surprise. She can control Fallom, who is really remarkably well behaved for a child taken from her home and her—her robot, and thrown, willy-nilly, into a life she doesn’t understand.”</p>
     <p>“I know. It wasn’t I who wanted to take her along, remember. It was Bliss’s idea.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, but the child would have been killed, if we hadn’t taken her.”</p>
     <p>“Well, I’ll apologize to Bliss later on. To the child, too.”</p>
     <p>But he was still frowning, and Pelorat said gently, “Golan, old chap, is there anything else bothering you?”</p>
     <p>“The ocean,” said Trevize. They had long emerged from the rain storm, but the clouds persisted.</p>
     <p>“What’s wrong with it?” asked Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“There’s too much of it, that’s all.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat looked blank, and Trevize said, with a snap, “No land. We haven’t seen any land. The atmosphere is perfectly normal, oxygen and nitrogen in decent proportions, so the planet has to be engineered, and there has to be plant life to maintain the oxygen level. In the natural state, such atmospheres do not occur—except, presumably, on Earth, where it developed, who knows how. But, then, on engineered planets there are always reasonable amounts of dry land, up to one third of the whole, and never less than a fifth. So how can this planet be engineered, and lack land?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Perhaps, since this planet is part of a binary system, it is completely atypical. Maybe it wasn’t engineered, but evolved an atmosphere in ways that never prevail on planets about single stars. Perhaps life developed independently here, as it once did on Earth, but only sea life.”</p>
     <p>“Even if we were to admit that,” said Trevize, “it would do us no good. There’s no way life in the sea can develop a technology. Technology is always based on fire, and fire is impossible in the sea. A life-bearing planet without technology is not what we’re looking for.”</p>
     <p>“I realize that, but I’m only considering ideas. After all, as far as we know, technology only developed once—on Earth. Everywhere else, the Settlers brought it with them. You can’t say technology is ‘always’ anything, if you only have one case to study.”</p>
     <p>“Travel through the sea requires streamlining. Sea life cannot have irregular outlines and appendages such as hands.”</p>
     <p>“Squids have tentacles.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I admit we are allowed to speculate, but if you’re thinking of intelligent squid-like creatures evolving independently somewhere in the Galaxy, and developing a technology not based on fire, you’re supposing something not at all likely, in my opinion.”</p>
     <p>“In your <emphasis>opinion</emphasis>,” said Pelorat gently.</p>
     <p>Suddenly, Trevize laughed. “Very well, Janov. I see you’re logic-chopping in order to get even with me for speaking harshly to Bliss, and you’re doing a good job. I promise you that if we find no land, we will examine the sea as best we can to see if we can find your civilized squids.”</p>
     <p>As he spoke, the ship plunged into the night-shadow again, and the view-screen turned black.</p>
     <p>Pelorat winced. “I keep wondering,” he said. “Is this safe?”</p>
     <p>“Is what safe, Janov?”</p>
     <p>“Racing through the dark like this. We might dip, and dive into the ocean, and be destroyed instantly.”</p>
     <p>“Quite impossible, Janov. Really! The computer keeps us traveling along a gravitational line of force. In other words, it remains always at a constant intensity of the planetary gravitational force which means it keeps us at a nearly constant height above sea level.”</p>
     <p>“But how high?”</p>
     <p>“Nearly five kilometers.”</p>
     <p>“That doesn’t really console me, Golan. Might we not reach land and smash into a mountain we don’t see?”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>We</emphasis> don’t see, but ship’s radar will see it, and the computer will guide the ship around or over the mountain.”</p>
     <p>“What if there’s level land, then? We’ll miss it in the dark.”</p>
     <p>“No, Janov, we won’t. Radar reflected from water is not at all like radar reflected from land. Water is essentially flat; land is rough. For that reason, reflection from land is substantially more chaotic than reflection from water. The computer will know the difference and it will let me know if there’s land in view. Even if it were day and the planet were sun-lit, the computer might well detect land before I would.”</p>
     <p>They fell silent and, in a couple of hours, they were back in daylight, with an empty ocean again rolling beneath them monotonously, but occasionally invisible when they passed through one of the numerous storms. In one storm, the wind drove the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> out of its path. The computer gave way, Trevize explained, in order to prevent an unnecessary waste of energy and to minimize the chance of physical damage. Then, when the turbulence had passed, the computer eased the ship back into its path.</p>
     <p>“Probably the edge of a hurricane,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “See here, old chap, we’re just traveling west to east—or east to west. All we’re examining is the equator.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “That would be foolish, wouldn’t it? We’re following a great-circle route northwest-southeast. That takes us through the tropics and both temperate zones and each time we repeat the circle, the path moves westward, as the planet rotates on its axis beneath us. We’re methodically criss-crossing the world. By now, since we haven’t hit land, the chances of a sizable continent are less than one in ten, according to the computer, and of a sizable island less than one in four, with the chances going down each circle we make.”</p>
     <p>“You know what I would have done,” said Pelorat slowly, as the night hemisphere engulfed them again. “I’d have stayed well away from the planet and swept the entire hemisphere facing me with radar. The clouds wouldn’t have mattered, would they?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “And then zoom to the other side and do the same there. Or just let the planet turn once. —That’s hindsight, Janov. Who would expect to approach a habitable planet without stopping at a station and being given a path—or being excluded? And if one went under the cloud layer without stopping at a station, who would expect not to find land almost at once? Habitable planets are—land!”</p>
     <p>“Surely not all land,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“I’m not talking about that,” said Trevize, in sudden excitement. “I’m saying we’ve found land! Quiet!”</p>
     <p>Then, with a restraint that did not succeed in hiding his excitement, Trevize placed his hands on the desk and became part of the computer. He said, “It’s an island about two hundred and fifty kilometers long and sixty-five kilometers wide, more or less. Perhaps fifteen thousand square kilometers in area or thereabout. Not large, but respectable. More than a dot on the map. Wait—”</p>
     <p>The lights in the pilot-room dimmed and went out.</p>
     <p>“What are we doing?” said Pelorat, automatically whispering as though darkness were something fragile that must not be shattered.</p>
     <p>“Waiting for our eyes to undergo dark-adaptation. The ship is hovering over the island. Just watch. Do you see anything?”</p>
     <p>“No— Little specks of light, maybe. I’m not sure.”</p>
     <p>“I see them, too. Now I’ll throw in the telescopic lens.”</p>
     <p>And there was light! Clearly visible. Irregular patches of it.</p>
     <p>“It’s inhabited,” said Trevize. “It may be the only inhabited portion of the planet.”</p>
     <p>“What do we do?”</p>
     <p>“We wait for daytime. That gives us a few hours in which we can rest.”</p>
     <p>“Might they not attack us?”</p>
     <p>“With what? I detect almost no radiation except visible light and infrared. It’s inhabited and the inhabitants are clearly intelligent. They have a technology, but obviously a preelectronic one, so I don’t think there’s anything to worry about up here. If I should be wrong, the computer will warn me in plenty of time.”</p>
     <p>“And once daylight comes?”</p>
     <p>“We’ll land, of course.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>75.</p>
     </title>
     <p>They came down when the first rays of the morning sun shone through a break in the clouds to reveal part of the island—freshly green, with its interior marked by a line of low, rolling hills stretching into the purplish distance.</p>
     <p>As they dropped closer, they could see isolated copses of trees and occasional orchards, but for the most part there were well-kept farms. Immediately below them, on the southeastern shore of the island was a silvery beach backed by a broken line of boulders, and beyond it was a stretch of lawn. They caught a glimpse of an occasional house, but these did not cluster into anything like a town.</p>
     <p>Eventually, they made out a dim network of roads, sparsely lined by dwelling places, and then, in the cool morning air, they spied an air-car in the far distance. They could only tell it was an air-car, and not a bird, by the manner of its maneuvering. It was the first indubitable sign of intelligent life in action they had yet seen on the planet.</p>
     <p>“It could be an automated vehicle, if they could manage that without electronics,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “It might well be. It seems to me that if there were a human being at the controls, it would be heading for us. We must be quite a sight—a vehicle sinking downward without the use of braking jets of rocket fire.”</p>
     <p>“A strange sight on any planet,” said Trevize thoughtfully. “There can’t be many worlds that have ever witnessed the descent of a gravitic space-vessel. —The beach would make a fine landing place, but if the winds blow I don’t want the ship inundated. I’ll make for the stretch of grass on the other side of the boulders.”</p>
     <p>“At least,” said Pelorat, “a gravitic ship won’t scorch private property in descending.”</p>
     <p>Down they came gently on the four broad pads that had moved slowly outward during the last stage. These pressed down into the soil under the weight of the ship.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I’m afraid we’ll leave marks, though.”</p>
     <p>“At least,” said Bliss, and there was that in her voice that was not entirely approving, “the climate is evidently equable. —I would even say, warm.”</p>
     <p>A human being was on the grass, watching the ship descend and showing no evidence of fear or surprise. The look on her face showed only rapt interest.</p>
     <p>She wore very little, which accounted for Bliss’s estimate of the climate. Her sandals seemed to be of canvas, and about her hips was a wraparound skirt with a flowered pattern. There were no leg-coverings and there was nothing above her waist.</p>
     <p>Her hair was black, long, and very glossy, descending almost to her waist. Her skin color was a pale brown and her eyes were narrow.</p>
     <p>Trevize scanned the surroundings and there was no other human being in sight. He shrugged and said, “Well, it’s early morning and the inhabitants may be mostly indoors, or even asleep. Still, I wouldn’t say it was a well-populated area.”</p>
     <p>He turned to the others and said, “I’ll go out and talk to the woman, if she speaks anything comprehensible. The rest of you—”</p>
     <p>“I should think,” said Bliss firmly, “that we might as well all step out. That woman looks completely harmless and, in any case, I want to stretch my legs and breathe planetary air, and perhaps arrange for planetary food. I want Fallom to get the feel of a world again, too, and I think Pel would like to examine the woman at closer range.”</p>
     <p>“Who? I?” said Pelorat, turning faintly pink. “Not at all, Bliss, but I <emphasis>am</emphasis> the linguist of our little party.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “Come one, come all. Still, though she may look harmless, I intend to take my weapons with me.”</p>
     <p>“I doubt,” said Bliss, “that you will be much tempted to use them on that young woman.”</p>
     <p>Trevize grinned. “She is attractive, isn’t she?”</p>
     <p>Trevize left the ship first, then Bliss, with one hand swung backward to enclose Fallom’s, who carefully made her way down the ramp after Bliss. Pelorat was last.</p>
     <p>The black-haired young woman continued to watch with interest. She did not back away an inch.</p>
     <p>Trevize muttered, “Well, let’s try.”</p>
     <p>He held his arms away from his weapons and said, “I greet you.”</p>
     <p>The young woman considered that for a moment, and said, “I greet thee and I greet thy companions.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said joyfully, “How wonderful! She speaks Classical Galactic and with a correct accent.”</p>
     <p>“I understand her, too,” said Trevize, oscillating one hand to indicate his understanding wasn’t perfect. “I hope she understands me.”</p>
     <p>He said, smiling, and assuming a friendly expression, “We come from across space. We come from another world.”</p>
     <p>“That is well,” said the young woman, in her clear soprano. “Comes thy ship from the Empire?”</p>
     <p>“It comes from a far star, and the ship is named <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis>.”</p>
     <p>The young woman looked up at the lettering on the ship. “Is that what that sayeth? If that be so, and if the first letter is an F, then, behold, it is imprinted backward.”</p>
     <p>Trevize was about to object, but Pelorat, in an ecstasy of joy, said, “She’s right. The letter F did reverse itself about two thousand years ago. What a marvelous chance to study Classical Galactic in detail and as a living language.”</p>
     <p>Trevize studied the young woman carefully. She was not much more than 1.5 meters in height, and her breasts, though shapely, were small. Yet she did not seem unripe. The nipples were large and the areolae dark, though that might be the result of her brownish skin color.</p>
     <p>He said, “My name is Golan Trevize; my friend is Janov Pelorat; the woman is Bliss; and the child is Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“Is it the custom, then, on the far star from which you come, that the men be given a double name? I am Hiroko, daughter of Hiroko.”</p>
     <p>“And your father?” interposed Pelorat suddenly.</p>
     <p>To which Hiroko replied with an indifferent shrug of her shoulder. “His name, so sayeth my mother, is Smool, but it is of no importance. I know him not.”</p>
     <p>“And where are the others?” asked Trevize. “You seem to be the only one to be here to greet us.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, “Many men are aboard the fishboats; many women are in the fields. I take holiday these last two days and so am fortunate enough to see this great thing. Yet people are curious and the ship will have been seen as it descended, even from a distance. Others will be here soon.”</p>
     <p>“Are there many others on this island?”</p>
     <p>“There are more than a score and five thousand,” said Hiroko with obvious pride.</p>
     <p>“And are there other islands in the ocean?”</p>
     <p>“Other islands, good sir?” She seemed puzzled.</p>
     <p>Trevize took that as answer enough. This was the one spot on the entire planet that was inhabited by human beings.</p>
     <p>He said, “What do you call your world?”</p>
     <p>“It is Alpha, good sir. We are taught that the whole name is Alpha Centauri, if that has more meaning to thee, but we call it Alpha only and, see, it is a fair-visaged world.”</p>
     <p>“A <emphasis>what</emphasis> world?” said Trevize, turning blankly to Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“A beautiful world, she means,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“That it is,” said Trevize, “at least here, and at this moment.” He looked up at the mild blue morning sky, with its occasional drift of clouds. “You have a nice sunny day, Hiroko, but I imagine there aren’t many of those on Alpha.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko stiffened. “As many as we wish, sir. The clouds may come when we need rain, but on most days it seemeth good to us that the sky is fair above. Surely a goodly sky and a quiet wind are much to be desired on those days when the fishboats are at sea.”</p>
     <p>“Do you people control the weather, then, Hiroko?”</p>
     <p>“Did we not, Sir Golan Trevize, we would be soggy with rain.”</p>
     <p>“But how do you do that?”</p>
     <p>“Not being a trained engineer, sir, I cannot tell thee.”</p>
     <p>“And what might be the name of this island on which you and your people live?” said Trevize, finding himself trapped in the ornate sound of Classical Galactic (and wondering desperately if he had the conjugations right).</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, “We call our heavenly island in the midst of the vast sea of waters New Earth.”</p>
     <p>At which Trevize and Pelorat stared at each other with surprise and delight.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>76.</p>
     </title>
     <p>There was no time to follow up on the statement. Others were arriving. Dozens. They must consist of those, Trevize thought, who were not on the ships or in the fields, and who were not from too far away. They came on foot for the most part, though two ground-cars were in evidence—rather old and clumsy.</p>
     <p>Clearly, this was a low-technology society, and yet they controlled the weather.</p>
     <p>It was well known that technology was not necessarily all of a piece; that lack of advance in some directions did not necessarily exclude considerable advance in others—but surely this example of uneven development was unusual.</p>
     <p>Of those who were now watching the ship, at least half were elderly men and women; there were also three or four children. Of the rest, more were women than men. None showed any fear or uncertainty whatever.</p>
     <p>Trevize said in a low voice to Bliss, “Are you manipulating them? They seem—serene.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not in the least manipulating them,” said Bliss. “I never touch minds unless I must. It’s Fallom I’m concerned with.”</p>
     <p>Few as the newcomers were to anyone who had experienced the crowds of curiosity-seekers on any normal world in the Galaxy, they were a mob to Fallom, to whom the three adults on the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> had been something to grow accustomed to. Fallom was breathing rapidly and shallowly, and her eyes were half-closed. Almost, she seemed in shock.</p>
     <p>Bliss was stroking her, softly and rhythmically, and making soothing sounds. Trevize was certain that she was delicately accompanying it all by an infinitely gentle rearrangement of mental fibrils.</p>
     <p>Fallom took in a sudden deep breath, almost a gasp, and shook herself, in what was perhaps an involuntary shudder. She raised her head and looked at those present with something approaching normality and then buried her head in the space between Bliss’s arm and body.</p>
     <p>Bliss let her remain so, while her arm, encircling Fallom’s shoulder, tightened periodically as though to indicate her own protective presence over and over.</p>
     <p>Pelorat seemed rather awestruck, as his eyes went from one Alphan to another. He said, “Golan, they differ so among themselves.”</p>
     <p>Trevize had noticed that, too. There were various shades of skin and hair color, including one brilliant redhead with blue eyes and freckled skin. At least three apparent adults were as short as Hiroko, and one or two were taller than Trevize. A number of both sexes had eyes resembling those of Hiroko, and Trevize remembered that on the teeming commercial planets of the Fili sector, such eyes were characteristic of the population, but he had never visited that sector.</p>
     <p>All the Alphans wore nothing above the waist and among the women the breasts all seemed to be small. That was the most nearly uniform of all the bodily characteristics that he could see.</p>
     <p>Bliss said suddenly, “Miss Hiroko, my youngster is not accustomed to travel through space and she is absorbing more novelty than she can easily manage. Would it be possible for her to sit down and, perhaps, have something to eat and drink?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko looked puzzled, and Pelorat repeated what Bliss had said in the more ornate Galactic of the mid-Imperial period.</p>
     <p>Hiroko’s hand then flew to her mouth and she sank to her knees gracefully. “I crave your pardon, respected madam,” she said. “I have not thought of this child’s needs, nor of thine. The strangeness of this event has too occupied me. Wouldst thou—would you all—as visitors and guests, enter the refectory for morning meal? May we join you and serve as hosts?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “That is kind of you.” She spoke slowly and pronounced the words carefully, hoping to make them easier to understand. “It would be better, though, if you alone served as hostess, for the sake of the comfort of the child who is unaccustomed to being with many people at once.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko rose to her feet. “It shall be as thou hast said.”</p>
     <p>She led them, in leisurely manner, across the grass. Other Alphans edged closer. They seemed particularly interested in the clothing of the newcomers. Trevize removed his light jacket, and handed it to a man who had sidled toward him and had laid a questing finger upon it.</p>
     <p>“Here,” he said, “look it over, but return it.” Then he said to Hiroko. “See that I get it back, Miss Hiroko.”</p>
     <p>“Of a surety, it will be backhanded, respected sir.” She nodded her head gravely.</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled and walked on. He was more comfortable without the jacket in the light, mild breeze.</p>
     <p>He had detected no visible weapons on the persons of any of those about him, and he found it interesting that no one seemed to show any fear or discomfort over Trevize’s. They did not even show curiosity concerning them. It might well be that they were not aware of the objects as weapons at all. From what Trevize had so far seen, Alpha might well be a world utterly without violence.</p>
     <p>A woman, having moved rapidly forward, so as to be a little ahead of Bliss, turned to examine her blouse minutely, then said, “Hast thou breasts, respected madam?”</p>
     <p>And, as though unable to wait for an answer, she placed her hand lightly on Bliss’s chest.</p>
     <p>Bliss smiled and said, “As thou hast discovered, I have. They are perhaps not as shapely as thine, but I hide them not for that reason. On my world, it is not fitting that they be uncovered.”</p>
     <p>She whispered in an aside to Pelorat, “How do you like the way I’m getting the hang of Classical Galactic?”</p>
     <p>“You did that very well, Bliss,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>The dining room was a large one with long tables to which were attached long benches on either side. Clearly, the Alphans ate community-fashion.</p>
     <p>Trevize felt a pang of conscience. Bliss’s request for privacy had reserved this space for five people and forced the Alphans generally to remain in exile outside. A number, however, placed themselves at a respectful distance from the windows (which were no more than gaps in the wall, unfilled even by screens), presumably so that they might watch the strangers eat.</p>
     <p>Involuntarily, he wondered what would happen if it were to rain. Surely, the rain would come only when it was needed, light and mild, continuing without significant wind till enough had fallen. Moreover, it would always come at known times so that the Alphans would be ready for it, Trevize imagined.</p>
     <p>The window he was facing looked out to sea, and far out at the horizon it seemed to Trevize that he could make out a bank of clouds similar to those that so nearly filled the skies everywhere but over this little spot of Eden.</p>
     <p>There were advantages to weather control.</p>
     <p>Eventually, they were served by a young woman on tiptoeing feet. They were not asked for their choice, but were merely served. There was a small glass of milk, a larger of grape juice, a still larger of water. Each diner received two large poached eggs, with slivers of white cheese on the side. Each also had a large platter of broiled fish and small roasted potatoes, resting on cool, green lettuce leaves.</p>
     <p>Bliss looked with dismay at the quantity of food before her and was clearly at a loss where to begin. Fallom had no such trouble. She drank the grape juice thirstily and with clear evidence of approval, then chewed away at the fish and potatoes. She was about to use her fingers for the purpose, but Bliss held up a large spoon with tined ends that could serve as a fork as well, and Fallom accepted it.</p>
     <p>Pelorat smiled his satisfaction and cut into the eggs at once.</p>
     <p>Trevize, saying, “Now to be reminded what real eggs taste like,” followed suit.</p>
     <p>Hiroko, forgetting to eat her own breakfast in her delight at the manner in which the others ate (for even Bliss finally began, with obvious relish), said, at last, “Is it well?”</p>
     <p>“It is well,” said Trevize, his voice somewhat muffled. “This island has no shortage of food, apparently. —Or do you serve us more than you should, out of politeness?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko listened with intent eyes, and seemed to grasp the meaning, for she said, “No, no, respected sir. Our land is bountiful, our sea even more so. Our ducks give eggs, our goats both cheese and milk. And there are our grains. Above all, our sea is filled with countless varieties of fish in numberless quantity. The whole Empire could eat at our tables and consume not the fish of our sea.”</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled discreetly. Clearly, the young Alphan had not the smallest idea of the true size of the Galaxy.</p>
     <p>He said, “You call this island New Earth, Hiroko. Where, then, might Old Earth be?”</p>
