Foundation's Edge

  Quintesetz’s wife, a friendly woman—plump and quite dark, who had said little during the meal—looked up in astonishment, rose, and left the room without a word.

  “My wife,” said Quintesetz uneasily, “is quite a conservative, I’m afraid, and is a bit uneasy at the mention of—the world. Please excuse her. But why do you ask about it?”

  “Because it is important for J.P.’s work, I’m afraid.”

  “But why do you ask it of me? We were discussing Earth, robots, the founding of Sayshell. What has all this to do with—what you ask?”

  “Perhaps nothing, and yet there are so many oddnesses about the matter. Why is your wife uneasy at the mention of Gaia? Why are you uneasy? Some talk of it easily enough. We have been told only today that Gaia is Earth itself and that it has disappeared into hyperspace because of the evil done by human beings.”

  A look of pain crossed Quintesetz’s face. “Who told you that gibberish?”

  “Someone I met here at the university.”

  “That’s just superstition.”

  “Then it’s not part of the central dogma of your legends concerning the Flight?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just a fable that arose among the ordinary, uneducated people.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Trevize coldly.

  Quintesetz sat back in his chair and stared at the remnant of the meal before him. “Come into the living room,” he said. “My wife will not allow this room to be cleared and set to rights while we are here and discussing—this.”

  “Are you sure it is just a fable?” repeated Trevize, once they had seated themselves in another room, before a window that bellied upward and inward to give a clear view of Sayshell’s remarkable night sky. The lights within the room glimmered down to avoid competition and Quintesetz’s dark countenance melted into the shadow.

  Quintesetz said, “Aren’t you sure? Do you think that any world can dissolve into hyperspace? You must understand that the average person has only the vaguest notion of what hyperspace is.”

  “The truth is,” said Trevize, “that I myself have only the vaguest notion of what hyperspace is and I’ve been through it hundreds of times.”

  “Let me speak realities, then. I assure you that Earth—wherever it is—is not located within the borders of the Sayshell Union and that the world you mentioned is not Earth.”

  “But even if you don’t know where Earth is, S.Q., you ought to know where the world I mentioned is. It is certainly within the borders of the Sayshell Union. We know that much, eh, Pelorat?”

  Pelorat, who had been listening stolidly, started at being suddenly addressed and said, “If it comes to that, Golan, I know where it is.”

  Trevize turned to look at him. “Since when, Janov?”

  “Since earlier this evening, my dear Golan. You showed us the Five Sisters, S.Q., on our way from your office to your house. You pointed out a dim star at the center of the pentagon. I’m positive that’s Gaia.”

  Quintesetz hesitated—his face, hidden in the dimness, was beyond any chance of interpretation. Finally he said, “Well, that’s what our astronomers tell us—privately. It is a planet that circles that star.”

  Trevize gazed contemplatively at Pelorat, but the expression on the professor’s face was unreadable. Trevize turned to Quintesetz, “Then tell us about that star. Do you have its co-ordinates?”

  “I? No.” He was almost violent in his denial. “I have no stellar co-ordinates here. You can get it from our astronomy department, though I imagine not without trouble. No travel to that star is permitted.”

  “Why not? It’s within your territory, isn’t it?”

  “Spaciographically, yes. Politically, no.”

  Trevize waited for something more to be said. When that didn’t come, he rose. “Professor Quintesetz,” he said formally, “I am not a policeman, soldier, diplomat, or thug. I am not here to force information out of you. Instead, I shall, against my will, go to our ambassador. Surely, you must understand that it is not I, for my own personal interest, that request this information. This is Foundation business and I don’t want to make an interstellar incident out of this. I don’t think the Sayshell Union would want to, either.”

  Quintesetz said uncertainly, “What is this Foundation business?”

  “That’s not something I can discuss with you. If Gaia is not something you can discuss with me, then we will transfer it all to the government level and, under the circumstances, it may be the worse for Sayshell. Sayshell has kept its independence of the Federation and I have no objection to that. I have no reason to wish Sayshell ill and I do not wish to approach our ambassador. In fact, I will harm my own career in doing so, for I am under strict instruction to get this information without making a government matter of it. Please tell me, then, if there is some firm reason why you cannot discuss Gaia. Will you be arrested or otherwise punished, if you speak? Will you tell me plainly that I have no choice but to go to the ambassadorial height?”

  “No, no,” said Quintesetz, who sounded utterly confused. “I know nothing about government matters. We simply don’t speak of that world.”