     <p>She looked at him in bewilderment. “<emphasis>Old</emphasis> Earth, say you? I crave pardon, respected sir. I take not thy meaning.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Before there was a New Earth, your people must have lived elsewhere. Where was this elsewhere from which they came?”</p>
     <p>“I know naught of that, respected sir,” she said, with troubled gravity. “This land has been mine all my life, and my mother’s and grandmother’s before me; and, I doubt not, their grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s before them. Of any other land, I know naught.”</p>
     <p>“But,” said Trevize, descending to gentle argumentation, “you speak of this land as <emphasis>New</emphasis> Earth. Why do you call it that?”</p>
     <p>“Because, respected sir,” she replied, equally gentle, “that is what it is called by all since the mind of woman goeth not to the contrary.”</p>
     <p>“But it is <emphasis>New</emphasis> Earth, and therefore, a later Earth. There must be an <emphasis>Old</emphasis> Earth, a former one, for which it was named. Each morning there is a new day, and that implies that earlier there had existed an old day. Don’t you see that this must be so?”</p>
     <p>“Nay, respected sir. I know only what this land is called. I know of naught else, nor do I follow this reasoning of thine which sounds very much like what we call here chop-logic. I mean no offense.”</p>
     <p>And Trevize shook his head and felt defeated.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>77.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize leaned toward Pelorat, and whispered, “Wherever we go, whatever we do, we get no information.”</p>
     <p>“We know where Earth is, so what does it matter?” said Pelorat, doing little more than move his lips.</p>
     <p>“I want to know something <emphasis>about</emphasis> it.”</p>
     <p>“She’s very young. Scarcely a repository of information.”</p>
     <p>Trevize thought about that, then nodded. “Right, Janov.”</p>
     <p>He turned to Hiroko and said, “Miss Hiroko, you haven’t asked us why we are here in your land?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko’s eyes fell, and she said, “That would be but scant courtesy until you have all eaten and rested, respected sir.”</p>
     <p>“But we have eaten, or almost so, and we have recently rested, so I shall tell you why we are here. My friend, Dr. Pelorat, is a scholar on our world, a learned man. He is a mythologist. Do you know what that means?”</p>
     <p>“Nay, respected sir, I do not.”</p>
     <p>“He studies old tales as they are told on different worlds. Old tales are known as myths or legends and they interest Dr. Pelorat. Are there learned ones on New Earth who know the old tales of this world?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko’s forehead creased slightly into a frown of thought. She said, “This is not a matter in which I am myself skilled. We have an old man in these parts who loves to talk of ancient days. Where he may have learned these things, I know not, and methinks he may have spun his notions out of air, or heard them from others who did so spin. This is perhaps the material which thy learned companion would hear, yet I would not mislead thee. It is in my mind,” she looked to right and left as though unwilling to be overheard, “that the old man is but a prater, though many listen willingly to him.”</p>
     <p>Trevize nodded. “Such prating is what we wish. Would it be possible for you to take my friend to this old man—”</p>
     <p>“Monolee he calls himself.”</p>
     <p>“—to Monolee, then. And do you think Monolee would be willing to speak to my friend?”</p>
     <p>“He? Willing to speak?” said Hiroko scornfully. “Thou must ask, rather, if he be ever ready to cease from speaking. He is but a man, and will therefore speak, if allowed, till a fortnight hence, with no pause. I mean no offense, respected sir.”</p>
     <p>“No offense taken. Would you lead my friend to Monolee now?”</p>
     <p>“That may anyone do at any time. The ancient is ever home and ever ready to greet an ear.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “And perhaps an older woman would be willing to come and sit with Madam Bliss. She has the child to care for and cannot move about too much. It would please her to have company, for women, as you know, are fond of—”</p>
     <p>“Prating?” said Hiroko, clearly amused. “Why, so men say, although I have observed that men are always the greater babblers. Let the men return from their fishing, and one will vie with another in telling greater flights of fancy concerning their catches. None will mark them nor believe, but this will not stop them, either. But enough of my prating, too. —I will have a friend of my mother’s, one whom I can see through the window, stay with Madam Bliss and the child, and before that she will guide your friend, the respected doctor, to the aged Monolee. If your friend will hear as avidly as Monolee will prate, thou wilt scarcely part them in this life. Wilt thou pardon my absence a moment?”</p>
     <p>When she had left, Trevize turned to Pelorat and said, “Listen, get what you can out of the old man, and Bliss, you find out what you can from whoever stays with you. What you want is anything about Earth.”</p>
     <p>“And you?” said Bliss. “What will you do?”</p>
     <p>“I will remain with Hiroko, and try to find a third source.”</p>
     <p>Bliss smiled. “Ah yes. Pel will be with this old man; I with an old woman. You will force yourself to remain with this fetchingly unclad young woman. It seems a reasonable division of labor.”</p>
     <p>“As it happens, Bliss, it <emphasis>is</emphasis> reasonable.”</p>
     <p>“But you don’t find it depressing that the reasonable division of labor should work out so, I suppose.”</p>
     <p>“No, I don’t. Why should I?”</p>
     <p>“Why should you, indeed?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko was back, and sat down again. “It is all arranged. The respected Dr. Pelorat will be taken to Monolee; and the respected Madam Bliss, together with her child, will have company. May I be granted, then, respected Sir Trevize, the boon of further conversation with thee, mayhap of this Old Earth of which thou—”</p>
     <p>“Pratest?” asked Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Nay,” said Hiroko, laughing. “But thou dost well to mock me. I showed thee but discourtesy ere now in answering thy question on this matter. I would fain make amends.”</p>
     <p>Trevize turned to Pelorat. “Fain?”</p>
     <p>“Be eager,” said Pelorat softly.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Miss Hiroko, I felt no discourtesy, but if it will make you feel better, I will gladly speak with you.”</p>
     <p>“Kindly spoken. I thank thee,” said Hiroko, rising.</p>
     <p>Trevize rose, too. “Bliss,” he said, “make sure Janov remains safe.”</p>
     <p>“Leave that to me. As for you, you have your—” She nodded toward his holsters.</p>
     <p>“I don’t think I’ll need them,” said Trevize uncomfortably.</p>
     <p>He followed Hiroko out of the dining room. The sun was higher in the sky now and the temperature was still warmer. There was an otherworldly smell as always. Trevize remembered it had been faint on Comporellon, a little musty on Aurora, and rather delightful on Solaria. (On Melpomenia, they were in space suits where one is only aware of the smell of one’s own body.) In every case, it disappeared in a matter of hours as the osmic centers of the nose grew saturated.</p>
     <p>Here, on Alpha, the odor was a pleasant grassy fragrance under the warming effect of the sun, and Trevize felt a bit annoyed, knowing that this, too, would soon disappear.</p>
     <p>They were approaching a small structure that seemed to be built of a pale pink plaster.</p>
     <p>“This,” said Hiroko, “is my home. It used to belong to my mother’s younger sister.”</p>
     <p>She walked in and motioned Trevize to follow. The door was open or, Trevize noticed as he passed through, it would be more accurate to say there was no door.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “What do you do when it rains?”</p>
     <p>“We are ready. It will rain two days hence, for three hours ere dawn, when it is coolest, and when it will moisten the soil most powerfully. Then I have but to draw this curtain, both heavy and water-repellent, across the door.”</p>
     <p>She did so as she spoke. It seemed made of a strong canvas-like material.</p>
     <p>“I will leave it in place now,” she went on. “All will then know I am within but not available, for I sleep or am occupied in matters of importance.”</p>
     <p>“It doesn’t seem much of a guardian of privacy.”</p>
     <p>“Why should it not be? See, the entrance is covered.”</p>
     <p>“But anyone could shove it aside.”</p>
     <p>“With disregard of the wishes of the occupant?” Hiroko looked shocked. “Are such things done on thy world? It would be barbarous.”</p>
     <p>Trevize grinned. “I only asked.”</p>
     <p>She led him into the second of two rooms, and, at her invitation, he seated himself in a padded chair. There was something claustrophobic about the blockish smallness and emptiness of the rooms, but the house seemed designed for little more than seclusion and rest. The window openings were small and near the ceiling, but there were dull mirror strips in a careful pattern along the walls, which reflected light diffusely. There were slits in the floor from which a gentle, cool breeze uplifted. Trevize saw no signs of artificial lighting and wondered if Alphans had to wake at sunrise and go to bed at sunset.</p>
     <p>He was about to ask, but Hiroko spoke first, saying, “Is Madam Bliss thy woman companion?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said cautiously, “Do you mean by that, is she my sexual partner?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko colored. “I pray thee, have regard for the decencies of polite conversation, but I <emphasis>do</emphasis> mean private pleasantry.”</p>
     <p>“No, she is the woman companion of my learned friend.”</p>
     <p>“But thou art the younger, and the more goodly.”</p>
     <p>“Well, thank you for your opinion, but it is not Bliss’s opinion. She likes Dr. Pelorat much more than she does me.”</p>
     <p>“That much surprises me. Will he not share?”</p>
     <p>“I have not asked him whether he would, but I’m sure he wouldn’t. Nor would I want him to.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko nodded her head wisely. “I know. It is her fundament.”</p>
     <p>“Her fundament?”</p>
     <p>“Thou knowest. This.” And she slapped her own dainty rear end.</p>
     <p>“Oh, that! I understand you. Yes, Bliss is generously proportioned in her pelvic anatomy.” He made a curving gesture with his hands and winked. (And Hiroko laughed.)</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Nevertheless, a great many men enjoy that kind of generosity of figure.”</p>
     <p>“I cannot believe so. Surely it would be a sort of gluttony to wish excess of that which is pleasant in moderation. Wouldst thou think more of me if my breasts were massive and dangling, with nipples pointing to toes? I have, in good sooth, seen such, yet have I not seen men flock to them. The poor women so afflicted must needs cover their monstrosities—as Madam Bliss does.”</p>
     <p>“Such oversize wouldn’t attract me, either, though I am sure that Bliss doesn’t cover her breasts for any imperfection they may have.”</p>
     <p>“Thou dost not, then, disapprove of my visage or form?”</p>
     <p>“I would be a madman to do so. You are beautiful.”</p>
     <p>“And what dost thou for pleasantries on this ship of thine, as thou flittest from one world to the next— Madam Bliss being denied thee?”</p>
     <p>“Nothing, Hiroko. There’s nothing to do. I think of pleasantries on occasion and that has its discomforts, but we who travel through space know well that there are times when we must do without. We make up for it at other times.”</p>
     <p>“If it be a discomfort, how may that be removed?”</p>
     <p>“I experience considerably more discomfort since you’ve brought up the subject. I don’t think it would be polite to suggest how I might be comforted.”</p>
     <p>“Would it be discourtesy, were I to suggest a way?”</p>
     <p>“It would depend entirely on the nature of the suggestion.”</p>
     <p>“I would suggest that we be pleasant with each other.”</p>
     <p>“Did you bring me here, Hiroko, that it might come to this?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, with a pleased smile, “Yes. It would be both my hostess-duty of courtesy, and it would be my wish, too.”</p>
     <p>“If that’s the case, I will admit it is my wish, too. In fact, I would like very much to oblige you in this. I would be—uh—<emphasis>fain</emphasis> to do thee pleasure.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>18</p>
     <p>THE MUSIC FESTIVAL</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>78.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Lunch was in the same dining room in which they had had breakfast. It was full of Alphans, and with them were Trevize and Pelorat, made thoroughly welcome. Bliss and Fallom ate separately, and more or less privately, in a small annex.</p>
     <p>There were several varieties of fish, together with soup in which there were strips of what might well have been boiled kid. Loaves of bread were there for the slicing, butter and jam for the spreading. A salad, large and diffuse, came afterward, and there was a notable absence of any dessert, although fruit juices were passed about in apparently inexhaustible pitchers. Both Foundationers were forced to be abstemious after their heavy breakfast, but everyone else seemed to eat freely.</p>
     <p>“How do they keep from getting fat?” wondered Pelorat in a low voice.</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “Lots of physical labor, perhaps.”</p>
     <p>It was clearly a society in which decorum at meals was not greatly valued. There was a miscellaneous hubbub of shouting, laughing, and thumping on the table with thick, obviously unbreakable, cups. Women were as loud and raucous as men, albeit in higher pitch.</p>
     <p>Pelorat winced, but Trevize, who now (temporarily, at least) felt no trace of the discomfort he had spoken of to Hiroko, felt both relaxed and good-natured.</p>
     <p>He said, “Actually, it has its pleasant side. These are people who appear to enjoy life and who have few, if any, cares. Weather is what they make it and food is unimaginably plentiful. This is a golden age for them that simply continues and continues.”</p>
     <p>He had to shout to make himself heard, and Pelorat shouted back, “But it’s so noisy.”</p>
     <p>“They’re used to it.”</p>
     <p>“I don’t see how they can understand each other in this riot.”</p>
     <p>Certainly, it was all lost on the two Foundationers. The queer pronunciation and the archaic grammar and word order of the Alphan language made it impossible to understand at the intense sound levels. To the Foundationers, it was like listening to the sounds of a zoo in fright.</p>
     <p>It was not till after lunch that they rejoined Bliss in a small structure, which Trevize found to be rather inconsiderably different from Hiroko’s quarters, and which had been assigned them as their own temporary living quarters. Fallom was in the second room, enormously relieved to be alone, according to Bliss, and attempting to nap.</p>
     <p>Pelorat looked at the door-gap in the wall and said uncertainly, “There’s very little privacy here. How can we speak freely?”</p>
     <p>“I assure you,” said Trevize, “that once we pull the canvas barrier across the door, we won’t be disturbed. The canvas makes it impenetrable by all the force of social custom.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat glanced at the high, open windows. “We can be overheard.”</p>
     <p>“We need not shout. The Alphans won’t eavesdrop. Even when they stood outside the windows of the dining room at breakfast, they remained at a respectful distance.”</p>
     <p>Bliss smiled. “You’ve learned so much about Alphan customs in the time you spent alone with gentle little Hiroko, and you’ve gained such confidence in their respect for privacy. What happened?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “If you’re aware that the tendrils of my mind have undergone a change for the better and can guess the reason, I can only ask you to leave my mind alone.”</p>
     <p>“You know very well that Gaia will not touch your mind under any circumstances short of life-crisis, and you know why. Still, I’m not mentally blind. I could sense what happened a kilometer away. Is this your invariable custom on space voyages, my erotomaniac friend?”</p>
     <p>“Erotomaniac? Come, Bliss. Twice on this entire trip. Twice!”</p>
     <p>“We were only on two worlds that had functioning human females on them. Two out of two, and we had only been a few hours on each.”</p>
     <p>“You are well aware I had no choice on Comporellon.”</p>
     <p>“That makes sense. I remember what she looked like.” For a few moments, Bliss dissolved in laughter. Then she said, “Yet I don’t think Hiroko held you helpless in her mighty grip, or inflicted her irresistible will on your cringing body.”</p>
     <p>“Of course not. I was perfectly willing. But it was her suggestion, just the same.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, with just a tinge of envy in his voice, “Does this happen to you all the time, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“Of course it must, Pel,” said Bliss. “Women are helplessly drawn to him.”</p>
     <p>“I wish that were so,” said Trevize, “but it isn’t. And I’m glad it isn’t—I do have other things I want to do in life. Just the same, in this case I <emphasis>was</emphasis> irresistible. After all, we were the first people from another world that Hiroko had ever seen or, apparently, that anyone now alive on Alpha had ever seen. I gathered from things she let slip, casual remarks, that she had the rather exciting notion that I might be different from Alphans, either anatomically or in my technique. Poor thing. I’m afraid she was disappointed.”</p>
     <p>“Oh?” said Bliss. “Were you?”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Trevize. “I have been on a number of worlds and I have had my experiences. And what I had discovered is that people are people and sex is sex, wherever one goes. If there are noticeable differences, they are usually both trivial and unpleasant. The perfumes I’ve encountered in my time! I remember when a young woman simply couldn’t manage unless there was music loudly played, music that consisted of a desperate screeching sound. So she played the music and then <emphasis>I</emphasis> couldn’t manage. I assure you—if it’s the same old thing, then I’m satisfied.”</p>
     <p>“Speaking of music,” said Bliss, “we are invited to a musicale after dinner. A very formal thing, apparently, that is being held in our honor. I gather the Alphans are very proud of their music.”</p>
     <p>Trevize grimaced. “Their pride will in no way make the music sound better to our ears.”</p>
     <p>“Hear me out,” said Bliss. “I gather that their pride is that they play expertly on very archaic instruments. <emphasis>Very</emphasis> archaic. We may get some information about Earth by way of them.”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s eyebrows shot up. “An interesting thought. And that reminds me that both of you may already have information. Janov, did you see this Monolee that Hiroko told us about?”</p>
     <p>“Indeed I did,” said Pelorat. “I was with him for three hours and Hiroko did not exaggerate. It was a virtual monologue on his part and when I left to come to lunch, he clung to me and would not let me go until I promised to return whenever I could in order that I might listen to him some more.”</p>
     <p>“And did he say anything of interest?”</p>
     <p>“Well, he, too—like everybody else—insisted that Earth was thoroughly and murderously radioactive; that the ancestors of the Alphans were the last to leave and that if they hadn’t, they would have died. —And, Golan, he was so emphatic that I couldn’t help believing him. I’m convinced that Earth <emphasis>is</emphasis> dead, and that our entire search is, after all, useless.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>79.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize sat back in his chair, staring at Pelorat, who was sitting on a narrow cot. Bliss, having risen from where she had been sitting next to Pelorat, looked from one to the other.</p>
     <p>Finally, Trevize said, “Let me be the judge as to whether our search is useless or not, Janov. Tell me what the garrulous old man had to say to you—in brief, of course.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I took notes as Monolee spoke. It helped reinforce my role as scholar, but I don’t have to refer to them. He was quite stream-of-consciousness in his speaking. Each thing he said would remind him of something else, but, of course, I have spent my life trying to organize information in the search of the relevant and significant, so that it’s second nature for me now to be able to condense a long and incoherent discourse—”</p>
     <p>Trevize said gently, “Into something just as long and incoherent? To the point, dear Janov.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat cleared his throat uneasily. “Yes, certainly, old chap. I’ll try to make a connected and chronological tale out of it. Earth was the original home of humanity and of millions of species of plants and animals. It continued so for countless years until hyperspatial travel was invented. Then the Spacer worlds were founded. They broke away from Earth, developed their own cultures, and came to despise and oppress the mother planet.</p>
     <p>“After a couple of centuries of this, Earth managed to regain its freedom, though Monolee did not explain the exact manner in which this was done, and I dared not ask questions, even if he had given me a chance to interrupt, which he did not, for that might merely have sent him into new byways. He did mention a culture-hero named Elijah Baley, but the references were so characteristic of the habit of attributing to one figure the accomplishments of generations that there was little value in attempting to—”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Yes, Pel dear, we understand that part.”</p>
     <p>Again, Pelorat paused in midstream and reconsidered. “Of course. My apologies. Earth initiated a second wave of settlements, founding many new worlds in a new fashion. The new group of Settlers proved more vigorous than the Spacers, outpaced them, defeated them, outlasted them, and, eventually, established the Galactic Empire. During the course of the wars between the Settlers and the Spacers—no, not wars, for he used the word ‘conflict,’ being very careful about that—the Earth became radioactive.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, with clear annoyance, “That’s ridiculous, Janov. How can a world <emphasis>become</emphasis> radioactive? Every world is very slightly radioactive to one degree or another from the moment of formation, and that radioactivity slowly decays. It doesn’t <emphasis>become</emphasis> radioactive.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shrugged. “I’m only telling you what he said. And he was only telling me what he had heard—from someone who only told him what <emphasis>he</emphasis> had heard—and so on. It’s folk-history, told and retold over the generations, with who knows what distortions creeping in at each retelling.”</p>
     <p>“I understand that, but are there no books, documents, ancient histories which have frozen the story at an early time and which could give us something more accurate than the present tale?”</p>
     <p>“Actually, I managed to ask that question, and the answer is no. He said vaguely that there were books about it in ancient times and that they had long ago been lost, but that what he was telling us was what had been in those books.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, well distorted. It’s the same story. In every world we go to, the records of Earth have, in one way or another, disappeared. —Well, how did he say the radioactivity began on Earth?”</p>
     <p>“He didn’t, in any detail. The closest he came to saying so was that the Spacers were responsible, but then I gathered that the Spacers were the demons on whom the people of Earth blamed all misfortune. The radioactivity—”</p>
     <p>A clear voice overrode him here. “Bliss, am I a Spacer?”</p>
     <p>Fallom was standing in the narrow doorway between the two rooms, hair tousled and the nightgown she was wearing (designed to fit Bliss’s more ample proportions) having slid off one shoulder to reveal an undeveloped breast.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “We worry about eavesdroppers outside and we forget the one inside. —Now, Fallom, why do you say that?” She rose and walked toward the youngster.</p>
     <p>Fallom said, “I don’t have what they have,” she pointed at the two men, “or what you have, Bliss. I’m different. Is that because I’m a Spacer?”</p>
     <p>“You are, Fallom,” said Bliss soothingly, “but little differences don’t matter. Come back to bed.”</p>
     <p>Fallom became submissive as she always did when Bliss willed her to be so. She turned and said, “Am I a demon? What is a demon?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said over her shoulder, “Wait one moment for me. I’ll be right back.”</p>
     <p>She was, within five minutes. She was shaking her head. “She’ll be sleeping now till I wake her. I should have done that before, I suppose, but any modification of the mind must be the result of necessity.” She added defensively, “I can’t have her brood on the differences between her genital equipment and ours.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Someday she’ll have to know she’s hermaphroditic.”</p>
     <p>“Someday,” said Bliss, “but not now. Go on with the story, Pel.”</p>
     <p>“Yes,” said Trevize, “before something else interrupts us.”</p>
     <p>“Well, Earth became radioactive, or at least its crust did. At that time, Earth had had an enormous population that was centered in huge cities that existed for the most part underground—”</p>
     <p>“Now, that,” put in Trevize, “is surely not so. “It must be local patriotism glorifying the golden age of a planet, and the details were simply a distortion of Trantor in <emphasis>its</emphasis> golden age, when it was the Imperial capital of a Galaxy-wide system of worlds.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat paused, then said, “Really, Golan, you mustn’t teach me my business. We mythologists know very well that myths and legends contain borrowings, moral lessons, nature cycles, and a hundred other distorting influences, and we labor to cut them away and get to what might be a kernel of truth. In fact, these same techniques must be applied to the most sober histories, for no one writes the clear and apparent truth—if such a thing can even be said to exist. For now, I’m telling you more or less what Monolee told me, though I suppose I am adding distortions of my own, try as I might not to do so.”</p>
     <p>“Well, well,” said Trevize. “Go on, Janov. I meant no offense.”</p>
     <p>“And I’ve taken none. The huge cities, assuming they existed, crumbled and shrank as the radioactivity slowly grew more intense until the population was but a remnant of what it had been, clinging precariously to regions that were relatively radiation-free. The population was kept down by rigid birth control and by the euthanasia of people over sixty.”</p>
     <p>“Horrible,” said Bliss indignantly.</p>
     <p>“Undoubtedly,” said Pelorat, “but that is what they did, according to Monolee, and that might be true, for it is certainly not complimentary to the Earthpeople and it is not likely that an uncomplimentary lie would be made up. The Earthpeople, having been despised and oppressed by the Spacers, were now despised and oppressed by the Empire, though here we may have exaggeration there out of self-pity, which is a very seductive emotion. There is the case—”</p>
     <p>“Yes, yes, Pelorat, another time. Please go on with Earth.”</p>
     <p>“I beg your pardon. The Empire, in a fit of benevolence, agreed to substitute imported radiation-free soil and to cart away the contaminated soil. Needless to say, that was an enormous task which the Empire soon tired of, especially as this period (if my guess is right) coincided with the fall of Kandar V, after which the Empire had many more things to worry about than Earth.</p>
     <p>“The radioactivity continued to grow more intense, the population continued to fall, and finally the Empire, in another fit of benevolence, offered to transplant the remnant of the population to a new world of their own—to <emphasis>this</emphasis> world, in short.</p>
     <p>“At an earlier period, it seems an expedition had stocked the ocean so that by the time the plans for the transplantation of Earthpeople were being developed, there was a full oxygen atmosphere and an ample supply of food on Alpha. Nor did any of the worlds of the Galactic Empire covet this world because there is a certain natural antipathy to planets that circle stars of a binary system. There are so few suitable planets in such a system, I suppose, that even suitable ones are rejected because of the assumption that there must be something wrong with them. This is a common thought-fashion. There is the well-known case, for instance, of—”</p>
     <p>“Later with the well-known case, Janov,” said Trevize. “On with the transplantation.”</p>
     <p>“What remained,” said Pelorat, hurrying his words a little, “was to prepare a land-base. The shallowest part of the ocean was found and sediment was raised from deeper parts to add to the shallow sea-bottom and, finally, to produce the island of New Earth. Boulders and coral were dredged up and added to the island. Land plants were seeded so that root systems might help make the new land firm. Again, the Empire had set itself an enormous task. Perhaps continents were planned at first, but by the time this one island was produced, the Empire’s moment of benevolence had passed.</p>
     <p>“What was left of Earth’s population was brought here. The Empire’s fleets carried off its men and machinery, and they never returned. The Earthpeople, living on New Earth, found themselves in complete isolation.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Complete? Did Monolee say that no one from elsewhere in the Galaxy has ever come here till we did?”</p>
     <p>“Almost complete,” said Pelorat. “There is nothing to come here for, I suppose, even if we set aside the superstitious distaste for binary systems. Occasionally, at long intervals, a ship would come, as ours did, but it would eventually leave and there has never been a follow-up. And that’s it.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Did you ask Monolee where Earth was located?”</p>
     <p>“Of course I asked that. He didn’t know.”</p>
     <p>“How can he know so much about Earth’s history without knowing where it is located?”</p>
     <p>“I asked him specifically, Golan, if the star that was only a parsec or so distant from Alpha might be the sun about which Earth revolved. He didn’t know what a parsec was, and I said it was a short distance, astronomically speaking. He said, short or long, he did not know where Earth was located and he didn’t know anyone who knew, and, in his opinion, it was wrong to try to find it. It should be allowed, he said, to move endlessly through space in peace.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Do you agree with him?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shook his head sorrowfully. “Not really. But he said that at the rate the radioactivity continued to increase, the planet must have become totally uninhabitable not long after the transplantation took place and that by now it must be burning intensely so that no one can approach.”</p>
     <p>“Nonsense,” said Trevize firmly. “A planet cannot become radioactive and, having done so, continuously increase in radioactivity. Radioactivity can only decrease.”</p>
     <p>“But Monolee is so sure of it. So many people we’ve talked to on various worlds unite in this—that Earth is radioactive. Surely, it is useless to go on.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>80.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize drew a deep breath, then said, in a carefully controlled voice, “Nonsense, Janov. That’s not true.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Well, now, old chap, you mustn’t believe something just because you want to believe it.”</p>
     <p>“My wants have nothing to do with it. In world after world we find all records of Earth wiped out. Why should they be wiped out if there is nothing to hide; if Earth is a dead, radioactive world that cannot be approached?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know, Golan.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, you do. When we were approaching Melpomenia, you said that the radioactivity might be the other side of the coin. Destroy records to remove accurate information; supply the tale of radioactivity to insert inaccurate information. Both would discourage any attempt to find Earth, and we mustn’t be deluded into discouragement.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Actually, you seem to think the nearby star is Earth’s sun. Why, then, continue to argue the question of radioactivity? What does it matter? Why not simply go to the nearby star and see if it is Earth, and, if so, what it is like?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Because those on Earth must be, in their way, extraordinarily powerful, and I would prefer to approach with some knowledge of the world and its inhabitants. As it is, since I continue to remain ignorant of Earth, approaching it is dangerous. It is my notion that I leave the rest of you here on Alpha and that I proceed to Earth by myself. One life is quite enough to risk.”</p>
     <p>“No, Golan,” said Pelorat earnestly. “Bliss and the child might wait here, but I must go with you. I have been searching for Earth since before you were born and I cannot stay behind when the goal is so close, whatever dangers might threaten.”</p>
     <p>“Bliss and the child will <emphasis>not</emphasis> wait here,” said Bliss. “I am Gaia, and Gaia can protect us even against Earth.”</p>
     <p>“I hope you’re right,” said Trevize gloomily, “but Gaia could not prevent the elimination of all early memories of Earth’s role in its founding.”</p>
     <p>“That was done in Gaia’s early history when it was not yet well organized, not yet advanced. Matters are different now.”</p>
     <p>“I hope that is so. —Or is it that you have gained information about Earth this morning that we don’t have? I did ask that you speak to some of the older women that might be available here.”</p>
     <p>“And so I did.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “And what did you find out?”</p>
     <p>“Nothing about Earth. There is a total blank there.”</p>
     <p>“Ah.”</p>
     <p>“But they are advanced biotechnologists.”</p>
     <p>“Oh?”</p>
     <p>“On this small island, they have grown and tested innumerable strains of plants and animals and designed a suitable ecological balance, stable and self-supporting, despite the few species with which they began. They have improved on the ocean life that they found when they arrived here a few thousand years ago, increasing their nutritive value and improving their taste. It is their biotechnology that has made this world such a cornucopia of plenty. They have plans for themselves, too.”</p>
     <p>“What kind of plans?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “They know perfectly well they cannot reasonably expect to expand their range under present circumstances, confined as they are to the one small patch of land that exists on their world, but they dream of becoming amphibious.”</p>
     <p>“Of becoming <emphasis>what</emphasis>?”</p>
     <p>“Amphibious. They plan to develop gills in addition to lungs. They dream of being able to spend substantial periods of time underwater; of finding shallow regions and building structures on the ocean bottom. My informant was quite glowing about it but she admitted that this had been a goal of the Alphans for some centuries now and that little, if any, progress has been made.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “That’s two fields in which they might be more advanced than we are; weather control and biotechnology. I wonder what their techniques are.”</p>
     <p>“We’d have to find specialists,” said Bliss, “and they might not be willing to talk about it.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “It’s not <emphasis>our</emphasis> primary concern here, but it would clearly pay the Foundation to attempt to learn from this miniature world.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “We manage to control the weather fairly well on Terminus, as it is.”</p>
     <p>“Control is good on many worlds,” said Trevize, “but always it’s a matter of the world as a whole. Here the Alphans control the weather of a small portion of the world and they must have techniques we don’t have. —Anything else, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“Social invitations. These appear to be a holidaymaking people, in whatever time they can take from farming and fishing. After dinner, tonight there’ll be a music festival. I told you about that already. Tomorrow, during the day, there will be a beach festival. Apparently, all around the rim of the island there will be a congregation of everyone who can get away from the fields in order that they might enjoy the water and celebrate the sun, since it will be raining the next day. In the morning, the fishing fleet will come back, beating the rain, and by evening there will be a food festival, sampling the catch.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat groaned. “The meals are ample enough as it is. What would a food festival be like?”</p>
     <p>“I gather that it will feature not quantity, but variety. In any case, all four of us are invited to participate in all the festivals, especially the music festival tonight.”</p>
     <p>“On the antique instruments?” asked Trevize.</p>
     <p>“That’s right.”</p>
     <p>“What makes them antique, by the way? Primitive computers?”</p>
     <p>“No, no. That’s the point. It isn’t electronic music at all, but mechanical. They described it to me. They scrape strings, blow in tubes, and bang on surfaces.”</p>
     <p>“I hope you’re making that up,” said Trevize, appalled.</p>
     <p>“No, I’m not. And I understand that your Hiroko will be blowing on one of the tubes—I forget its name—and you ought to be able to endure that.”</p>
     <p>“As for myself,” said Pelorat, “I would love to go. I know very little about primitive music and I would like to hear it.”</p>
     <p>“She is not ‘my Hiroko,’?” said Trevize coldly. “But are the instruments of the type once used on Earth, do you suppose?”</p>
     <p>“So I gathered,” said Bliss. “At least the Alphan women said they were designed long before their ancestors came here.”</p>
     <p>“In that case,” said Trevize, “it may be worth listening to all that scraping, tootling, and banging, for whatever information it might conceivably yield concerning Earth.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>81.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Oddly enough, it was Fallom who was most excited at the prospect of a musical evening. She and Bliss had bathed in the small outhouse behind their quarters. It had a bath with running water, hot and cold (or, rather, warm and cool), a washbowl, and a commode. It was totally clean and usable and, in the late afternoon sun, it was even well lit and cheerful.</p>
     <p>As always, Fallom was fascinated with Bliss’s breasts and Bliss was reduced to saying (now that Fallom understood Galactic) that on her world that was the way people were. To which Fallom said, inevitably, “Why?” and Bliss, after some thought, deciding there was no sensible way of answering, returned the universal reply, “Because!”</p>
     <p>When they were done, Bliss helped Fallom put on the undergarment supplied them by the Alphans and worked out the system whereby the skirt went on over it. Leaving Fallom unclothed from the waist up seemed reasonable enough. She herself, while making use of Alphan garments below the waist (rather tight about the hips), put on her own blouse. It seemed silly to be too inhibited to expose breasts in a society where all women did, especially since her own were not large and were as shapely as any she had seen but—there it was.</p>
     <p>The two men took their turn at the outhouse next, Trevize muttering the usual male complaint concerning the time the women had taken.</p>
     <p>Bliss turned Fallom about to make sure the skirt would hold in place over her boyish hips and buttocks. She said, “It’s a very pretty skirt, Fallom. Do you like it?”</p>
     <p>Fallom stared at it in a mirror and said, “Yes, I do. Won’t I be cold with nothing on, though?” and she ran her hands down her bare chest.</p>
     <p>“I don’t think so, Fallom. It’s quite warm on this world.”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>You</emphasis> have something on.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, I do. That’s how it is on my world. Now, Fallom, we’re going to be with a great many Alphans during dinner and afterward. Do you think you can bear that?”</p>
     <p>Fallom looked distressed, and Bliss went on, “I will sit on your right side and I will hold you. Pel will sit on the other side, and Trevize will sit across the table from you. We won’t let anyone talk to you, and you won’t have to talk to anyone.”</p>
     <p>“I’ll try, Bliss,” Fallom piped in her highest tones.</p>
     <p>“Then afterward,” said Bliss, “some Alphans will make music for us in their own special way. Do you know what music is?” She hummed in the best imitation of electronic harmony that she could.</p>
     <p>Fallom’s face lit up. “You mean——” The last word was in her own language, and she burst into song.</p>
     <p>Bliss’s eyes widened. It was a beautiful tune, even though it was wild, and rich in trills. “That’s right. Music,” she said.</p>
     <p>Fallom said excitedly, “Jemby made”—she hesitated, then decided to use the Galactic word—“music all the time. It made music on a——” Again a word in her own language.</p>
     <p>Bliss repeated the word doubtfully, “On a feeful?”</p>
     <p>Fallom laughed. “Not feeful,——”</p>
     <p>With both words juxtaposed like that, Bliss could hear the difference, but she despaired of reproducing the second. She said, “What does it look like?”</p>
     <p>Fallom’s as yet limited vocabulary in Galactic did not suffice for an accurate description, and her gestures did not produce any shape clearly in Bliss’s mind.</p>
     <p>“He showed me how to use the——” Fallom said proudly. “I used my fingers just the way Jemby did, but it said that soon I wouldn’t have to.”</p>
     <p>“That’s wonderful, dear,” said Bliss. “After dinner, we’ll see if the Alphans are as good as your Jemby was.”</p>
     <p>Fallom’s eyes sparkled and pleasant thoughts of what was to follow carried her through a lavish dinner despite the crowds and laughter and noise all about her. Only once, when a dish was accidentally upset, setting off shrieks of excitement fairly close to them, did Fallom look frightened, and Bliss promptly held her close in a warm and protective hug.</p>
     <p>“I wonder if we can arrange to eat by ourselves,” she muttered to Pelorat. “Otherwise, we’ll have to get off this world. It’s bad enough eating all this Isolate animal protein, but I <emphasis>must</emphasis> be able to do it in peace.”</p>
     <p>“It’s only high spirits,” said Pelorat, who would have endured anything within reason that he felt came under the heading of primitive behavior and beliefs.</p>
     <p>—And then the dinner was over, and the announcement came that the music festival would soon begin.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>82.</p>
     </title>
     <p>The hall in which the music festival was to be held was about as large as the dining room, and there were folding seats (rather uncomfortable, Trevize found out) for about a hundred fifty people. As honored guests, the visitors were led to the front row, and various Alphans commented politely and favorably on their clothes.</p>
     <p>Both men were bare above the waist and Trevize tightened his abdominal muscles whenever he thought of it and stared down, on occasion, with complacent self-admiration at his dark-haired chest. Pelorat, in his ardent observation of everything about him, was indifferent to his own appearance. Bliss’s blouse drew covert stares of puzzlement but nothing was said concerning it.</p>
     <p>Trevize noted that the hall was only about half-full and that the large majority of the audience were women, since, presumably, so many men were out to sea.</p>
     <p>Pelorat nudged Trevize and whispered, “They have electricity.”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked at the vertical tubes on the walls, and at others on the ceiling. They were softly luminous.</p>
     <p>“Fluorescence,” he said. “Quite primitive.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, but they do the job, and we’ve got those things in our rooms and in the outhouse. I thought they were just decorative. If we can find out how to work them, we won’t have to stay in the dark.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said irritably, “They might have told us.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “They thought we’d know; that anyone would know.”</p>
     <p>Four women now emerged from behind screens and seated themselves in a group in the space at the front. Each held an instrument of varnished wood of a similar shape, but one that was not easily describable. The instruments were chiefly different in size. One was quite small, two somewhat larger, and the fourth considerably larger. Each woman also held a long rod in the other hand.</p>
     <p>The audience whistled softly as they came in, in response to which the four women bowed. Each had a strip of gauze bound fairly tightly across the breasts as though to keep them from interfering with the instrument.</p>
     <p>Trevize, interpreting the whistles as signs of approval, or of pleased anticipation, felt it only polite to add his own. At that, Fallom added a trill that was far more than a whistle and that was beginning to attract attention when pressure from Bliss’s hand stopped her.</p>
     <p>Three of the women, without preparation, put their instruments under their chins, while the largest of the instruments remained between the legs of the fourth woman and rested on the floor. The long rod in the right hand of each was sawed across the strings stretching nearly the length of the instrument, while the fingers of the left hand shifted rapidly along the upper ends of those strings.</p>
     <p>This, thought Trevize, was the “scraping” he had expected, but it didn’t sound like scraping at all. There was a soft and melodious succession of notes; each instrument doing something of its own and the whole fusing pleasantly.</p>
     <p>It lacked the infinite complexity of electronic music (“real music,” as Trevize could not help but think of it) and there was a distinct sameness to it. Still, as time passed, and his ear grew accustomed to this odd system of sound, he began to pick out subtleties. It was wearisome to have to do so, and he thought, longingly, of the clamor and mathematical precision and purity of the real thing, but it occurred to him that if he listened to the music of these simple wooden devices long enough he might well grow to like it.</p>
     <p>It was not till the concert was some forty-five minutes old that Hiroko stepped out. She noticed Trevize in the front row at once and smiled at him. He joined the audience in the soft whistle of approval with a whole heart. She looked beautiful in a long and most elaborate skirt, a large flower in her hair, and nothing at all over her breasts since (apparently) there was no danger of their interference with the instrument.</p>
     <p>Her instrument proved to be a dark wooden tube about two thirds of a meter long and nearly two centimenters thick. She lifted the instrument to her lips and blew across an opening near one end, producing a thin, sweet note that wavered in pitch as her fingers manipulated metal objects along the length of the tube.</p>
     <p>At the first sound, Fallom clutched at Bliss’s arm and said, “Bliss, that’s a——” and the word sounded like “feeful” to Bliss.</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head firmly at Fallom, who said, in a lower voice, “But it is!”</p>
     <p>Others were looking in Fallom’s direction. Bliss put her hand firmly over Fallom’s mouth, and leaned down to mutter an almost subliminally forceful “Quiet!” into her ear.</p>
     <p>Fallom listened to Hiroko’s playing quietly thereafter, but her fingers moved spasmodically, as though they were operating the objects along the length of the instrument.</p>
     <p>The final player in the concert was an elderly man who had an instrument with fluted sides suspended over his shoulders. He pulled it in and out while one hand flashed across a succession of white and dark objects at one end, pressing them down in groups.</p>
     <p>Trevize found this sound particularly wearing, rather barbaric, and unpleasantly like the memory of the barking of the dogs on Aurora—not that the sound was like barking, but the emotions it gave rise to were similar. Bliss looked as though she would like to place her hands over her ears, and Pelorat had a frown on his face. Only Fallom seemed to enjoy it, for she was tapping her foot lightly, and Trevize, when he noticed that, realized, to his own surprise, that there was a beat to the music that matched Fallom’s footfall.</p>
     <p>It came to an end at last and there was a perfect storm of whistling, with Fallom’s trill clearly heard above it all.</p>
     <p>Then the audience broke up into small conversational groups and became as loud and raucous as Alphans seemed to be on all public occasions. The various individuals who had played in the concert stood about in front of the room and spoke to those people who came up to congratulate them.</p>
     <p>Fallom evaded Bliss’s grasp and ran up to Hiroko.</p>
     <p>“Hiroko,” she cried out, gaspingly. “Let me see the——”</p>
     <p>“The what, dear one?” said Hiroko.</p>
     <p>“The thing you made the music with.”</p>
     <p>“Oh.” Hiroko laughed. “That’s a flute, little one.”</p>
     <p>“May I see it?”</p>
     <p>“Well.” Hiroko opened a case and took out the instrument. It was in three parts, but she put it together quickly, held it toward Fallom with the mouthpiece near her lips, and said, “There, blow thou thy breath across this.”</p>
     <p>“I know. I know,” said Fallom eagerly, and reached for the flute.</p>
     <p>Automatically, Hiroko snatched it away and held it high. “Blow, child, but touch not.”</p>
     <p>Fallom seemed disappointed. “May I just look at it, then? I won’t touch it.”</p>
     <p>“Certainly, dear one.”</p>
     <p>She held out the flute again and Fallom stared at it earnestly.</p>
     <p>And then, the fluorescent lighting in the room dimmed very slightly, and the sound of a flute’s note, a little uncertain and wavering, made itself heard.</p>
     <p>Hiroko, in surprise, nearly dropped the flute, and Fallom cried out, “I did it. I did it. Jemby said someday I could do it.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, “Was it thou that made the sound?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, I did. I did.”</p>
     <p>“But how didst thou do so, child?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, red with embarrassment, “I’m sorry, Hiroko. I’ll take her away.”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Hiroko. “I wish her to do it again.”</p>
     <p>A few of the nearest Alphans had gathered to watch. Fallom furrowed her brow as though trying hard. The fluorescents dimmed rather more than before, and again there was the note of the flute, this time pure and steady. Then it became erratic as the metal objects along the length of the flute moved of their own accord.</p>
     <p>“It’s a little different from the——” Fallom said, a little breathlessly, as though the breath that had been activating the flute had been her own instead of power-driven air.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said to Trevize, “She must be getting the energy from the electric current that feeds the fluorescents.”</p>
     <p>“Try again,” said Hiroko in a choked voice.</p>