  “Superstition?”

  “Well, yes! Superstition! —Skies of Sayshell, in what way am I better than that foolish person who told you that Gaia was in hyperspace—or than my wife who won’t even stay in a room where Gaia is mentioned and who may even have left the house for fear it will be smashed by—”

  “Lightning?”

  “By some stroke from afar. And I, even I, hesitate to pronounce the name. Gaia! Gaia! The syllables do not hurt! I am unharmed! Yet I hesitate. —But please believe me when I say that I honestly don’t know the co-ordinates for Gaia’s star. I can try to help you get it, if that will help, but let me tell you that we don’t discuss the world here in the Union. We keep hands and minds off it. I can tell you what little is known—really known, rather than supposed—and I doubt that you can learn anything more anywhere in these worlds of the Union.

  “We know Gaia is an ancient world and there are some who think it is the oldest world in this sector of the Galaxy, but we are not certain. Patriotism tells us Sayshell Planet is the oldest; fear tells us Gaia Planet is. The only way of combining the two is to suppose that Gaia is Earth, since it is known that Sayshell was settled by Earthpeople.

  “Most historians think—among themselves—that Gaia Planet was founded independently. They think it is not a colony of any world of our Union and that the Union was not colonized by Gaia. There is no consensus on comparative age, whether Gaia was settled before or after Sayshell was.”

  Trevize said, “So far, what you know is nothing, since every possible alternative is believed by someone or other.”

  Quintesetz nodded ruefully. “It would seem so. It was comparatively late in our history that we became conscious of the existence of Gaia. We had been preoccupied at first in forming the Union, then in fighting off the Galactic Empire, then in trying to find our proper role as an Imperial province and in limiting the power of the Viceroys.

  “It wasn’t till the days of Imperial weakness were far advanced that one of the later Viceroys, who was under very weak central control by then, came to realize that Gaia existed and seemed to maintain its independence from the Sayshellian province and even from the Empire itself. It simply kept to itself in isolation and secrecy, so that virtually nothing was known about it, anymore than is now known. The Viceroy decided to take it over. We have no details what happened, but his expedition was broken and few ships returned. In those days, of course, the ships were neither very good nor very well led.

  “Sayshell itself rejoiced at the defeat of the Viceroy, who was considered an Imperial oppressor, and the debacle led almost directly to the re-establishment of our independence. The Sayshell Union snapped its ties with the Empire and we still celebrate the anniversary of that event as Union Day. Almost out of gratitude we left Gaia alone for nearly a century, but the time came when we were strong enough to begin to think of a
little imperialistic expansion of our own. Why not take over Gaia? Why not at least establish a Customs Union? We sent out a fleet and it was broken, too.

  “Thereafter, we confined ourselves to an occasional attempt at trade—attempts that were invariably unsuccessful. Gaia remained in firm isolation and never—to anyone’s knowledge—made the slightest attempt to trade or communicate with any other world. It certainly never made the slightest hostile move against anyone in any direction. And then—”

  Quintesetz turned up the light by touching a control in the arm of his chair. In the light, Quintesetz’s face took on a clearly sardonic expression. He went on, “Since you are citizens of the Foundation, you perhaps remember the Mule.”

  Trevize flushed. In five centuries of existence, the Foundation had been conquered only once. The conquest had been only temporary and had not seriously interfered with its climb toward Second Empire, but surely no one who resented the Foundation and wished to puncture its self-satisfaction would fail to mention the Mule, its one conqueror. And it was likely (thought Trevize) that Quintesetz had raised the level of light in order that he might see Foundational self-satisfaction punctured.

  He said, “Yes, we of the Foundation remember the Mule.”

  “The Mule,” said Quintesetz, “ruled an Empire for a while, one that was as large as the Federation now controlled by the Foundation. He did not, however, rule us. He left us in peace. He passed through Sayshell at one time, however. We signed a declaration of neutrality and a statement of friendship. He asked nothing more. We were the only ones of whom he asked nothing more in the days before illness called a halt to his expansion and forced him to wait for death. He was not an unreasonable man, you know. He did not use unreasonable force, he was not bloody, and he ruled humanely.”

  “It was just that he was a conqueror,” said Trevize sarcastically.

  “Like the Foundation,” said Quintesetz.

  Trevize, with no ready answer, said irritably, “Do you have more to say about Gaia?”