     <p>Fallom closed her eyes. The note was softer now and under firmer control. The flute played by itself, maneuvered by no fingers, but moved by distant energy, transduced through the still immature lobes of Fallom’s brain. The notes which began as almost random settled into a musical succession and now everyone in the hall had gathered around Hiroko and Fallom, as Hiroko held the flute gently with thumb and forefinger at either end, and Fallom, eyes closed, directed the current of air and the movement of the keys.</p>
     <p>“It’s the piece I played,” whispered Hiroko.</p>
     <p>“I remember it,” said Fallom, nodding her head slightly, trying not to break her concentration.</p>
     <p>“Thou didst not miss a note,” said Hiroko, when it was done.</p>
     <p>“But it’s not right, Hiroko. You didn’t do it right.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Fallom! That’s not polite. You mustn’t—”</p>
     <p>“Please,” said Hiroko peremptorily, “do not interfere. Why is it not right, child?”</p>
     <p>“Because I would play it differently.”</p>
     <p>“Show me, then.”</p>
     <p>Again the flute played, but in more complicated fashion, for the forces that pushed the keys did so more quickly, in more rapid succession and in more elaborate combinations than before. The music was more complex, and infinitely more emotional and moving. Hiroko stood rigid and there was not a sound to be heard anywhere in the room.</p>
     <p>Even after Fallom had finished playing, there was not a sound until Hiroko drew a deep breath and said, “Little one, hast thou ever played that before?”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Fallom, “before this I could only use my fingers, and I can’t do my fingers like that.” Then, simply and with no trace of vaunting, “No one can.”</p>
     <p>“Canst thou play anything else?”</p>
     <p>“I can make something up.”</p>
     <p>“Dost thou mean—improvise?”</p>
     <p>Fallom frowned at the word and looked toward Bliss. Bliss nodded and Fallom said, “Yes.”</p>
     <p>“Please do so, then,” said Hiroko.</p>
     <p>Fallom paused and thought for a minute or two, then began slowly, in a very simple succession of notes, the whole being rather dreamy. The fluorescent lights dimmed and brightened as the amount of power exerted intensified and faded. No one seemed to notice, for it seemed to be the effect of the music rather than the cause, as though a ghostly electrical spirit were obeying the dictates of the sound waves.</p>
     <p>The combination of notes then repeated itself a bit more loudly, then a bit more complexly, then in variations that, without ever losing the clearly heard basic combination, became more stirring and more exciting until it was almost impossible to breathe. And finally, it descended much more rapidly than it had ascended and did so with the effect of a swooping dive that brought the listeners to ground level even while they still retained the feeling that they were high in the air.</p>
     <p>There followed sheer pandemonium that split the air, and even Trevize, who was used to a totally different kind of music, thought sadly, “And now I’ll never hear that again.”</p>
     <p>When a most reluctant quiet had returned, Hiroko held out her flute. “Here, Fallom, this is thine!”</p>
     <p>Fallom reached for it eagerly, but Bliss caught hold of the child’s outstretched arm and said, “We can’t take it, Hiroko. It’s a valuable instrument.”</p>
     <p>“I have another, Bliss. Not quite as good, but that is how it should be. This instrument belongeth to the person who playeth it best. Never have I heard such music and it would be wrong for me to own an instrument I cannot use to full potential. Would that I knew how the instrument could be made to play without being touched.”</p>
     <p>Fallom took the flute and, with an expression of deep content, held it tightly to her chest.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>83.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Each of the two rooms of their quarters were lit by one flourescent light. The outhouse had a third. The lights were dim, and were uncomfortable to read by, but at least the rooms were no longer dark.</p>
     <p>Yet they now lingered outside. The sky was full of stars, something that was always fascinating to a native of Terminus, where the night sky was all but starless and in which only the faint foreshortened cloud of the Galaxy was prominent.</p>
     <p>Hiroko had accompanied them back to their chambers for fear they would get lost in the dark, or that they would stumble. All the way back, she held Fallom’s hand, and then, after lighting the flourescents for them, remained outside with them, still clutching at the youngster.</p>
     <p>Bliss tried again, for it was clear to her that Hiroko was in a state of a difficult conflict of emotions. “Really, Hiroko, we cannot take your flute.”</p>
     <p>“No, Fallom must have it.” But she seemed on edge just the same.</p>
     <p>Trevize continued to look at the sky. The night was truly dark, a darkness that was scarcely affected by the trickle of light from their own chambers; and much less so by the tiny sparks of other houses farther off.</p>
     <p>He said, “Hiroko, do you see that star that is so bright? What is it called?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko looked up casually and said, with no great appearance of interest, “That’s the Companion.”</p>
     <p>“Why is it called that?”</p>
     <p>“It circleth our sun every eighty Standard Years. It is an evening star at this time of year. Thou canst see it in daytime, too, when it lieth above the horizon.”</p>
     <p>Good, thought Trevize. She’s not totally ignorant of astronomy. He said, “Do you know that Alpha has another companion, a very small, dim one that’s much much farther away than that bright star. You can’t see it without a telescope.” (He hadn’t seen it himself, hadn’t bothered to search for it, but the ship’s computer had the information in its memory banks.)</p>
     <p>She said indifferently, “We were told that in school.”</p>
     <p>“But now what about that one? You see those six stars in a zigzag line?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, “That is Cassiopeia.”</p>
     <p>“Really?” said Trevize, startled. “Which star?”</p>
     <p>“All of them. The whole zigzag. It is Cassiopeia.”</p>
     <p>“Why is it called that?”</p>
     <p>“I lack the knowledge. I know nothing of astronomy, respected Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“Do you see the lowermost star in the zigzag, the one that’s brighter than the other stars? What is that?”</p>
     <p>“It is a star. I know not its name.”</p>
     <p>“But except for the two companion stars, it’s the closest of all the stars to Alpha. It is only a parsec away.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, “Sayest thou so? I know that not.”</p>
     <p>“Might it not be the star about which Earth revolves?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko looked at the star with a faint flash of interest. “I know not. I have never heard any person say so.”</p>
     <p>“Don’t you think it might be?”</p>
     <p>“How can I say? None knoweth where Earth might be. I—I must leave thee, now. I will be taking my shift in the fields tomorrow morning before the beach festival. I’ll see you all there, right after lunch. Yes? Yes?”</p>
     <p>“Certainly, Hiroko.”</p>
     <p>She left suddenly, half-running in the dark. Trevize looked after her, then followed the others into the dimly lit cottage.</p>
     <p>He said, “Can you tell whether she was lying about Earth, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head. “I don’t think she was. She is under enormous tension, something I was not aware of until after the concert. It existed before you asked her about the stars.”</p>
     <p>“Because she gave away her flute, then?”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps. I can’t tell.” She turned to Fallom. “Now, Fallom, I want you to go into your room. When you’re ready for bed, go to the outhouse, use the potty, then wash your hands, your face, and your teeth.”</p>
     <p>“I would like to play the flute, Bliss.”</p>
     <p>“Just for a little while, and <emphasis>very</emphasis> quietly. Do you understand, Fallom? And you must stop when I tell you to.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, Bliss.”</p>
     <p>The three were now alone; Bliss in the one chair and the men sitting each on his cot.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Is there any point in staying on this planet any longer?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “We never did get to discuss Earth in connection with the ancient instruments, and we might find something there. It might also pay to wait for the fishing fleet to return. The men might know something the stay-at-homes don’t.”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>Very</emphasis> unlikely, I think,” said Bliss. “Are you sure it’s not Hiroko’s dark eyes that hold you?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said impatiently, “I don’t understand, Bliss. What have you to do with what I choose to do? Why do you seem to arrogate to yourself the right of sitting in moral judgment on me?”</p>
     <p>“I’m not concerned with your morals. The matter affects our expedition. You want to find Earth so that you can finally decide whether you are right in choosing Galaxia over Isolate worlds. I want you to so decide. You say you need to visit Earth to make the decision and you seem to be convinced that Earth revolves about that bright star in the sky. Let us go there, then. I admit it would be useful to have some information about it before we go, but it is clear to me that the information is not forthcoming here. I do not wish to remain simply because you enjoy Hiroko.”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps we’ll leave,” said Trevize. “Let me think about it, and Hiroko will play no part in my decision, I assure you.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I feel we ought to move on to Earth, if only to see whether it is radioactive or not. I see no point in waiting longer.”</p>
     <p>“Are you sure it’s not Bliss’s dark eyes that drive you?” said Trevize, a bit spitefully. Then, almost at once, “No, I take that back, Janov. I was just being childish. Still—this is a charming world, quite apart from Hiroko, and I must say that under other circumstances, I would be tempted to remain indefinitely. —Don’t you think, Bliss, that Alpha destroys your theory about Isolates?”</p>
     <p>“In what way?” asked Bliss.</p>
     <p>“You’ve been maintaining that every truly isolated world turns dangerous and hostile.”</p>
     <p>“Even Comporellon,” said Bliss evenly, “which is rather out of the main current of Galactic activity for all that it is, in theory, an Associated Power of the Foundation Federation.”</p>
     <p>“But <emphasis>not</emphasis> Alpha. This world is totally isolated, but can you complain of their friendliness and hospitality? They feed us, clothe us, shelter us, put on festivals in our honor, urge us to stay on. What fault is there to find with them?”</p>
     <p>“None, apparently. Hiroko even gives you her body.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said angrily, “Bliss, what bothers you about that? She didn’t give me her body. We gave each other our bodies. It was entirely mutual, entirely pleasurable. Nor can you say that you hesitate to give your body as it suits you.”</p>
     <p>“Please, Bliss,” said Pelorat. “Golan is entirely right. There is no reason to object to his private pleasures.”</p>
     <p>“As long as they don’t affect us,” said Bliss obdurately.</p>
     <p>“They do not affect us,” said Trevize. “We will leave, I assure you. A delay to search further for information will not be long.”</p>
     <p>“Yet I don’t trust Isolates,” said Bliss, “even when they come bearing gifts.”</p>
     <p>Trevize flung up his arms. “Reach a conclusion, then twist the evidence to fit. How like a—”</p>
     <p>“Don’t say it,” said Bliss dangerously. “I am not a woman. I am Gaia. It is Gaia, not I, who is uneasy.”</p>
     <p>“There is no reason to—” And at that point there was a scratching at the door.</p>
     <p>Trevize froze. “What’s that?” he said, in a low voice.</p>
     <p>Bliss shrugged lightly. “Open the door and see. You tell us this is a kindly world that offers no danger.”</p>
     <p>Nevertheless, Trevize hesitated, until a soft voice from the other side of the door called out softly, “Please. It is I!”</p>
     <p>It was Hiroko’s voice. Trevize threw the door open.</p>
     <p>Hiroko entered quickly. Her cheeks were wet.</p>
     <p>“Close the door,” she gasped.</p>
     <p>“What is it?” asked Bliss.</p>
     <p>Hiroko clutched at Trevize. “I could not stay away. I tried, but I endured it not. Go thou, and all of you. Take the youngster with you quickly. Take the ship away—away from Alpha—while it is yet dark.”</p>
     <p>“But why?” asked Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Because else wilt thou die; and all of you.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>84.</p>
     </title>
     <p>The three Outworlders stared frozenly at Hiroko for a long moment. Then Trevize said, “Are you saying your people will kill us?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, as the tears rolled down her cheeks, “Thou art already on the road to death, respected Trevize. And the others with you. —Long ago, those of learning devised a virus, harmless to us, but deadly to Outworlders. We have been made immune.” She shook Trevize’s arm in distraction. “Thou art infected.”</p>
     <p>“How?”</p>
     <p>“When we had our pleasure. It is one way.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “But I feel entirely well.”</p>
     <p>“The virus is as yet inactive. It will be made active when the fishing fleet returns. By our laws, all must decide on such a thing—even the men. All will surely decide it must be done, and we keep you here till that time, two mornings hence. Leave now while it is yet dark and none suspects.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said sharply, “Why do your people do this?”</p>
     <p>“For our safety. We are few and have much. We do not wish Outworlders to intrude. If one cometh and then reporteth our lot, others will come, and so when, once in a long while, a ship arriveth, we must make certain it leaveth not.”</p>
     <p>“But then,” said Trevize, “why do you warn us away?”</p>
     <p>“Ask not the reason. —Nay, but I will tell you, since I hear it again. Listen—”</p>
     <p>From the next room, they could hear Fallom playing softly—and infinitely sweetly.</p>
     <p>Hiroko said, “I cannot bear the destruction of that music, for the young one will also die.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said sternly, “Is that why you gave the flute to Fallom? Because you knew you would have it once again when she was dead?”</p>
     <p>Hiroko looked horrified. “Nay, that was not in my mind. And when it came to mind at length, I knew it must not be done. Leave with the child, and with her, take the flute that I may never see it more. Thou wilt be safe back in space and, left inactive, the virus now in thy body will die after a time. In return, I ask that none of you ever speak of this world, that none else may know of it.”</p>
     <p>“We will not speak of it,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>Hiroko looked up. In a lower voice, she said, “May I not kiss thee once ere thou leavest?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “No. I have been infected once and surely that is enough.” And then, a little less roughly, he added, “Don’t cry. People will ask why you are crying and you’ll be unable to reply. —I’ll forgive what you did to me in view of your present effort to save us.”</p>
     <p>Hiroko straightened, carefully wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands, took a deep breath, and said, “I thank thee for that,” and left quickly.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “We will put out the light, and we will wait awhile, and then we will leave. —Bliss, tell Fallom to stop playing her instrument. Remember to take the flute, of course. —Then we will make our way to the ship, if we can find it in the dark.”</p>
     <p>“I will find it,” said Bliss. “Clothing of mine is on board and, however dimly, that, too, is Gaia. Gaia will have no trouble finding Gaia.” And she vanished into her room to collect Fallom.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Do you suppose that they’ve managed to damage our ship in order to keep us on the planet?”</p>
     <p>“They lack the technology to do it,” said Trevize grimly. When Bliss emerged, holding Fallom by the hand, Trevize put out the lights.</p>
     <p>They sat quietly in the dark for what seemed half the night, and might have been half an hour. Then Trevize slowly and silently opened the door. The sky seemed a bit more cloudy, but stars shone. High in the sky now was Cassiopeia, with what might be Earth’s sun burning brightly at its lower tip. The air was still and there was no sound.</p>
     <p>Carefully, Trevize stepped out, motioning the others to follow. One of his hands dropped, almost automatically, to the butt of his neuronic whip. He was sure he would not have to use it, but—</p>
     <p>Bliss took the lead, holding Pelorat’s hand, who held Trevize’s. Bliss’s other hand held Fallom, and Fallom’s other hand held the flute. Feeling gently with her feet in the nearly total darkness, Bliss guided the others toward where she felt, very weakly, the Gaianess of her clothing on board the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis>.</p>
    </section>
   </section>
  </section>
  <section>
   <title>
    <p>PART VII</p>
    <p>EARTH</p>
   </title>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>19</p>
     <p>RADIOACTIVE?</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>85.</p>
     </title>
     <p>The <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> took off quietly, rising slowly through the atmosphere, leaving the dark island below. The few faint dots of light beneath them dimmed and vanished, and as the atmosphere grew thinner with height, the ship’s speed grew greater, and the dots of light in the sky above them grew more numerous and brighter.</p>
     <p>Eventually, they looked down upon the planet, Alpha, with only a crescent illuminated and that crescent largely wreathed in clouds.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I suppose they don’t have an active space technology. They can’t follow us.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not sure that that cheers me up much,” said Trevize, his face dour, his voice disheartened. “I’m infected.”</p>
     <p>“But with an inactive strain,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“Still, it can be made active. They had a method. What is the method?”</p>
     <p>Bliss shrugged. “Hiroko said the virus, left inactive, would eventually die in a body unadapted to it—as yours is.”</p>
     <p>“Yes?” said Trevize angrily. “How does she know that? For that matter, how do I know that Hiroko’s statement wasn’t a self-consoling lie? And isn’t it possible that the method of activation, whatever it is, might not be duplicated naturally? A particular chemical, a type of radiation, a—a—who knows what? I may sicken suddenly, and then the three of you would die, too. Or if it happens after we have reached a populated world, there may be a vicious pandemic which fleeing refugees would carry to other worlds.”</p>
     <p>He looked at Bliss. “Is there something you can do about it?”</p>
     <p>Slowly, Bliss shook her head. “Not easily. There are parasites making up Gaia—microorganisms, worms. They are a benign part of the ecological balance. They live and contribute to the world consciousness, but never over-grow. They live without doing noticeable harm. The trouble is, Trevize, the virus that affects you is not part of Gaia.”</p>
     <p>“You say ‘not easily,’?” said Trevize, frowning. “Under the circumstances, can you take the trouble to do it even though it might be difficult? Can you locate the virus in me and destroy it? Can you, failing that, at least strengthen my defenses?”</p>
     <p>“Do you realize what you ask, Trevize? I am not acquainted with the microscopic flora of your body. I might not easily tell a virus in the cells of your body from the normal genes inhabiting them. It would be even more difficult to distinguish between viruses your body is accustomed to and those with which Hiroko infected you. I will try to do it, Trevize, but it will take time and I may not succeed.”</p>
     <p>“Take time,” said Trevize. “Try.”</p>
     <p>“Certainly,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “If Hiroko told the truth, Bliss, you might be able to find viruses that seem to be already diminishing in vitality, and you could accelerate their decline.”</p>
     <p>“I could do that,” said Bliss. “It is a good thought.”</p>
     <p>“You won’t weaken?” said Trevize. “You will have to destroy precious bits of life when you kill those viruses, you know.”</p>
     <p>“You are being sardonic, Trevize,” said Bliss coolly, “but, sardonic or not, you are pointing out a true difficulty. Still, I can scarcely fail to put you ahead of the virus. I will kill them if I have the chance, never fear. After all, even if I fail to consider you”—and her mouth twitched as though she were repressing a smile—“then certainly Pelorat and Fallom are also at risk, and you might feel more confidence in my feeling for them than in my feeling for you. You might even remember that I myself am at risk.”</p>
     <p>“I have no faith in your self-love,” muttered Trevize. “You’re perfectly ready to give up your life for some high motive. I’ll accept your concern for Pelorat, however.” Then, he said, “I don’t hear Fallom’s flute. Is anything wrong with her?”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Bliss. “She’s asleep. A perfectly natural sleep that I had nothing to do with. And I would suggest that, after you work out the Jump to the star we think is Earth’s sun, we all do likewise. I need it badly and I suspect you do, too, Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, if I can manage. —You were right, you know, Bliss.”</p>
     <p>“About what, Trevize?”</p>
     <p>“About Isolates. New Earth was not a paradise, however much it might have seemed like one. That hospitality—all that outgoing friendliness at first—was to put us off our guard, so that one of us might be easily infected. And all the hospitality afterward, the festivals of this and that, were designed to keep us there till the fishing fleet returned and the activation could be carried through. And it would have worked but for Fallom and her music. It might be you were right there, too.”</p>
     <p>“About Fallom?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. I didn’t want to take her along, and I’ve never been happy with her being on the ship. It was your doing, Bliss, that we have her here and it was she who, unwittingly, saved us. And yet—”</p>
     <p>“And yet what?”</p>
     <p>“Despite that, I’m <emphasis>still</emphasis> uneasy at Fallom’s presence. I don’t know why.”</p>
     <p>“If it will make you feel better, Trevize, I don’t know that we can lay all the credit at Fallom’s feet. Hiroko advanced Fallom’s music as her excuse for committing what the other Alphans would surely consider to be an act of treason. She may even have believed this, but there was something in her mind in addition, something that I vaguely detected but could not surely identify, something that perhaps she was ashamed to let emerge into her conscious mind. I am under the impression that she felt a warmth for you, and would not willingly see you die, regardless of Fallom and her music.”</p>
     <p>“Do you really think so?” said Trevize, smiling slightly for the first time since they had left Alpha.</p>
     <p>“I think so. You must have a certain proficiency at dealing with women. You persuaded Minister Lizalor to allow us to take our ship and leave Comporellon, and you helped influence Hiroko to save our lives. Credit where it’s due.”</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled more broadly. “Well, if you say so. —On to Earth, then.” He disappeared into the pilot-room with a step that was almost jaunty.</p>
     <p>Pelorat, lingering behind, said, “You soothed him after all, didn’t you, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“No, Pelorat, I never touched his mind.”</p>
     <p>“You certainly did when you pampered his male vanity so outrageously.”</p>
     <p>“Entirely indirect,” said Bliss, smiling.</p>
     <p>“Even so, thank you, Bliss.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>86.</p>
     </title>
     <p>After the jump, the star that might well be Earth’s sun was still a tenth of a parsec away. It was the brightest object in the sky by far, but it was still no more than a star.</p>
     <p>Trevize kept its light filtered for ease of viewing, and studied it somberly.</p>
     <p>He said, “There seems no doubt that it is the virtual twin of Alpha, the star that New Earth circles. Yet Alpha is in the computer map and this star is not. We don’t have a name for this star, we aren’t given its statistics, we lack any information concerning its planetary system, if it has one.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Isn’t that what we would expect if Earth circles this sun? Such a blackout of information would fit with the fact that all information about Earth seems to have been eliminated.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, but it could also mean that it’s a Spacer world that just happened not to be on the list on the wall of the Melpomenian building. We can’t be altogether sure that that list was complete. Or this star could be without planets and therefore perhaps not worth listing on a computer map which is primarily used for military and commercial purposes. —Janov, is there any legend that tells of Earth’s sun being a mere parsec or so from a twin of itself.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shook his head. “I’m sorry, Golan, but no such legend occurs to me. There may be one, though. My memory isn’t perfect. I’ll search for it.”</p>
     <p>“It’s not important. Is there any name given to Earth’s sun?”</p>
     <p>“Some different names are given. I imagine there must be a name in each of the different languages.”</p>
     <p>“I keep forgetting that Earth had many languages.”</p>
     <p>“It must have had. It’s the only way of making sense out of many of the legends.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said peevishly, “Well, then, what do we do? We can’t tell anything about the planetary system from this distance, and we have to move closer. I would like to be cautious, but there’s such a thing as excessive and unreasoning caution, and I see no evidence of possible danger. Presumably anything powerful enough to wipe the Galaxy clean of information about Earth may be powerful enough to wipe us out even at this distance if they seriously did not wish to be located, but nothing’s happened. It isn’t rational to stay here forever on the mere possibility that something might happen if we move closer, is it?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “I take it the computer detects nothing that might be interpreted as dangerous.”</p>
     <p>“When I say I see no evidence of possible danger, it’s the computer I’m relying on. I certainly can’t see anything with the unaided eye. I wouldn’t expect to.”</p>
     <p>“Then I take it you’re just looking for support in making what you consider a risky decision. All right, then. I’m with you. We haven’t come this far in order to turn back for no reason, have we?”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Trevize. “What do you say, Pelorat?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I’m willing to move on, if only out of curiosity. It would be unbearable to go back without knowing if we have found Earth.”</p>
     <p>“Well, then,” said Trevize, “we’re all agreed.”</p>
     <p>“Not all,” said Pelorat. “There’s Fallom.”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked astonished. “Are you suggesting we consult the child? Of what value would her opinion be even if she had one? Besides, all she would want would be to get back to her own world.”</p>
     <p>“Can you blame her for that?” asked Bliss warmly.</p>
     <p>And because the matter of Fallom had arisen, Trevize became aware of her flute, which was sounding in a rather stirring march rhythm.</p>
     <p>“Listen to her,” he said. “Where has she ever heard anything in march rhythm?”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps Jemby played marches on the flute for her.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shook his head. “I doubt it. Dance rhythms, I should think, lullabies. —Listen, Fallom makes me uneasy. She learns too quickly.”</p>
     <p>“I <emphasis>help</emphasis> her,” said Bliss. “Remember that. And she’s <emphasis>very</emphasis> intelligent and she has been extraordinarily stimulated in the time she’s been with us. New sensations have flooded her mind. She’s seen space, different worlds, many people, all for the first time.”</p>
     <p>Fallom’s march music grew wilder and more richly barbaric.</p>
     <p>Trevize sighed and said, “Well, she’s here, and she’s producing music that seems to breathe optimism, and delight in adventure. I’ll take that as her vote in favor of moving in more closely. Let us do so cautiously, then, and check this sun’s planetary system.”</p>
     <p>“If any,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled thinly. “There’s a planetary system. It’s a bet. Choose your sum.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>87.</p>
     </title>
     <p>“You lose,” said Trevize abstractedly. “How much money did you decide to bet?”</p>
     <p>“None. I never accepted the wager,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“Just as well. I wouldn’t like to accept the money, anyway.”</p>
     <p>They were some 10 billion kilometers from the sun. It was still star-like, but it was nearly 1/4,000 as bright as the average sun would have been when viewed from the surface of a habitable planet.</p>
     <p>“We can see two planets under magnification, right now,” said Trevize. “From their measured diameters and from the spectrum of the reflected light, they are clearly gas giants.”</p>
     <p>The ship was well outside the planetary plane, and Bliss and Pelorat, staring over Trevize’s shoulder at the viewscreen, found themselves looking at two tiny crescents of greenish light. The smaller was in the somewhat thicker phase of the two.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Janov! It is correct, isn’t it, that Earth’s sun is suppose to have four gas giants.”</p>
     <p>“According to the legends. Yes,” said Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“The nearest of the four to the sun is the largest, and the second nearest has rings. Right?”</p>
     <p>“Large prominent rings, Golan. Yes. Just the same, old chap, you have to allow for exaggeration in the telling and retelling of a legend. If we should not find a planet with an extraordinary ring system, I don’t think we ought to let that count seriously against this being Earth’s star.”</p>
     <p>“Nevertheless, the two we see may be the farthest, and the two nearer ones may well be on the other side of the sun and too far to be easily located against the background of stars. We’ll have to move still closer—and beyond the sun to the other side.”</p>
     <p>“Can that be done in the presence of the star’s nearby mass?”</p>
     <p>“With reasonable caution, the computer can do it, I’m sure. If it judges the danger to be too great, however, it will refuse to budge us, and we can then move in cautious, smaller steps.”</p>
     <p>His mind directed the computer—and the starfield on the viewscreen changed. The star brightened sharply and then moved off the viewscreen as the computer, following directions, scanned the sky for another gas giant. It did so successfully.</p>
     <p>All three onlookers stiffened and stared, while Trevize’s mind, almost helpless with astonishment, fumbled at the computer to direct further magnification.</p>
     <p>“Incredible,” gasped Bliss.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>88.</p>
     </title>
     <p>A gas giant was in view, seen at an angle that allowed most of it to be sunlit. About it, there curved a broad and brilliant ring of material, tipped so as to catch the sunlight on the side being viewed. It was brighter than the planet itself and along it, one third of the way in toward the planet, was a narrow, dividing line.</p>
     <p>Trevize threw in a request for maximum enhancement and the ring became ringlets, narrow and concentric, glittering in the sunlight. Only a portion of the ring system was visible on the viewscreen and the planet itself had moved off. A further direction from Trevize and one corner of the screen marked itself off and showed, within itself, a miniature of the planet and rings under lesser magnification.</p>
     <p>“Is that sort of thing common?” asked Bliss, awed.</p>
     <p>“No,” said Trevize. “Almost every gas giant has rings of debris, but they tend to be faint and narrow. I once saw one in which the rings were narrow, but quite bright. But I never saw anything like this; or heard of it, either.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “That’s clearly the ringed giant the legends speak of. If this is really unique—”</p>
     <p>“Really unique, as far as I know, or as far as the computer knows,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Then this <emphasis>must</emphasis> be the planetary system containing Earth. Surely, no one could invent such a planet. It would have had to have been seen to be described.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “I’m prepared to believe just about anything your legends say now. This is the sixth planet and Earth would be the third?”</p>
     <p>“Right, Golan.”</p>
     <p>“Then I would say we were less than 1.5 billion kilometers from Earth, and we haven’t been stopped. Gaia stopped us when we approached.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “You were closer to Gaia when you were stopped.”</p>
     <p>“Ah,” said Trevize, “but it’s my opinion Earth is more powerful than Gaia, and I take this to be a good sign. If we are not stopped, it may be that Earth does not object to our approach.”</p>
     <p>“Or that there is no Earth,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“Do you care to bet this time?” asked Trevize grimly.</p>
     <p>“What I think Bliss means,” put in Pelorat, “is that Earth may be radioactive as everyone seems to think, and that no one stops us because there is no life on the Earth.”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Trevize violently. “I’ll believe everything that’s said about Earth, <emphasis>but</emphasis> that. We’ll just close in on Earth and see for ourselves. And I have the feeling we won’t be stopped.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>89.</p>
     </title>
     <p>The gas giants were well behind. An asteroid belt lay just inside the gas giant nearest the sun. (That gas giant was the largest and most massive, just as the legends said.)</p>
     <p>Inside the asteroid belt were four planets.</p>
     <p>Trevize studied them carefully. “The third is the largest. The size is appropriate and the distance from the sun is appropriate. It could be habitable.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat caught what seemed to be a note of uncertainty in Trevize’s words.</p>
     <p>He said, “Does it have an atmosphere?”</p>
     <p>“Oh yes,” said Trevize. “The second, third, and fourth planets all have atmospheres. And, as in the old children’s tale, the second’s is too dense, the fourth’s is not dense enough, but the third’s is just right.”</p>
     <p>“Do you think it might be Earth, then?”</p>
     <p>“Think?” said Trevize almost explosively. “I don’t have to think. It <emphasis>is</emphasis> Earth. It has the giant satellite you told me of.”</p>
     <p>“It has?” And Pelorat’s face broke into a wider smile than any that Trevize had ever seen upon it.</p>
     <p>“Absolutely! Here, look at it under maximum magnification.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat saw two crescents, one distinctly larger and brighter than the other.</p>
     <p>“Is that smaller one the satellite?” he asked.</p>
     <p>“Yes. It’s rather farther from the planet than one might expect but it’s definitely revolving about it. It’s only the size of a small planet; in fact, it’s smaller than any of the four inner planets circling the sun. Still, it’s large for a satellite. It’s at least two thousand kilometers in diameter, which makes it in the size range of the large satellites that revolve about gas giants.”</p>
     <p>“No larger?” Pelorat seemed disappointed. “Then it’s not a giant satellite?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, it is. A satellite with a diameter of two to three thousand kilometers that is circling an enormous gas giant is one thing. That same satellite circling a small, rocky habitable planet is quite another. That satellite has a diameter over a quarter that of Earth. Where have you heard of such near-parity involving a habitable planet?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said timidly, “I know very little of such things.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Then take my word for it, Janov. It’s unique. We’re looking at something that is practically a double planet, and there are few habitable planets that have anything more than pebbles orbiting them. —Janov, if you consider that gas giant with its enormous ring system in sixth place, and this planet with its enormous satellite in third—both of which your legends told you about, against all credibility, before you ever saw them—then that world you’re looking at <emphasis>must</emphasis> be Earth. It cannot conceivably be anything else. We’ve found it, Janov; we’ve found it.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>90.</p>
     </title>
     <p>They were on the second day of their coasting progress toward Earth, and Bliss yawned over the dinner meal. She said, “It seems to me we’ve spent more time coasting toward and away from planets than anything else. We’ve spent weeks at it, literally.”</p>
     <p>“Partly,” said Trevize, “that’s because Jumps are dangerous <emphasis>too</emphasis> close to a star. And in <emphasis>this</emphasis> case, we’re moving very slowly because I do not wish to advance into possible danger too quickly.”</p>
     <p>“I thought you said you had the feeling we would not be stopped.”</p>
     <p>“So I do, but I don’t want to stake everything on a feeling.” Trevize looked at the contents of the spoon before putting it into his mouth and said, “You know, I miss the fish we had on Alpha. We only had three meals there.”</p>
     <p>“A pity,” agreed Pelorat.</p>
     <p>“Well,” said Bliss, “we visited five worlds and had to leave each one of them so hurriedly that we never had time to add to our food supplies and introduce variety. Even when the world had food to offer, as did Comporellon and Alpha, and, presumably—”</p>
     <p>She did not complete the sentence, for Fallom, looking up quickly, finished it for her. “Solaria? Could you get no food there? There is plenty of food there. As much as on Alpha. And better, too.”</p>
     <p>“I know that, Fallom,” said Bliss. “There was just no time.”</p>
     <p>Fallom stared at her solemnly. “Will I ever see Jemby again, Bliss? Tell me the truth.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “You may, if we return to Solaria.”</p>
     <p>“Will we ever return to Solaria?”</p>
     <p>Bliss hesitated. “I cannot say.”</p>
     <p>“Now we go to Earth, is that right? Isn’t that the planet where you say we all originate?”</p>
     <p>“Where our <emphasis>forebears</emphasis> originated,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“I can say ‘ancestors,’?” said Fallom.</p>
     <p>“Yes, we are going to Earth.”</p>
     <p>“Why?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said lightly, “Wouldn’t anyone wish to see the world of their ancestors?”</p>
     <p>“I think there’s more to it. You all seem so concerned.”</p>
     <p>“But we’ve never been there before. We don’t know what to expect.”</p>
     <p>“I think it is more than that.”</p>
     <p>Bliss smiled. “You’ve finished eating, Fallom dear, so why not go to the room and let us have a little serenade on your flute. You’re playing it more beautifully all the time. Come, come.” She gave Fallom an accelerating pat on the rear end, and off Fallom went, turning only once to give Trevize a thoughtful look.</p>
     <p>Trevize looked after her with clear distaste. “Does that thing read minds?”</p>
     <p>“Don’t call her a ‘thing,’ Trevize,” said Bliss sharply.</p>
     <p>“Does she read minds? You ought to be able to tell.”</p>
     <p>“No, she doesn’t. Nor can Gaia. Nor can the Second Foundationers. Reading minds in the sense of overhearing a conversation, or making out precise ideas is not something that can be done now, or in the foreseeable future. We can detect, interpret, and, to some extent, manipulate emotions, but that is not the same thing at all.”</p>
     <p>“How do you know she can’t do this thing that supposedly can’t be done?”</p>
     <p>“Because as you have just said, I ought to be able to tell.”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps she is manipulating you so that you remain ignorant of the fact that she can.”</p>
     <p>Bliss rolled her eyes upward. “Be reasonable, Trevize. Even if she had unusual abilities, she could do nothing with me for I am not Bliss, I am Gaia. You keep forgetting. Do you know the mental inertia represented by an entire planet? Do you think one Isolate, however talented, can overcome that?”</p>
     <p>“You don’t know everything, Bliss, so don’t be overconfident,” said Trevize sullenly. “That th— <emphasis>She</emphasis> has been with us not very long. I couldn’t learn anything but the rudiments of a language in that time, yet she already speaks Galactic perfectly and with virtually a full vocabulary. Yes, I know you’ve been helping her, but I wish you would stop.”</p>
     <p>“I told you I was helping her, but I also told you she’s fearfully intelligent. Intelligent enough so that I would like to have her part of Gaia. If we can gather her in; if she’s still young enough; we might learn enough about the Solarians to absorb that entire world eventually. It might well be useful to us.”</p>
     <p>“Does it occur to you that the Solarians are pathological Isolates even by <emphasis>my</emphasis> standards?”</p>
     <p>“They wouldn’t stay so as part of Gaia.”</p>
     <p>“I think you’re wrong, Bliss. I think that Solarian child is dangerous and that we should get rid of her.”</p>
     <p>“How? Dump her through the airlock? Kill her, chop her up, and add her to our food supply?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Oh, Bliss.”</p>
     <p>And Trevize said, “That’s disgusting, and completely uncalled for.” He listened for a moment. The flute was sounding without flaw or waver, and they had been talking in half-whispers. “When this is all over, we’ve got to return her to Solaria, and make sure that Solaria is forever cut off from the Galaxy. My own feeling is that it should be destroyed. I distrust and fear it.”</p>
     <p>Bliss thought awhile and said, “Trevize, I know that you have the knack of coming to a right decision, but I also know you have been antipathetic to Fallom from the start. I suspect that may just be because you were humiliated on Solaria and have taken a violent hatred to the planet and its inhabitants as a result. Since I must not tamper with your mind, I can’t tell that for sure. Please remember that if we had not taken Fallom with us, we would be on Alpha right now—dead and, I presume, buried.”</p>
     <p>“I know that, Bliss, but even so—”</p>
     <p>“And her intelligence is to be admired, not envied.”</p>
     <p>“I do not envy her. I fear her.”</p>
     <p>“Her intelligence?”</p>
     <p>Trevize licked his lips thoughtfully. “No, not quite.”</p>
     <p>“What, then?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know. Bliss, if I knew what I feared, I might not have to fear it. It’s something I don’t quite understand.” His voice lowered, as though he were speaking to himself. “The Galaxy seems to be crowded with things I don’t understand. Why did I choose Gaia? Why must I find Earth? Is there a missing assumption in psychohistory? If there is, what is it? And on top of all that, why does Fallom make me uneasy?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Unfortunately, I can’t answer those questions.” She rose, and left the room.</p>
     <p>Pelorat looked after her, then said, “Surely things aren’t totally black, Golan. We’re getting closer and closer to Earth and once we reach it all mysteries may be solved. And so far nothing seems to be making any effort to stop us from reaching it.”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s eyes flickered toward Pelorat and he said in a low voice, “I wish something would.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “You do? Why should you want that?”</p>
     <p>“Frankly, I’d welcome a sign of life.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat’s eyes opened wide. “Have you found that Earth is radioactive after all?”</p>
     <p>“Not quite. But it is warm. A bit warmer than I would have expected.”</p>
     <p>“Is that bad?”</p>
     <p>“Not necessarily. It may be rather warm but that wouldn’t make it necessarily uninhabitable. The cloud cover is thick and it is definitely water vapor, so that those clouds, together with a copious water ocean, could tend to keep things livable despite the temperature we calculated from microwave emission. I can’t be sure, yet. It’s just that—”</p>
     <p>“Yes, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“Well, if Earth <emphasis>were</emphasis> radioactive, that might well account for its being warmer than expected.”</p>
     <p>“But that doesn’t argue the reverse, does it? If it’s warmer than expected, that doesn’t mean it <emphasis>must</emphasis> be radioactive.”</p>
     <p>“No. No, it doesn’t.” Trevize managed to force a smile. “No use brooding, Janov. In a day or two, I’ll be able to tell more about it and we’ll know for sure.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>91.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Fallom was sitting on the cot in deep thought when Bliss came into the room. Fallom looked up briefly, then down again.</p>
     <p>Bliss said quietly, “What’s the matter, Fallom?”</p>
     <p>Fallom said, “Why does Trevize dislike me so much, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“What makes you think he dislikes you?”</p>
     <p>“He looks at me impatiently— Is that the word?”</p>
     <p>“It might be the word.”</p>
     <p>“He looks at me impatiently when I am near him. His face always twists a little.”</p>
     <p>“Trevize is having a hard time, Fallom.”</p>
     <p>“Because he’s looking for Earth?”</p>
     <p>“Yes.”</p>
     <p>Fallom thought awhile, then said, “He is particularly impatient when I think something into moving.”</p>
     <p>Bliss’s lips tightened. “Now, Fallom, didn’t I tell you you must not do that, especially when Trevize is present?”</p>
     <p>“Well, it was yesterday, right here in this room, and he was in the doorway and I didn’t notice. I didn’t know he was watching. It was just one of Pel’s book-films, anyway, and I was trying to make it stand on one tip. I wasn’t doing any harm.”</p>
     <p>“It makes him nervous, Fallom, and I want you not to do it, whether he’s watching or not.”</p>
     <p>“Does it make him nervous because he can’t do it?”</p>
     <p>“Perhaps.”</p>
     <p>“Can you do it?”</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head slowly. “No, I can’t.”</p>
     <p>“It doesn’t make <emphasis>you</emphasis> nervous when I do it. It doesn’t make Pel nervous, either.”</p>
     <p>“People are different.”</p>
     <p>“I know,” said Fallom, with a sudden hardness that surprised Bliss and caused her to frown.</p>
     <p>“What do you know, Fallom?”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>I’m</emphasis> different.”</p>
     <p>“Of course, I just said so. People are different.”</p>
     <p>“My shape is different. I can move things.”</p>
     <p>“That’s true.”</p>
     <p>Fallom said, with a shade of rebelliousness, “I <emphasis>must</emphasis> move things. Trevize should not be angry with me for that, and you should not stop me.”</p>
     <p>“But why must you move things?”</p>
     <p>“It is practice. Exerceez. —Is that the right word?”</p>
     <p>“Not quite. Exercise.”</p>
     <p>“Yes. Jemby always said I must train my—my—”</p>
     <p>“Transducer-lobes?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. And make them strong. Then, when I was grown up, I could power all the robots. Even Jemby.”</p>
     <p>“Fallom, who did power all the robots if you did not?”</p>
     <p>“Bander.” Fallom said it very matter-of-factly.</p>
     <p>“Did you know Bander?”</p>
     <p>“Of course. I viewed him many times. I was to be the next estate-head. The Bander estate would become the Fallom estate. Jemby told me so.”</p>
     <p>“You mean Bander came to your—”</p>
     <p>Fallom’s mouth made a perfect O of shock. She said in a choked voice, “Bander would never come to—” The youngster ran out of breath and panted a bit, then said, “I <emphasis>viewed</emphasis> Bander’s image.”</p>
     <p>Bliss asked hesitantly, “How did Bander treat you?”</p>
     <p>Fallom looked at Bliss with a faintly puzzled eye. “Bander would ask me if I needed anything; if I was comfortable. But Jemby was always near me so I never needed anything and I was always comfortable.”</p>
     <p>Her head bent and she stared at the floor. Then she placed her hands over her eyes and said, “But Jemby stopped. I think it was because Bander—stopped, too.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Why do you say that?”</p>
     <p>“I’ve been thinking about it. Bander powered all the robots, and if Jemby stopped, and all the other robots, too, it must be that Bander stopped. Isn’t that so?”</p>
     <p>Bliss was silent.</p>
     <p>Fallom said, “But when you take me back to Solaria I will power Jemby and all the rest of the robots, and I will be happy again.”</p>
     <p>She was sobbing.</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Aren’t you happy with us, Fallom? Just a little? Sometimes?”</p>
     <p>Fallom lifted her tear-stained face to Bliss and her voice trembled as she shook her head and said, “I want Jemby.”</p>
     <p>In an agony of sympathy, Bliss threw her arms about the youngster. “Oh, Fallom, how I wish I could bring you and Jemby together again,” and was suddenly aware that she was weeping, too.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>92.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat entered and found them so. He halted in mid-step and said, “What’s the matter?”</p>
     <p>Bliss detached herself and fumbled for a small tissue so that she might wipe her eyes. She shook her head, and Pelorat at once said, with heightened concern, “But what’s the <emphasis>matter</emphasis>?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “Fallom, just rest a little. I’ll think of something to make things a little better for you. Remember— I love you just the same way that Jemby did.”</p>
     <p>She seized Pelorat’s elbow and rushed him out into the living room, saying, “It’s nothing, Pel. —Nothing.”</p>
     <p>“It’s Fallom, though, isn’t it? She still misses Jemby.”</p>
     <p>“Terribly. And there’s nothing we can do about it. I can tell her that I love her—and, truthfully, I do. How can you help loving a child so intelligent and gentle? —Fearfully intelligent. Trevize thinks <emphasis>too</emphasis> intelligent. She’s seen Bander in her time, you know—or viewed it, rather, as a holographic image. She’s not moved by that memory, however; she’s very cold and matter-of-fact about it, and I can understand why. There was only the fact that Bander was owner of the estate and that Fallom would be the next owner that bound them. No other relationship at all.”</p>
     <p>“Does Fallom understand that Bander is her father?”</p>
     <p>“Her <emphasis>mother</emphasis>. If we agree that Fallom is to be regarded as feminine, so is Bander.”</p>
     <p>“Either way, Bliss dear. Is Fallom aware of the parental relationship?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know that she would understand what that is. She may, of course, but she gave no hint. However, Pel, she has reasoned out that Bander is dead, for it’s dawned on her that Jemby’s inactivation must be the result of power loss and since Bander supplied the power— That frightens me.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said thoughtfully, “Why should it, Bliss? It’s only a logical inference, after all.”</p>
     <p>“Another logical inference can be drawn from that death. Deaths must be few and far distant on Solaria with its long-lived and isolated Spacers. Experience of natural death must be a limited one for any of them, and probably absent altogether for a Solarian child of Fallom’s age. If Fallom continues to think of Bander’s death, she’s going to begin to wonder <emphasis>why</emphasis> Bander died, and the fact that it happened when we strangers were on the planet will surely lead her to the obvious cause and effect.”</p>
     <p>“That we killed Bander?”</p>
     <p>“It wasn’t we who killed Bander, Pel. It was <emphasis>I</emphasis>.”</p>
     <p>“She couldn’t guess that.”</p>
     <p>“But I would have to tell her that. She is annoyed with Trevize as it is, and he is clearly the leader of the expedition. She would take it for granted that it would be he who would have brought about the death of Bander, and how could I allow Trevize to bear the blame unjustly?”</p>
     <p>“What would it matter, Bliss? The child feels nothing for her fath—mother. Only for her robot, Jemby.”</p>
     <p>“But the death of the mother meant the death of her robot, too. I almost did own up to my responsibility. I was strongly tempted.”</p>
     <p>“Why?”</p>
     <p>“So I could explain it my way. So I could soothe her, forestall her own discovery of the fact in a reasoning process that would work it out in a way that would offer no justification for it.”</p>
     <p>“But there <emphasis>was</emphasis> justification. It was self-defense. In a moment, we all would have been dead, if you had not acted.”</p>
     <p>“It’s what I would have said, but I could not bring myself to explain. I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat shook his head. He said, sighing, “Do you suppose it might have been better if we had not brought her? The situation makes you so unhappy.”</p>
     <p>“No,” said Bliss angrily, “don’t say that. It would have made me infinitely more unhappy to have to sit here right now and remember that we had left an innocent child behind to be slaughtered mercilessly because of what <emphasis>we</emphasis> had done.”</p>
     <p>“It’s the way of Fallom’s world.”</p>
     <p>“Now, Pel, don’t fall into Trevize’s way of thinking. Isolates find it possible to accept such things and think no more about it. The way of Gaia is to save life, however, not destroy it—or to sit idly by while it is destroyed. Life of all kinds must, we all know, constantly be coming to an end in order that other life might endure, but never uselessly, never to no end. Bander’s death, though unavoidable, is hard enough to bear; Fallom’s would have been past all bounds.”</p>
     <p>“Ah well,” said Pelorat, “I suppose you’re right. —And in any case, it is not the problem of Fallom concerning which I’ve come to see you. It’s Trevize.”</p>
     <p>“What about Trevize?”</p>
     <p>“Bliss, I’m worried about him. He’s waiting to determine the facts about Earth, and I’m not sure he can withstand the strain.”</p>
     <p>“I don’t fear for him. I suspect he has a sturdy and stable mind.”</p>
     <p>“We all have our limits. Listen, the planet Earth is warmer than he expected it to be; he told me so. I suspect that he thinks it may be too warm for life, though he’s clearly trying to talk himself into believing that’s not so.”</p>
     <p>“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s <emphasis>not</emphasis> too warm for life.”</p>
     <p>“Also, he admits it’s possible that the warmth might possibly arise from a radioactive crust, but he is refusing to believe that also. —In a day or two, we’ll be close enough so that the truth of the matter will be unmistakable. What if Earth <emphasis>is</emphasis> radioactive?”</p>
     <p>“Then he’ll have to accept the fact.”</p>
     <p>“But—I don’t know how to say this, or how to put it in mental terms. What if his mind—”</p>
     <p>Bliss waited, then said wryly, “Blows a fuse?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. Blows a fuse. Shouldn’t you do something now to strengthen him? Keep him level and under control, so to speak?”</p>
     <p>“No, Pel. I can’t believe he’s that fragile, and there is a firm Gaian decision that his mind must not be tampered with.”</p>
     <p>“But that’s the very point. He has this unusual ‘rightness,’ or whatever you want to call it. The shock of his entire project falling to nothingness at the moment when it seems successfully concluded may not destroy his brain, but it may destroy his ‘rightness.’ It’s a very unusual property he has. Might it not be unusually fragile, too?”</p>
     <p>Bliss remained for a moment in thought. Then she shrugged. “Well, perhaps I’ll keep an eye on him.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>93.</p>
     </title>
     <p>For the next thirty-six hours, Trevize was vaguely aware that Bliss and, to a lesser degree, Pelorat, tended to dog his footsteps. Still, that was not utterly unusual in a ship as compact as theirs, and he had other things on his mind.</p>
     <p>Now, as he sat at the computer, he was aware of them standing just inside the doorway. He looked up at them, his face blank.</p>
     <p>“Well?” he said, in a very quiet voice.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, rather awkwardly, “How are you, Golan?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Ask Bliss. She’s been staring at me intently for hours. She must be poking through my mind. —Aren’t you, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>“No, I am not,” said Bliss evenly, “but if you feel the need for my help, I can try. —Do you want my help?”</p>
     <p>“No, why should I? Leave me alone. Both of you.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Please tell us what’s going on.”</p>
     <p>“Guess!”</p>
     <p>“Is Earth—”</p>
     <p>“Yes, it is. What everyone insisted on telling us is perfectly true.” Trevize gestured at the viewscreen, where Earth presented its nightside and was eclipsing the sun. It was a solid circle of black against the starry sky, its circumference outlined by a broken orange curve.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Is that orange the radioactivity?”</p>
     <p>“No. Just refracted sunlight through the atmosphere. It would be a solid orange circle if the atmosphere weren’t so cloudy. We can’t see the radioactivity. The various radiations, even the gamma rays, are absorbed by the atmosphere. However, they do set up secondary radiations, comparatively feeble ones, but the computer can detect them. They’re still invisible to the eye, but the computer can produce a photon of visible light for each particle or wave of radiation it receives and put Earth into false color. Look.”</p>
     <p>And the black circle glowed with a faint, blotchy blue.</p>
     <p>“How much radioactivity is there?” asked Bliss, in a low voice. “Enough to signify that no human life can exist there?”</p>
     <p>“No life of any kind,” said Trevize. “The planet is uninhabitable. The last becterium, the last virus, is long gone.”</p>
     <p>“Can we explore it?” said Pelorat. “I mean, in space suits.”</p>
     <p>“For a few hours—before we come down with irreversible radiation sickness.”</p>
     <p>“Then what do we do, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“Do?” Trevize looked at Pelorat with that same expressionless face. “Do you know what I would like to do? I would like to take you and Bliss—and the child—back to Gaia and leave you all there forever. Then I would like to go back to Terminus and hand back the ship. Then I would like to resign from the Council, which ought to make Mayor Branno very happy. Then I would like to live on my pension and let the Galaxy go as it will. I won’t care about the Seldon Plan, or about the Foundation, or about the Second Foundation, or about Gaia. The Galaxy can choose its own path. It will last my time and why should I care a snap as to what happens afterward?”</p>
     <p>“Surely, you don’t mean it, Golan,” said Pelorat urgently.</p>
     <p>Trevize stared at him for a while, and then he drew a long breath. “No, I don’t, but, oh, how I wish I could do exactly what I have just outlined to you.”</p>
     <p>“Never mind that. What <emphasis>will</emphasis> you do?”</p>
     <p>“Keep the ship in orbit about the Earth, rest, get over the shock of all this, and think of what to do next. Except that—”</p>
     <p>“Yes?”</p>
     <p>And Trevize blurted out, “<emphasis>What</emphasis> can I do next? What is there further to look for? What is there further to find?”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>20</p>
     <p>THE NEARBY WORLD</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>94.</p>
     </title>
     <p>For four successive meals, Pelorat and Bliss had seen Trevize only <emphasis>at</emphasis> meals. During the rest of the time, he was either in the pilot-room or in his bedroom. At mealtimes, he was silent. His lips remained pressed together and he ate little.</p>
     <p>At the fourth meal, however, it seemed to Pelorat that some of the unusual gravity had lifted from Trevize’s countenance. Pelorat cleared his throat twice, as though preparing to say something and then retreating.</p>
     <p>Finally, Trevize looked up at him and said, “Well?”</p>
     <p>“Have you—have you thought it out, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“Why do you ask?”</p>
     <p>“You seem less gloomy.”</p>
     <p>“I’m not less gloomy, but I <emphasis>have</emphasis> been thinking. Heavily.”</p>
     <p>“May we know what?” asked Pelorat.</p>
     <p>Trevize glanced briefly in Bliss’s direction. She was looking firmly at her plate, maintaining a careful silence, as though certain that Pelorat would get further than she at this sensitive moment.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Are you also curious, Bliss?”</p>
     <p>She raised her eyes for a moment. “Yes. Certainly.”</p>
     <p>Fallom kicked a leg of the table moodily, and said, “Have we found Earth?”</p>
     <p>Bliss squeezed the youngster’s shoulder. Trevize paid no attention.</p>
     <p>He said, “What we must start with is a basic fact. All information concerning Earth has been removed on various worlds. That is bound to bring us to an inescapable conclusion. Something on Earth is being hidden. And yet, by observation, we see that Earth is radioactively deadly, so that anything on it is automatically hidden. No one can land on it, and from this distance, when we are quite near the outer edge of the magnetosphere and would not care to approach Earth any more closely, there is nothing for us to find.”</p>
     <p>“Can you be sure of that?” asked Bliss softly.</p>
     <p>“I have spent my time at the computer, analyzing Earth in every way it and I can. There is nothing. What’s more, I <emphasis>feel</emphasis> there is nothing. Why, then, has data concerning the Earth been wiped out? Surely, whatever must be hidden is more effectively hidden now than anyone can easily imagine, and there need be no human gilding of this particular piece of gold.”</p>
     <p>“It may be,” said Pelorat, “that there was indeed something hidden on Earth at a time when it had not yet grown so severely radioactive as to preclude visitors. People on Earth may then have feared that someone might land and find this whatever-it-is. It was <emphasis>then</emphasis> that Earth tried to remove information concerning itself. What we have now is a vestigial remnant of that insecure time.”</p>
     <p>“No, I don’t think so,” said Trevize. “The removal of information from the Imperial Library at Trantor seems to have taken place very recently.” He turned suddenly to Bliss, “Am I right?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said evenly, “I/we/Gaia gathered that much from the troubled mind of the Second Foundationer Gendibal, when he, you, and I had the meeting with the Mayor of Terminus.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “So whatever must have had to be hidden because there existed the chance of finding it must still be in hiding now, and there must be danger of finding it <emphasis>now</emphasis> despite the fact that Earth is radioactive.”</p>
     <p>“How is that possible?” asked Pelorat anxiously.</p>
     <p>“Consider,” said Trevize. “What if what was on Earth is no longer on Earth, but was removed when the radioactive danger grew greater? Yet though the secret is no longer on Earth, it may be that if we can find Earth, we would be able to reason out the place where the secret has been taken. If that were so, Earth’s whereabouts would still have to be hidden.”</p>
     <p>Fallom’s voice piped up again. “Because if we can’t find Earth, Bliss says you’ll take me back to Jemby.”</p>
     <p>Trevize turned toward Fallom and glared—and Bliss said, in a low voice, “I told you we <emphasis>might</emphasis>, Fallom. We’ll talk about it later. Right now, go to your room and read, or play the flute, or anything else you want to do. Go—go.”</p>
     <p>Fallom, frowning sulkily, left the table.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “But how can you say that, Golan? Here we are. We’ve located Earth. Can we now deduce where whatever it is might be if it isn’t on Earth?”</p>
     <p>It took a moment for Trevize to get over the moment of ill humor Fallom had induced. Then, he said, “Why not? Imagine the radioactivity of Earth’s crust growing steadily worse. The population would be decreasing steadily through death and emigration, and the secret, whatever it is, would be in increasing danger. Who would remain to protect it? Eventually, it would have to be shifted to another world, or the use of—whatever it was—would be lost to Earth. I suspect there would be reluctance to move it and it is likely that it would be done more or less at the last minute. Now, then, Janov, remember the old man on New Earth who filled your ears with his version of Earth’s history?”</p>
     <p>“Monolee?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. He. Did he not say in reference to the establishment of New Earth that what was left of Earth’s population was brought to the planet?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Do you mean, old chap, that what we’re searching for is now on New Earth? Brought there by the last of Earth’s population to leave?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Might that not be so? New Earth is scarcely better known to the Galaxy in general than Earth is, and the inhabitants are suspiciously eager to keep all Outworlders away.”</p>
     <p>“We were there,” put in Bliss. “We didn’t find anything.”</p>
     <p>“We weren’t looking for anything but the whereabouts of Earth.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, in a puzzled way, “But we’re looking for something with a high technology; something that can remove information from under the nose of the Second Foundation itself, and even from under the nose—excuse me, Bliss—of Gaia. Those people on New Earth may be able to control their patch of weather and may have some techniques of biotechnology at their disposal, but I think you’ll admit that their level of technology is, on the whole, quite low.”</p>
     <p>Bliss nodded. “I agree with Pel.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “We’re judging from very little. We never did see the men of the fishing fleet. We never saw any part of the island but the small patch we landed on. What might we have found if we had explored more thoroughly? After all, we didn’t recognize the fluorescent lights till we saw them in action, and if it appeared that the technology was low, <emphasis>appeared</emphasis>, I say—”</p>
     <p>“Yes?” said Bliss, clearly unconvinced.</p>
     <p>“That could be part of the veil intended to obscure the truth.”</p>
     <p>“Impossible,” said Bliss.</p>
     <p>“Impossible? It was you who told me, back on Gaia, that at Trantor, the larger civilization was deliberately held at a level of low technology in order to hide the small kernel of Second Foundationers. Why might not the same strategy be used on New Earth?”</p>
     <p>“Do you suggest, then, that we return to New Earth and face infection again—this time to have it activated? Sexual intercourse is undoubtedly a particularly pleasant mode of infection, but it may not be the only one.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “I am not eager to return to New Earth, but we may have to.”</p>
     <p>“<emphasis>May?</emphasis>”</p>
     <p>“May! After all, there is another possibility.”</p>
     <p>“What is that?”</p>
     <p>“New Earth circles the star the people call Alpha. But Alpha is part of a binary system. Might there not be a habitable planet circling Alpha’s companion as well?”</p>
     <p>“Too dim, I should think,” said Bliss, shaking her head. “The companion is only a quarter as bright as Alpha is.”</p>
     <p>“Dim, but not too dim. If there is a planet fairly close to the star, it might do.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Does the computer say anything about any planets for the companion?”</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled grimly. “I checked that. There are five planets of moderate size. No gas giants.”</p>
     <p>“And are any of the five planets habitable?”</p>
     <p>“The computer gives no information at all about the planets, other than their number, and the fact that they aren’t large.”</p>
     <p>“Oh,” said Pelorat deflated.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “That’s nothing to be disappointed about. None of the Spacer worlds are to be found in the computer at all. The information on Alpha itself is minimal. These things are hidden deliberately and if almost nothing is known about Alpha’s companion, that might almost be regarded as a good sign.”</p>
     <p>“Then,” said Bliss, in a business-like manner, “What you are planning to do is this—visit the companion and, if that draws a blank, return to Alpha itself.”</p>
     <p>“Yes. And this time when we reach the island of New Earth, we will be prepared. We will examine the entire island meticulously before landing and, Bliss, I expect you to use your mental abilities to shield—”</p>
     <p>And at that moment, the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> lurched slightly, as though it had undergone a ship-sized hiccup, and Trevize cried out, halfway between anger and perplexity, “Who’s at the controls?”</p>
     <p>And even as he asked, he knew very well who was.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>95.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Fallom, at the computer console, was completely absorbed. Her small, longfingered hands were stretched wide in order to fit the faintly gleaming handmarks on the desk. Fallom’s hands seemed to sink into the material of the desk, even though it was clearly felt to be hard and slippery.</p>
     <p>She had seen Trevize hold his hands so on a number of occasions, and she hadn’t seen him do more than that, though it was quite plain to her that in so doing he controlled the ship.</p>
     <p>On occasion, Fallom had seen Trevize close his eyes, and she closed hers now. After a moment or two, it was almost as though she heard a faint, far-off voice—far off, but sounding in her own head, through (she dimly realized) her transducer-lobes. They were even more important than her hands. She strained to make out the words.</p>
     <p><emphasis>Instructions</emphasis>, it said, almost pleadingly. <emphasis>What are your instructions?</emphasis></p>
     <p>Fallom didn’t say anything. She had never witnessed Trevize saying anything to the computer—but she knew what it was that she wanted with all her heart. She wanted to go back to Solaria, to the comforting endlessness of the mansion, to Jemby—Jemby— Jemby—</p>
     <p>She wanted to go there and, as she thought of the world she loved, she imagined it visible on the view-screen as she had seen other worlds she didn’t want. She opened her eyes and stared at the viewscreen willing some other world there than this hateful Earth, then staring at what she saw, imagining it to be Solaria. She hated the empty Galaxy to which she had been introduced against her will. Tears came to her eyes, and the ship trembled.</p>
     <p>She could feel that tremble, and she swayed a little in response.</p>
     <p>And then she heard loud steps in the corridor outside and, when she opened her eyes, Trevize’s face, distorted, filled her vision, blocking out the view-screen, which held all she wanted. He was shouting something, but she paid no attention. It was he who had taken her from Solaria by killing Bander, and it was he who was preventing her from returning by thinking only of Earth, and she was not going to listen to him.</p>
     <p>She was going to take the ship to Solaria, and, with the intensity of her resolve, it trembled again.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>96.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Bliss clutched wildly at Trevize’s arm. “Don’t! Don’t!”</p>
     <p>She clung strongly, holding him back, while Pelorat stood, confused and frozen, in the background.</p>
     <p>Trevize was shouting, “Take your hands off the computer! —Bliss, don’t get in my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, in a tone that seemed almost exhausted, “Don’t offer violence to the child. I’d have to hurt <emphasis>you</emphasis>—against all instructions.”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s eyes darted wildly from Fallom to Bliss. He said, “Then you get her off, Bliss, Now!”</p>
     <p>Bliss pushed him away with surprising strength (drawing it, Trevize thought afterward, from Gaia, perhaps).</p>
     <p>“Fallom,” she said, “lift your hands.”</p>
     <p>“No,” shrieked Fallom. “I want the ship to go to Solaria. I want it to go there. There.” She nodded toward the viewscreen with her head, unwilling to let even one hand release its pressure on the desk for the purpose.</p>
     <p>But Bliss reached for the child’s shoulders and, as her hands touched Fallom, the youngster began to tremble.</p>
     <p>Bliss’s voice grew soft. “Now, Fallom, tell the computer to be as it was and come with me. Come with me.” Her hands stroked the child, who collapsed in an agony of weeping.</p>
     <p>Fallom’s hands left the desk, and Bliss, catching her under the armpits, lifted her into a standing position. She turned her, held her firmly against her breast, and allowed the child to smother her wrenching sobs there.</p>
     <p>Bliss said to Trevize, who was now standing dumbly in the doorway, “Step out of the way, Trevize, and don’t touch either of us as we pass.”</p>
     <p>Trevize stepped quickly to one side.</p>
     <p>Bliss paused a moment, saying in a low voice to Trevize, “I had to get into her mind for a moment. If I’ve caused any damage, I won’t forgive you easily.”</p>
     <p>It was Trevize’s impulse to tell her he didn’t care a cubic millimeter of vacuum for Fallom’s mind; that it was the computer for which he feared. Against the concentrated glare of Gaia, however (surely it wasn’t only Bliss whose sole expression could inspire the moment of cold terror he felt), he kept silent.</p>
     <p>He remained silent for a perceptible period, and motionless as well, after Bliss and Fallom had disappeared into their room. He remained so, in fact, until Pelorat said softly, “Golan, are you all right? She didn’t hurt you, did she?”</p>
     <p>Trevize shook his head vigorously, as though to shake off the touch of paralysis that had afflicted him. “I’m all right. The real question is whether <emphasis>that’s</emphasis> all right.” He sat down at the computer console, his hands resting on the two handmarks which Fallom’s hands had so recently covered.</p>
     <p>“Well?” said Pelorat anxiously.</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “It seems to respond normally. I might conceivably find something wrong later on, but there’s nothing that seems off now.” Then, more angrily, “The computer should not combine effectively with any hands other than mine, but in that hermaphrodite’s case, it wasn’t the hands alone. It was the transducer-lobes, I’m sure—”</p>
     <p>“But what made the ship shake? It shouldn’t do that, should it?”</p>
     <p>“No. It’s a gravitic ship and we shouldn’t have these inertial effects. But that she-monster—” He paused, looking angry again.</p>
     <p>“Yes?”</p>
     <p>“I suspect she faced the computer with two self-contradictory demands, and each with such force that the computer had no choice but to attempt to do both things at once. In the attempt to do the impossible, the computer must have released the inertia-free condition of the ship momentarily. At least that’s what I think happened.”</p>
     <p>And then, somehow, his face smoothed out. “And that might be a good thing, too, for it occurs to me now that all my talk about Alpha Centauri and its companion was flapdoodle. I know now where Earth must have transferred its secret.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>97.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Pelorat stared, then ignored the final remark and went back to an earlier puzzle. “In what way did Fallom ask for two self-contradictory things?”</p>
     <p>“Well, she said she wanted the ship to go to Solaria.”</p>
     <p>“Yes. Of course, she would.”</p>
     <p>“But what did she mean by Solaria? She can’t recognize Solaria from space. She’s never really seen it from space. She was asleep when we left that world in a hurry. And despite her readings in your library, together with whatever Bliss has told her, I imagine she can’t really grasp the truth of a Galaxy of hundreds of billions of stars and millions of populated planets. Brought up, as she was, underground and alone, it is all she can do to grasp the bare concept that there are different worlds—but how many? Two? Three? Four? To her any world she sees is likely to be Solaria, and given the strength of her wishful thinking, <emphasis>is</emphasis> Solaria. And since I presume Bliss has tried to quiet her by hinting that if we don’t find Earth, we’ll take her back to Solaria, she may even have worked up the notion that Solaria is close to Earth.”</p>
     <p>“But how can you tell this, Golan? What makes you think it’s so?”</p>
     <p>“She as much as told us so, Janov, when we burst in upon her. She cried out that she wanted to go to Solaria and then added ‘there—there,’ nodding her head at the viewscreen. And what is on the view-screen? Earth’s satellite. It wasn’t there when I left the machine before dinner; Earth was. But Fallom must have pictured the satellite in her mind when she asked for Solaria, and the computer, in response, must therefore have focused on the satellite. Believe me, Janov, I know how this computer works. Who would know better?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat looked at the thick crescent of light on the viewscreen and said thoughtfully, “It was called ‘moon’ in at least one of Earth’s languages; ‘Luna,’ in another language. Probably many other names, too. —Imagine the confusion, old chap, on a world with numerous languages—the misunderstandings, the complications, the—”</p>
     <p>“Moon?” said Trevize. “Well, that’s simple enough. —Then, too, come to think of it, it may be that the child tried, instinctively, to move the ship by means of its transducer-lobes, using the ship’s own energy-source, and that may have helped produce the momentary inertial confusion. —But none of that matters, Janov. What does matter is that all this has brought this moon—yes, I like the name—to the screen and magnified it, and there it still is. I’m looking at it now, and wondering.”</p>
     <p>“Wondering what, Golan?”</p>
     <p>“At the size of it. We tend to ignore satellites, Janov. They’re such little things, when they exist at all. This one is different, though. It’s a <emphasis>world</emphasis>. It has a diameter of about thirty-five hundred kilometers.”</p>
     <p>“A world? Surely you wouldn’t call it a world. It can’t be habitable. Even a thirty-five-hundred-kilometer diameter is too small. It has no atmosphere. I can tell that just looking at it. No clouds. The circular curve against space is sharp, so is the inner curve that bounds the light and dark hemisphere.”</p>
     <p>Trevize nodded, “You’re getting to be a seasoned space traveler, Janov. You’re right. No air. No water. But that only means the moon’s not habitable on its unprotected surface. What about underground?”</p>
     <p>“Underground?” said Pelorat doubtfully.</p>
     <p>“Yes. Underground. Why not? Earth’s cities were underground, you tell me. We know that Trantor was underground. Comporellon has much of its capital city underground. The Solarian mansions were almost entirely underground. It’s a very common state of affairs.”</p>
     <p>“But, Golan, in every one of these cases, people were living on a habitable planet. The surface was habitable, too, with an atmosphere and with an ocean. Is it possible to live underground when the surface is uninhabitable?”</p>
     <p>“Come, Janov, think! Where are we living right now? The <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis> is a tiny world that has an uninhabitable surface. There’s no air or water on the outside. Yet we live inside in perfect comfort. The Galaxy is full of space stations and space settlements of infinite variety, to say nothing of spaceships, and they’re all uninhabitable except for the interior. Consider the moon a gigantic spaceship.”</p>
     <p>“With a crew inside?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. Millions of people, for all we know; and plants and animals; and an advanced technology. —Look, Janov, doesn’t it make sense? If Earth, in its last days, could send out a party of Settlers to a planet orbiting Alpha Centauri; and if, possibly with Imperial help, they could attempt to terraform it, seed its oceans, build dry land where there was none; could Earth not also send a party to its satellite and terraform its interior?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said reluctantly, “I suppose so.”</p>
     <p>“It <emphasis>would</emphasis> be done. If Earth has something to hide, why send it over a parsec away, when it could be hidden on a world less than a hundred millionth the distance to Alpha. And the moon would be a more efficient hiding place from the psychological standpoint. No one would think of satellites in connection with life. For that matter I didn’t. With the moon an inch before my nose, my thoughts went haring off to Alpha. If it hadn’t been for Fallom—” His lips tightened, and he shook his head. “I suppose I’ll have to credit her for that. Bliss surely will if I don’t.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “But see here, old man, if there’s something hiding under the surface of the moon, how do we find it? There must be millions of square kilometers of surface—”</p>
     <p>“Roughly forty million.”</p>
     <p>“And we would have to inspect all of that, looking for what? An opening? Some sort of airlock?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Put that way, it would seem rather a task, but we’re not just looking for objects, we’re looking for life; and for intelligent life at that. And we’ve got Bliss, and detecting intelligence is her talent, isn’t it?”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>98.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Bliss looked at Trevize accusingly. “I’ve finally got her to sleep. I had the hardest time. She was <emphasis>wild</emphasis>. Fortunately, I don’t think I’ve damaged her.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said coldly, “You might try removing her fixation on Jemby, you know, since I certainly have no intention of ever going back to Solaria.”</p>
     <p>“Just remove her fixation, is that it? What do you know about such things, Trevize? You’ve never sensed a mind. You haven’t the faintest idea of its complexity. If you knew anything at all about it, you wouldn’t talk about removing a fixation as though it were just a matter of scooping jam out of a jar.”</p>
     <p>“Well, weaken it at least.”</p>
     <p>“I might weaken it a bit, after a month of careful dethreading.”</p>
     <p>“What do you mean, dethreading?”</p>
     <p>“To someone who doesn’t know, it can’t be explained.”</p>
     <p>“What are you going to do with the child, then?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know yet; it will take a lot of consideration.”</p>
     <p>“In that case,” said Trevize, “let me tell you what we’re going to do with the ship.”</p>
     <p>“I know what you’re going to do. It’s back to New Earth and another try at the lovely Hiroko, if she’ll promise not to infect you this time.”</p>
     <p>Trevize kept his face expressionless. He said, “No, as a matter of fact. I’ve changed my mind. We’re going to the moon—which is the name of the satellite, according to Janov.”</p>
     <p>“The satellite? Because it’s the nearest world at hand? I hadn’t thought of that.”</p>
     <p>“Nor I. Nor would anyone have thought of it. Nowhere in the Galaxy is there a satellite worth thinking about—but this satellite, in being large, is unique. What’s more, Earth’s anonymity covers it as well. Anyone who can’t find the Earth can’t find the moon, either.”</p>
     <p>“Is it habitable?”</p>
     <p>“Not on the surface, but it is not radioactive, not at all, so it isn’t absolutely uninhabitable. It may have life—it may be teeming with life, in fact—under the surface. And, of course, you’ll be able to tell if that’s so, once we get close enough.”</p>
     <p>Bliss shrugged. “I’ll try. —But, then, what made you suddenly think of trying the satellite?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said quietly, “Something Fallom did when she was at the controls.”</p>
     <p>Bliss waited, as though expecting more, then shrugged again. “Whatever it was, I suspect you wouldn’t have gotten the inspiration if you had followed your own impulse and killed her.”</p>
     <p>“I had no intention of killing her, Bliss.”</p>
     <p>Bliss waved her hand. “All right. Let it be. Are we moving toward the moon now?”</p>
     <p>“Yes. As a matter of caution, I’m not going too fast, but if all goes well, we’ll be in its vicinity in thirty hours.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>99.</p>
     </title>
     <p>The moon was a wasteland. Trevize watched the bright daylit portion drifting past them below. It was a monotonous panorama of crater rings and mountainous areas, and of shadows black against the sunlight. There were subtle color changes in the soil and occasional sizable stretches of flatness, broken by small craters.</p>
     <p>As they approached the nightside, the shadows grew longer and finally fused together. For a while, behind them, peaks glittered in the sun, like fat stars, far outshining their brethren in the sky. Then they disappeared and below was only the fainter light of the Earth in the sky, a large bluish-white sphere, a little more than half full. The ship finally outran the Earth, too, which sank beneath the horizon so that under them was unrelieved blackness, and above only the faint powdering of stars, which, to Trevize, who had been brought up on the starless world of Terminus, was always miracle enough.</p>
     <p>Then, new bright stars appeared ahead, first just one or two, then others, expanding and thickening and finally coalescing. And at once they passed the terminator into the daylit side. The sun rose with infernal splendor, while the viewscreen shifted away from it at once and polarized the glare of the ground beneath.</p>
     <p>Trevize could see quite well that it was useless to hope to find any way into the inhabited interior (if that existed) by mere eye inspection of this perfectly enormous world.</p>
     <p>He turned to look at Bliss, who sat beside him. She did not look at the viewscreen; indeed, she kept her eyes closed. She seemed to have collapsed into the chair rather than to be sitting in it.</p>
     <p>Trevize, wondering if she were asleep, said softly, “Do you detect anything else?”</p>
     <p>Bliss shook her head very slightly. “No,” she whispered. “There was just that faint whiff. You’d better take me back there. Do you know where that region was?”</p>
     <p>“The computer knows.”</p>
     <p>It was like zeroing in on a target, shifting this way and that and then finding it. The area in question was still deep in the nightside and, except that the Earth shone fairly low in the sky and gave the surface a ghostly ashen glow between the shadows, there was nothing to make out, even though the light in the pilot-room had been blacked out for better viewing.</p>
     <p>Pelorat had approached and was standing anxiously in the doorway. “Have we found anything?” he asked, in a husky whisper.</p>
     <p>Trevize held up his hand for silence. He was watching Bliss. He knew it would be days before sunlight would return to this spot on the moon, but he also knew that for what Bliss was trying to sense, light of any kind was irrelevant.</p>
     <p>She said, “It’s there.”</p>
     <p>“Are you sure?”</p>
     <p>“Yes.”</p>
     <p>“And it’s the only spot?”</p>
     <p>“It’s the only spot I’ve detected. Have you been over every part of the moon’s surface?”</p>
     <p>“We’ve been over a respectable fraction of it.”</p>
     <p>“Well, then, in that respectable fraction, this is all I have detected. It’s stronger now, as though <emphasis>it</emphasis> has detected <emphasis>us</emphasis> and it doesn’t seem dangerous. The feeling I get is a welcoming one.”</p>
     <p>“Are you sure?”</p>
     <p>“It’s the feeling I get.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Could it be faking the feeling?”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, with a trace of hauteur, “I would detect a fake, I assure you.”</p>
     <p>Trevize muttered something about overconfidence, then said, “What you detect is intelligence, I hope.”</p>
     <p>“I detect strong intelligence. Except—” And an odd note entered her voice.</p>
     <p>“Except what?”</p>
     <p>“Ssh. Don’t disturb me. Let me concentrate.” The last word was a mere motion of her lips.</p>
     <p>Then she said, in faint elated surprise, “It’s not human.”</p>
     <p>“Not human,” said Trevize, in much stronger surprise. “Are we dealing with robots again? As on Solaria?”</p>
     <p>“No.” Bliss was smiling. “It’s not quite robotic, either.”</p>
     <p>“It has to be one or the other.”</p>
     <p>“Neither.” She actually chuckled. “It’s not human, and yet it’s not like any robot I’ve detected before.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “I would like to see that.” He nodded his head vigorously, his eyes wide with pleasure. “It would be exciting. Something new.”</p>
     <p>“Something new,” muttered Trevize with a sudden lift of his own spirits—and a flash of unexpected insight seemed to illuminate the interior of his skull.</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>100.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Down they sank to the moon’s surface, in what was almost jubilation. Even Fallom had joined them now and, with the abandonment of a youngster, was hugging herself with unbearable joy as though she were truly returning to Solaria.</p>
     <p>As for Trevize, he felt within himself a touch of sanity telling him that it was strange that Earth—or whatever of Earth was on the moon—which had taken such measures to keep off all others, should now be taking measures to draw them in. Could the purpose be the same in either way? Was it a case of “If you can’t make them avoid you, draw them in and destroy them?” Either way, would not Earth’s secret remain untouched?</p>
     <p>But that thought faded and drowned in the flood of joy that deepened steadily as they came closer to the moon’s surface. Yet over and beyond that, he managed to cling to the moment of illumination that had reached him just before they had begun their gliding dive to the surface of the Earth’s satellite.</p>
     <p>He seemed to have no doubt as to where the ship was going. They were just above the tops of the rolling hills now, and Trevize, at the computer, felt no need to do anything. It was as though he and the computer, both, were being guided, and he felt only an enormous euphoria at having the weight of responsibility taken away from him.</p>
     <p>They were sliding parallel to the ground, toward a cliff that raised its menacing height as a barrier against them; a barrier glistening faintly in Earth-shine and in the light-beam of the <emphasis>Far Star</emphasis>. The approach of certain collision seemed to mean nothing to Trevize, and it was with no surprise whatever that he became aware that the section of cliff directly ahead had fallen away and that a corridor, gleaming in artificial light, had opened before them.</p>
     <p>The ship slowed to a crawl, apparently of its own accord, and fitted neatly into the opening—entering—sliding along— The opening closed behind it, and another then opened before it. Through the second opening went the ship, into a gigantic hall that seemed the hollowed interior of a mountain.</p>
     <p>The ship halted and all aboard rushed to the airlock eagerly. It occurred to none of them, not even to Trevize, to check whether there might be a breathable atmosphere outside—or any atmosphere at all.</p>
     <p>There <emphasis>was</emphasis> air, however. It was breathable and it was comfortable. They looked about themselves with the pleased air of people who had somehow come home and it was only after a while that they became aware of a man who was waiting politely for them to approach.</p>
     <p>He was tall, and his expression was grave. His hair was bronze in color, and cut short. His cheekbones were broad, his eyes were bright, and his clothing was rather after the fashion one saw in ancient history books. Although he seemed sturdy and vigorous there was, just the same, an air of weariness about him—not in anything that one could see, but rather in something appealing to no recognizable sense.</p>
     <p>It was Fallom who reacted first. With a loud, whistling scream, she ran toward the man, waving her arms and crying, “Jemby! Jemby!” in a breathless fashion.</p>
     <p>She never slackened her pace, and when she was close enough, the man stooped and lifted her high in the air. She threw her arms about his neck, sobbing, and still gasping, “Jemby!”</p>
     <p>The others approached more soberly and Trevize said, slowly and distinctly (could this man understand Galactic?), “We ask pardon, sir. This child has lost her protector and is searching for it desperately. How it came to fasten on you is a puzzle to us, since it is seeking a robot; a mechanical—”</p>
     <p>The man spoke for the first time. His voice was utilitarian rather than musical, and there was a faint air of archaism clinging to it, but he spoke Galactic with perfect ease.</p>
     <p>“I greet you all in friendship,” he said—and he seemed unmistakably friendly, even though his face continued to remain fixed in its expression of gravity. “As for this child,” he went on, “she shows perhaps a greater perceptivity than you think, for I am a robot. My name is Daneel Olivaw.”</p>
    </section>
   </section>
   <section>
    <title>
     <p>21</p>
     <p>THE SEARCH ENDS</p>
    </title>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>101.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Trevize found himself in a complete state of disbelief. He had recovered from the odd euphoria he had felt just before and after the landing on the moon—a euphoria, he now suspected, that had been imposed on him by this self-styled robot who now stood before him.</p>
     <p>Trevize was still staring, and in his now perfectly sane and untouched mind, he remained lost in astonishment. He had talked in astonishment, made conversation in astonishment, scarcely understood what he said or heard as he searched for something in the appearance of this apparent man, in his behavior, in his manner of speaking, that bespoke the robot.</p>
     <p>No wonder, thought Trevize, that Bliss had detected something that was neither human nor robot, but, that was, in Pelorat’s words, “something new.” Just as well, of course, for it had turned Trevize’s thoughts into another and more enlightening channel—but even that was now crowded into the back of his mind.</p>
     <p>Bliss and Fallom had wandered off to explore the grounds. It had been Bliss’s suggestion, but it seemed to Trevize that it came after a lightning-quick glance had been exchanged between herself and Daneel. When Fallom refused and asked to stay with the being she persisted in calling Jemby, a grave word from Daneel and a lift of the finger was enough to cause her to trot off at once. Trevize and Pelorat remained.</p>
     <p>“They are not Foundationers, sirs,” said the robot, as though that explained it all. “One is Gaia and one is a Spacer.”</p>
     <p>Trevize remained silent while they were led to simply designed chairs under a tree. They seated themselves, at a gesture from the robot, and when he sat down, too, in a perfectly human movement, Trevize said, “Are you truly a robot?”</p>
     <p>“Truly, sir,” said Daneel.</p>
     <p>Pelorat’s face seemed to shine with joy. He said, “There are references to a robot named Daneel in the old legends. Are you named in his honor?”</p>
     <p>“I am that robot,” said Daneel. “It is not a legend.”</p>
     <p>“Oh no,” said Pelorat. “If you are that robot, you would have to be thousands of years old.”</p>
     <p>“Twenty thousand,” said Daneel quietly.</p>
     <p>Pelorat seemed abashed at that, and glanced at Trevize, who said, with a touch of anger, “If you are a robot, I order you to speak truthfully.”</p>
     <p>“I do not need to be told to speak truthfully, sir. I <emphasis>must</emphasis> do so. You are faced then, sir, with three alternatives. Either I am a man who is lying to you; or I am a robot who has been programmed to believe that it is twenty thousand years old but, in fact, is not; or I am a robot who <emphasis>is</emphasis> twenty thousand years old. You must decide which alternative to accept.”</p>
     <p>“The matter may decide itself with continued conversation,” said Trevize dryly. “For that matter, it is hard to believe that this is the interior of the moon. Neither the light”—he looked up as he said that, for the light was precisely that of soft, diffuse sunlight, though no sun was in the sky, and, for that matter, no sky was clearly visible—“nor the gravity seems credible. This world should have a surface gravity of less than 0.2g.”</p>
     <p>“The normal surface gravity would be 0.16g actually, sir. It is built up, however, by the same forces that give you, on your ship, the sensation of normal gravity, even when you are in free fall, or under acceleration. Other energy needs, including the light, are also met gravitically, though we use solar energy where that is convenient. Our material needs are all supplied by the moon’s soil, except for the light elements—hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen—which the moon does not possess. We obtain those by capturing an occasional comet. One such capture a century is more than enough to supply our needs.”</p>
     <p>“I take it Earth is useless as a source of supply.”</p>
     <p>“Unfortunately, that is so, sir. Our positronic brains are as sensitive to radioactivity as human proteins are.”</p>
     <p>“You use the plural, and this mansion before us seems, large, beautiful, and elaborate—at least as seen from the outside. There are then other beings on the moon. Humans? Robots?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, sir. We have a complete ecology on the moon and a vast and complex hollow within which that ecology exists. The intelligent beings are all robots, however, more or less like myself. You will see none of them, however. As for this mansion, it is used by myself only and it is an establishment that is modeled exactly on one I used to live in twenty thousand years ago.”</p>
     <p>“Which you remember in detail, do you?”</p>
     <p>“Perfectly, sir. I was manufactured, and existed for a time—how brief a time it seems to me, now—on the Spacer world of Aurora.”</p>
     <p>“The one with the—” Trevize paused.</p>
     <p>“Yes, sir. The one with the dogs.”</p>
     <p>“You know about that?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
     <p>“How do you come to be here, then, if you lived at first on Aurora?”</p>
     <p>“Sir, it was to prevent the creation of a radioactive Earth that I came here in the very beginnings of the settlement of the Galaxy. There was another robot with me, named Giskard, who could sense and adjust minds.”</p>
     <p>“As Bliss can?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, sir. We failed, in a way, and Giskard ceased to operate. Before the cessation, however, he made it possible for me to have his talent and left it to me to care for the Galaxy; for Earth, particularly.”</p>
     <p>“Why Earth, particularly?”</p>
     <p>“In part because of a man named Elijah Baley, an Earthman.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat put in excitedly, “He is the culture-hero I mentioned some time ago, Golan.”</p>
     <p>“A culture-hero, sir?”</p>
     <p>“What Dr. Pelorat means,” said Trevize, “is that he is a person to whom much was attributed, and who may have been an amalgamation of many men in actual history, or who may be an invented person altogether.”</p>
     <p>Daneel considered for a moment, and then said, quite calmly, “That is not so, sirs. Elijah Baley was a real man and he was one man. I do not know what your legends say of him, but in actual history, the Galaxy might never have been settled without him. In his honor, I did my best to salvage what I could of Earth after it began to turn radioactive. My fellow-robots were distributed over the Galaxy in an effort to influence a person here—a person there. At one time I maneuvered a beginning to the recycling of Earth’s soil. At another much later time, I maneuvered a beginning to the terraforming of a world circling the nearby star, now called Alpha. In neither case was I truly successful. I could never adjust human minds entirely as I wished, for there was always the chance that I might do harm to the various humans who were adjusted. I was bound, you see—and am bound to this day—by the Laws of Robotics.”</p>
     <p>“Yes?”</p>
     <p>It did not necessarily take a being with Daneel’s mental power to detect uncertainty in that monosyllable.</p>
     <p>“The First Law,” he said, “is this, sir: ‘A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.’ The Second Law: ‘A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.’ The Third Law: ‘A robot must protect its own existence, as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.’ —Naturally, I give you these laws in the approximation of language. In actual fact they represent complicated mathematical configurations of our positronic brain-paths.”</p>
     <p>“Do you find it difficult to deal with those Laws?”</p>
     <p>“I must, sir. The First Law is an absolute that almost forbids the use of my mental talents altogether. When dealing with the Galaxy it is not likely that any course of action will prevent harm altogether. Always, some people, perhaps many people, will suffer, so that a robot must choose minimum harm. Yet, the complexity of possibilities is such that it takes time to make that choice and one is, even then, never certain.”</p>
     <p>“I see that,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“All through Galactic history,” said Daneel, “I tried to ameliorate the worst aspects of the strife and disaster that perpetually made itself felt in the Galaxy. I may have succeeded, on occasion, and to some extent, but if you know your Galactic history, you will know that I did not succeed often, or by much.”</p>
     <p>“That much I know,” said Trevize, with a wry smile.</p>
     <p>“Just before Giskard’s end, he conceived of a robotic law that superseded even the first. We called it the ‘Zeroth Law’ out of an inability to think of any other name that made sense. The Zeroth Law is: ‘A robot may not injure humanity or, through inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.’ This automatically means that the First Law must be modified to be: ‘A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm, except where that would conflict with the Zeroth Law.’ And similar modifications must be made in the Second and Third Laws.”</p>
     <p>Trevize frowned. “How do you decide what is injurious, or not injurious, to humanity as a whole?”</p>
     <p>“Precisely, sir,” said Daneel. “In theory, the Zeroth Law was the answer to our problems. In practice, we could never decide. A human being is a concrete object. Injury to a person can be estimated and judged. Humanity is an abstraction. How do we deal with it?”</p>
     <p>“I don’t know,” said Trevize.</p>
     <p>“Wait,” said Pelorat. “You could convert humanity into a single organism. Gaia.”</p>
     <p>“That is what I tried to do, sir. I engineered the founding of Gaia. If humanity could be made a single organism, it would become a concrete object, and it could be dealt with. It was, however, not as easy to create a superorganism as I had hoped. In the first place, it could not be done unless human beings valued the superorganism more than their individuality, and I had to find a mind-cast that would allow that. It was a long time before I thought of the Laws of Robotics.”</p>
     <p>“Ah, then, the Gaians <emphasis>are</emphasis> robots. I had suspected that from the start.”</p>
     <p>“In that case, you suspected incorrectly, sir. They are human beings, but they have brains firmly inculcated with the equivalent of the Laws of Robotics. They have to value life, <emphasis>really</emphasis> value it. —And even after that was done, there remained a serious flaw. A superorganism consisting of human beings only is unstable. It cannot be set up. Other animals must be added—then plants—then the inorganic world. The smallest superorganism that is truly stable is an entire world, and a world large enough and complex enough to have a stable ecology. It took a long time to understand this, and it is only in this last century that Gaia was <emphasis>fully</emphasis> established and that it became ready to move on toward Galaxia—and, even so, that will take a long time, too. Perhaps not as long as the road already traveled, however, since we now know the rules.”</p>
     <p>“But you needed me to make the decision for you. Is that it, Daneel?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, sir. The Laws of Robotics would not allow me, nor Gaia, to make the decision and chance harm to humanity. And meanwhile, five centuries ago, when it seemed that I would never work out methods for getting round all the difficulties that stood in the way of establishing Gaia, I turned to the second-best and helped bring about the development of the science of psychohistory.”</p>
     <p>“I might have guessed that,” mumbled Trevize. “You know, Daneel, I’m beginning to believe you <emphasis>are</emphasis> twenty thousand years old.”</p>
     <p>“Thank you, sir.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Wait a while. I think I see something. Are you part of Gaia yourself, Daneel? Would that be how you knew about the dogs on Aurora? Through Bliss?”</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “In a way, sir, you are correct. I am associated with Gaia, though I am not part of it.”</p>
     <p>Trevize’s eyebrows went up. “That sounds like Comporellon, the world we visited immediately after leaving Gaia. It insists it is not part of the Foundation Confederation, but is only associated with it.”</p>
     <p>Slowly, Daneel nodded. “I suppose that analogy is apt, sir. I can, as an associate of Gaia, make myself aware of what Gaia is aware of—in the person of the woman, Bliss, for instance. Gaia, however, cannot make itself aware of what I am aware of, so that I maintain my freedom of action. That freedom of action is necessary until Galaxia is well established.”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked steadily at the robot for a moment, then said, “And did you use your awareness through Bliss in order to interfere with events on our journey to mold them to your better liking?”</p>
     <p>Daneel sighed in a curiously human fashion. “I could not do much, sir. The Laws of Robotics always hold me back. —And yet, I lightened the load on Bliss’s mind, taking a small amount of added responsibility on myself, so that she might deal with the wolves of Aurora and the Spacer on Solaria with greater dispatch and with less harm to herself. In addition, I influenced the woman on Comporellon and the one on New Earth, through Bliss, in order to have them look with favor on you, so that you might continue on your journey.”</p>
     <p>Trevize smiled, half-sadly. “I ought to have known it wasn’t I.”</p>
     <p>Daneel accepted the statement without its rueful self-deprecation. “On the contrary, sir,” he said, “it was you in considerable part. Each of the two women looked with favor upon you from the start. I merely strengthened the impulse already present—about all one can safely do under the strictures of the Laws of Robotics. Because of those strictures—and for other reasons as well—it was only with great difficulty that I brought you here, and only indirectly. I was in great danger at several points of losing you.”</p>
     <p>“And now I <emphasis>am</emphasis> here,” said Trevize. “What is it you want of me? To confirm my decision in favor of Galaxia?”</p>
     <p>Daneel’s face, always expressionless, somehow managed to seem despairing. “No, sir. The mere decision is no longer enough. I brought you here, as best I could in my present condition, for something far more desperate. I am dying.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>102.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Perhaps it was because of the matter-of-fact way in which Daneel said it; or perhaps because a lifetime of twenty thousand years made death seem no tragedy to one doomed to live less than half a percent of that period; but, in any case, Trevize felt no stir of sympathy.</p>
     <p>“Die? Can a machine die?”</p>
     <p>“I can cease to exist, sir. Call it by whatever word you wish. I am old. Not one sentient being in the Galaxy that was alive when I was first given consciousness is still alive today; nothing organic; nothing robotic. Even I myself lack continuity.”</p>
     <p>“In what way?”</p>
     <p>“There is no physical part of my body, sir, that has escaped replacement, not only once but many times. Even my positronic brain has been replaced on five different occasions. Each time the contents of my earlier brain were etched into the newer one to the last positron. Each time, the new brain had a greater capacity and complexity than the old, so that there was room for more memories, and for faster decision and action. But—”</p>
     <p>“But?”</p>
     <p>“The more advanced and complex the brain, the more unstable it is, and the more quickly it deteriorates. My present brain is a hundred thousand times as sensitive as my first, and has ten million times the capacity; but whereas my first brain endured for over ten thousand years, the present one is but six hundred years old and is unmistakably senescent. With every memory of twenty thousand years perfectly recorded and with a perfect recall mechanism in place, the brain is filled. There is a rapidly declining ability to reach decisions; an even more rapidly declining ability to test and influence minds at hyperspatial distances. Nor can I design a sixth brain. Further miniaturization will run against the blank wall of the uncertainty principle, and further complexity will but assure decay almost at once.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat seemed desperately troubled. “But surely, Daneel, Gaia can carry on without you. Now that Trevize has judged and selected Galaxia—”</p>
     <p>“The process simply took too long, sir,” said Daneel, as always betraying no emotion. “I had to wait for Gaia to be fully established, despite the unanticipated difficulties that arose. By the time a human being—Mr. Trevize—was located who was capable of making the key decision, it was too late. Do not think, however, that I took no measure to lengthen my life span. Little by little I have reduced my activities, in order to conserve what I could for emergencies. When I could no longer rely on active measures to preserve the isolation of the Earth/moon system, I adopted passive ones. Over a period of years, the humaniform robots that have been working with me have been, one by one, called home. Their last tasks have been to remove all references to Earth in the planetary archives. And without myself and my fellow-robots in full play, Gaia will lack the essential tools to carry through the development of Galaxia in less than an inordinate period of time.”</p>
     <p>“And you knew all this,” said Trevize, “when I made my decision?”</p>
     <p>“A substantial time before, sir,” said Daneel. “Gaia, of course, did not know.”</p>
     <p>“But then,” said Trevize angrily, “what was the use of carrying through the charade? What good has it been? Ever since my decision, I have scoured the Galaxy, searching for Earth and what I thought of as its ‘secret’—not knowing the secret was <emphasis>you</emphasis>—in order that I might confirm the decision. Well, I <emphasis>have</emphasis> confirmed it. I know now that Galaxia is absolutely essential—and it appears to be all for nothing. Why could you not have left the Galaxy to itself—and me to myself?”</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “Because, sir, I have been searching for a way out, and I have been carrying on in the hope that I might find one. I think I have. Instead of replacing my brain with yet another positronic one, which is impractical, I might merge it with a human brain instead; a human brain that is not affected by the Three Laws, and will not only add capacity to my brain, but add a whole new level of abilities as well. That is why I have brought you here.”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked appalled. “You mean you plan to merge a human brain into yours? Have the human brain lose its individuality so that you can achieve a two-brain Gaia?”</p>
     <p>“Yes, sir. It would not make me immortal, but it might enable me to live long enough to establish Galaxia.”</p>
     <p>“And you brought <emphasis>me</emphasis> here for that? You want my independence of the Three Laws and my sense of judgment made part of you at the price of my individuality? —No!”</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “Yet you said a moment ago that Galaxia is essential for the welfare of the human—”</p>
     <p>“Even if it is, it would take a long time to establish, and I would remain an individual in my lifetime. On the other hand, if it were established rapidly, there would be a Galactic loss of individuality and my own loss would be part of an unimaginably greater whole. I would, however, certainly never consent to lose my individuality while the rest of the Galaxy retains theirs.”</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “It is, then, as I thought. Your brain would not merge well and, in any case, it would serve a better purpose if you retained an independent judgmental ability.”</p>
     <p>“When did you change your mind? You said that it was for merging that you brought me here.”</p>
     <p>“Yes, and only by using the fullest extent of my greatly diminished powers. Still, when I said, ‘That is why I have brought you here,’ please remember that in Galactic Standard, the word ‘you’ represents the plural as well as the singular. I was referring to all of you.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat stiffened in his seat. “Indeed? Tell me then, Daneel, would a human brain that was merged with your brain share in all your memories—all twenty thousand years of it, back to legendary times?”</p>
     <p>“Certainly, sir.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat drew a long breath. “That would fulfill a lifetime search, and it is something I would gladly give up my individuality for. Please let me have the privilege of sharing your brain.”</p>
     <p>Trevize asked softly, “And Bliss? What about her?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat hesitated for no more than a moment. “Bliss will understand,” he said. “She will, in any case, be better off without me—after a while.”</p>
     <p>Daneel shook his head. “Your offer, Dr. Pelorat, is a generous one, but I cannot accept it. Your brain is an old one and it cannot survive for more than two or three decades at best, even in a merger with my own. I need something else. —See!” He pointed and said, “I’ve called her back.”</p>
     <p>Bliss was returning, walking happily, with a bounce to her steps.</p>
     <p>Pelorat rose convulsively to his feet. “Bliss! Oh no!”</p>
     <p>“Do not be alarmed, Dr. Pelorat,” said Daneel. “I cannot use Bliss. That would merge me with Gaia, and I must remain independent of Gaia, as I have already explained.”</p>
     <p>“But in that case,” said Pelorat, “who—”</p>
     <p>And Trevize, looking at the slim figure running after Bliss, said, “The robot has wanted Fallom all along, Janov.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>103.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Bliss returned, smiling, clearly in a state of great pleasure.</p>
     <p>“We couldn’t pass beyond the bounds of the estate,” she said, “but it all reminded me very much of Solaria. Fallom, of course, is convinced it <emphasis>is</emphasis> Solaria. I asked her if she didn’t think that Daneel had an appearance different from that of Jemby—after all, Jemby was metallic—and Fallom said, ‘No, not really.’ I don’t know what she meant by ‘not really.’?”</p>
     <p>She looked across to the middle distance where Fallom was now playing her flute for a grave Daneel, whose head nodded in time. The sound reached them, thin, clear, and lovely.</p>
     <p>“Did you know she took the flute with her when we left the ship?” asked Bliss. “I suspect we won’t be able to get her away from Daneel for quite a while.”</p>
     <p>The remark was met with a heavy silence, and Bliss looked at the two men in quick alarm. “What’s the matter?”</p>
     <p>Trevize gestured gently in Pelorat’s direction. It was up to him, the gesture seemed to say.</p>
     <p>Pelorat cleared his throat and said, “Actually, Bliss, I think that Fallom will be staying with Daneel permanently.”</p>
     <p>“Indeed?” Bliss, frowning, made as though to walk in Daneel’s direction, but Pelorat caught her arm. “Bliss dear, you can’t. He’s more powerful than Gaia even now, and Fallom must stay with him if Galaxia is to come into existence. Let me explain—and, Golan, please correct me if I get anything wrong.”</p>
     <p>Bliss listened to the account, her expression sinking into something close to despair.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, in an attempt at cool reason, “You see how it is, Bliss. The child is a Spacer and Daneel was designed and put together by Spacers. The child was brought up by a robot and knew nothing else on an estate as empty as this one. The child has transductive powers which Daneel will need, and she will live for three or four centuries, which may be what is required for the construction of Galaxia.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, her cheeks flushed and her eyes moist, “I suppose that the robot maneuvered our trip to Earth in such a way as to make us pass through Solaria in order to pick up a child for his use.”</p>
     <p>Trevize shrugged. “He may simply have taken advantage of the opportunity. I don’t think his powers are strong enough at the moment to make complete puppets of us at hyperspatial distances.”</p>
     <p>“No. It was purposeful. He made certain that I would feel strongly attracted to the child so that I would take her with me, rather than leave her to be killed; that I would protect her even against you when you showed nothing but resentment and annoyance at her being with us.”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “That might just as easily have been your Gaian ethics, which Daneel could have strengthened a bit, I suppose. Come, Bliss, there’s nothing to be gained. Suppose you <emphasis>could</emphasis> take Fallom away. Where could you then take her that would make her as happy as she is here? Would you take her back to Solaria where she would be killed quite pitilessly; to some crowded world where she would sicken and die; to Gaia, where she would wear her heart out longing for Jemby; on an endless voyage through the Galaxy, where she would think that every world we came across was her Solaria? And would you find a substitute for Daneel’s use so that Galaxia could be constructed?”</p>
     <p>Bliss was sadly silent.</p>
     <p>Pelorat held out his hand to her, a bit timidly. “Bliss,” he said, “I volunteered to have my brain fused with Daneel’s. He wouldn’t take it because he said I was too old. I wish he had, if that would have saved Fallom for you.”</p>
     <p>Bliss took his hand and kissed it. “Thank you, Pel, but the price would be too high, even for Fallom.” She took a deep breath, and tried to smile. “Perhaps, when we get back to Gaia, room will be found in the global organism for a child for me—and I will place Fallom in the syllables of its name.”</p>
     <p>And now Daneel, as though aware that the matter was settled, was walking toward them, with Fallom skipping along at his side.</p>
     <p>The youngster broke into a run and reached them first. She said to Bliss, “Thank you, Bliss, for taking me home to Jemby again and for taking care of me while we were on the ship. I shall always remember you.” Then she flung herself at Bliss and the two held each other tightly.</p>
     <p>“I hope you will always be happy,” said Bliss. “I will remember you, too, Fallom dear,” and released her with reluctance.</p>
     <p>Fallom turned to Pelorat, and said, “Thank you, too, Pel, for letting me read your book-films.” Then, without an additional word, and after a trace of hesitation, the thin, girlish hand was extended to Trevize. He took it for a moment, then let it go.</p>
     <p>“Good luck, Fallom,” he muttered.</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “I thank you all, sirs and madam, for what you have done, each in your own way. You are free to go now, for your search is ended. As for my own work, it will be ended, too, soon enough, and successfully now.”</p>
     <p>But Bliss said, “Wait, we are not quite through. We don’t know yet whether Trevize is still of the mind that the proper future for humanity is Galaxia, as opposed to a vast conglomeration of Isolates.”</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “He has already made that clear a while ago, madam. He has decided in favor of Galaxia.”</p>
     <p>Bliss’s lips tightened. “I’d rather hear that from him. —Which is it to be, Trevize?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said calmly, “Which do you want it to be, Bliss? If I decide against Galaxia, you may get Fallom back.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “I am Gaia. I must know your decision, and its reason, for the sake of the truth and nothing else.”</p>
     <p>Daneel said, “Tell her, sir. Your mind, as Gaia is aware, is untouched.”</p>
     <p>And Trevize said, “The decision is for Galaxia. There is no further doubt in my mind on that point.”</p>
    </section>
    <section>
     <title>
      <p>104.</p>
     </title>
     <p>Bliss remained motionless for the time one might take to count to fifty at a moderate rate, as though she were allowing the information to reach all parts of Gaia, and then she said, “Why?”</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Listen to me. I knew from the start that there were two possible futures for humanity— Galaxia, or else the Second Empire of Seldon’s Plan. And it seemed to me that those two possible futures were mutually exclusive. We couldn’t have Galaxia unless, for some reason, Seldon’s Plan had some fundamental flaw in it.</p>
     <p>“Unfortunately, I knew nothing about Seldon’s Plan except for the two axioms on which it is based: one, that there be involved a large enough number of human beings to allow humanity to be treated statistically as a group of individuals interacting randomly; and second, that humanity not know the results of psychohistorical conclusions before the results are achieved.</p>
     <p>“Since I had already decided in favor of Galaxia, I felt I must be subliminally aware of flaws in Seldon’s Plan, and those flaws could only be in the axioms, which were all I knew of the plan. Yet I could see nothing wrong with the axioms. I strove, then, to find Earth, feeling that Earth could not be so thoroughly hidden for no purpose. I had to find out what that purpose was.</p>
     <p>“I had no real reason to expect to find a solution once I found Earth, but I was desperate and could think of nothing else to do. —And perhaps Daneel’s desire for a Solarian child helped drive me.</p>
     <p>“In any case, we finally reached Earth, and then the moon, and Bliss detected Daneel’s mind, which he, of course, was deliberately reaching out to her. She described that mind as neither quite human nor quite robotic. In hindsight, that proved to make sense, for Daneel’s brain is far advanced beyond any robot that ever existed, and would not be sensed as simply robotic. Neither would it be sensed as human, however. Pelorat referred to it as ‘something new’ and that served as a trigger for ‘something new’ of my own; a new thought.</p>
     <p>“Just as, long ago, Daneel and his colleague worked out a fourth law of robotics that was more fundamental than the other three, so I could suddenly see a third basic axiom of psychohistory that was more fundamental than the other two; a third axiom so fundamental that no one ever bothered to mention it.</p>
     <p>“Here it is. The two known axioms deal with human beings, and they are based on the unspoken axiom that human beings are the <emphasis>only</emphasis> intelligent species in the Galaxy, and therefore the only organisms whose actions are significant in the development of society and history. That is the unstated axiom: that there is only one species of intelligence in the Galaxy and that it is <emphasis>Homo sapiens</emphasis>. If there were ‘something new,’ if there were other species of intelligence widely different in nature, then their behavior would not be described accurately by the mathematics of psychohistory and Seldon’s Plan would have no meaning. Do you see?”</p>
     <p>Trevize was almost shaking with the earnest desire to make himself understood. “Do you see?” he repeated.</p>
     <p>Pelorat said, “Yes, I see, but as devil’s advocate, old chap—”</p>
     <p>“Yes? Go on.”</p>
     <p>“Human beings <emphasis>are</emphasis> the only intelligences in the Galaxy.”</p>
     <p>“Robots?” said Bliss. “Gaia?”</p>
     <p>Pelorat thought awhile, then said hesitantly, “Robots have played no significant role in human history since the disappearance of the Spacers. Gaia has played no significant role until very recently. Robots are the creation of human beings, and Gaia is the creation of robots—and both robots and Gaia, insofar as they must be bound by the Three Laws, have no choice but to yield to human will. Despite the twenty thousand years Daneel has labored, and the long development of Gaia, a single word from Golan Trevize, a human being, would put an end to both those labors and that development. It follows, then, that humanity is the only significant species of intelligence in the Galaxy, and psychohistory remains valid.”</p>
     <p>“The only form of intelligence in the Galaxy,” repeated Trevize slowly. “I agree. Yet we speak so much and so often of the Galaxy that it is all but impossible for us to see that this is not enough. The Galaxy is not the Universe. There are other galaxies.”</p>
     <p>Pelorat and Bliss stirred uneasily. Daneel listened with benign gravity, his hand slowly stroking Fallom’s hair.</p>
     <p>Trevize said, “Listen to me again. Just outside the Galaxy are the Magellanic Clouds, where no human ship has ever penetrated. Beyond that are other small galaxies, and not very far away is the giant Andromeda Galaxy, larger than our own. Beyond that are galaxies by the billions.</p>
     <p>“Our own Galaxy has developed only one species of an intelligence great enough to develop a technological society, but what do we know of the other galaxies? Ours may be atypical. In some of the others—perhaps even in all—there may be many competing intelligent species, struggling with each other, and each incomprehensible to us. Perhaps it is their mutual struggle that preoccupies them, but what if, in some galaxy, one species gains domination over the rest and then has time to consider the possibility of penetrating other galaxies.</p>
     <p>“Hyperspatially, the Galaxy is a point—and so is all the Universe. We have not visited any other galaxy, and, as far as we know, no intelligent species from another galaxy has ever visited us—but that state of affairs may end someday. And if the invaders come, they are bound to find ways of turning some human beings against other human beings. We have so long had only ourselves to fight that we are used to such internecine quarrels. An invader that finds us divided against ourselves will dominate us all, or destroy us all. The only true defense is to produce Galaxia, which cannot be turned against itself and which can meet invaders with maximum power.”</p>
     <p>Bliss said, “The picture you paint is a frightening one. Will we have time to form Galaxia?”</p>
     <p>Trevize looked up, as though to penetrate the thick layer of moonrock that separated him from the surface and from space; as though to force himself to see those far distant galaxies, moving slowly through unimaginable vistas of space.</p>
     <p>He said, “In all human history, no other intelligence has impinged on us, to our knowledge. This need only continue a few more centuries, perhaps little more than one ten thousandth of the time civilization has already existed, and we will be safe. After all,” and here Trevize felt a sudden twinge of trouble, which he forced himself to disregard, “it is not as though we had the enemy already here and among us.”</p>
     <p>And he did not look down to meet the brooding eyes of Fallom—hermaphroditic, transductive, different—as they rested, unfathomably, on him.</p>
    </section>
   </section>
  </section>
  <section>
   <title>
    <p>ABOUT THE AUTHOR</p>
   </title>
   <p>Isaac Asimov began his Foundation series at the age of twenty-one, not realizing that it would one day be considered a cornerstone of science fiction. During his legendary career, Asimov penned over 470 books on subjects ranging from science to Shakespeare to history, though he was most loved for his award-winning science fiction sagas, which include the Robot, Empire, and Foundation series. Named a Grand Master of Science Fiction by the Science Fiction Writers of America, Asimov entertained and educated readers of all ages for close to five decades. He died, at the age of seventy-two, in April 1992.</p>
  </section>