  “Just a statement that the Mule made. According to the account of the historic meeting between the Mule and President Kallo of the Union, the Mule is described as having put his signature to the document with a flourish and to have said, “You are neutral even toward Gaia by this document, which is fortunate for you. Even I will not approach Gaia.”

  Trevize shook his head. “Why should he? Sayshell was eager to pledge neutrality and Gaia had no record of ever troubling anyone. The Mule was planning the conquest of the entire Galaxy at the time, so why delay for trifles? Time enough to turn on Sayshell and Gaia, when that was done.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps,” said Quintesetz, “but according to one witness at the time, a person we tend to believe, the Mule put down his pen as he said, ‘Even I will not approach Gaia.’ His voice then dropped and, in a whisper not meant to be heard, he added ‘again.’ ”

  “Not meant to be heard, you say. Then how was it he was heard?”

  “Because his pen rolled off the table when he put it down and a Sayshellian automatically approached and bent to pick it up. His ear was close to the Mule’s mouth when the word ‘again’ was spoken and he heard it. He said nothing until after the Mule’s death.”

  “How can you prove it was not an invention?”

  “The man’s life is not the kind that makes it probable he would invent something of this kind. His report is accepted.”

  “And if it is?”

  “The Mule was never in—or anywhere near—the Sayshell Union except on this one occasion, at least after he appeared on the Galactic scene. If he had ever been on Gaia, it had to be before he appeared on the Galactic scene.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, where was the Mule born?”

  “I don’t think anyone knows,” said Trevize.

  “In the Sayshell Union, there is a strong feeling he was born on Gaia.”

  “Because of that one word?”

  “Only partly. The Mule could not be defeated because he had strange mental powers. Gaia cannot be defeated either.”

  “Gaia has not been defeated as yet. That does not necessarily prove it cannot be.”

  “Even the Mule would not approach. Search the records of his Overlordship. See if any region other than the Sayshell Union was so gingerly treated. And do you know that no one who has ever gone to Gaia for the purpose of peaceful trade has ever returned? Why do you suppose we know so little about it?”

  Trevize said, “Your attitude seems much like superstition.”

  “Call it what you will. Since the time of the Mule, we have wiped Gaia out of our thinking. We don’t want it to think of us. We only feel safe if we pretend it isn’t there. It may be that the government has itself secretly initiated and encouraged the legend that Gaia has disappeared into hyperspace in the hope that people will forget that there is a real star of that name.”

  “You think that Gaia is a world of Mules, then?”

  “It may be. I advise you, for your good, not to go there. If you do, you will never return. If the Foundation interferes with Gaia, it will show less intelligence than the Mule did. You might tell your ambassador that.”

  Trevize said, “Get me the co-ordinates and I will be off your world at once. I will reach Gaia and I will return.”

  Quintesetz said, “I will get you the co-ordinates. The astronomy department works nights, of course, and I will get it for you now, if I can. —But let me suggest once more that you make no attempt to reach Gaia.”

  Trevize said, “I intend to make that attempt.”

  And Quintesetz said heavily, “Then you intend suicide.”

  14

  FORWARD!

  1.

  JANOV PELORAT LOOKED OUT AT THE DIM LANDSCAPE in the graying dawn with an odd mixture of regret and uncertainty.

  “We aren’t staying long enough, Golan. It seems a pleasant and interesting world. I would like to learn more about it.”

  Trevize looked up from the computer with a wry smile. “You don’t think I would like to? We had three proper meals on the planet—totally different and each excellent. I’d like more. And the only women we saw, we saw briefly—and some of them looked quite enticing, for—well, for what I’ve got in mind.”

  Pelorat wrinkled his nose slightly. “Oh, my dear chap. Those cowbells they call shoes, and all wrapped around in clashing colors, and whatever do they do to their eyelashes. Did you notice their eyelashes?”

  “You might just as well believe I noticed everything, Janov. What you object to is superficial. They can easily be persuaded to wash their faces and, at the proper time, off come the shoes and the colors.”

  Pelorat said, “I’ll take your word for that, Golan. However, I was thinking more of investigating the matter of Earth further. What we’ve been told about Earth, thus far, is so unsatisfactory, so contradictory—radiation according to one person, robots according to another.”

  “Death in either case.”

  “True,” said Pelorat reluctantly, “but it may be that one is true and not the other, or that both are true to some extent, or that neither is sure. Surely, Golan, when you hear tales that simply shroud matters in thickening mists of doubt, surely you must feel the itch to explore, to find out.”

  “I do,” said Golan. “By every dwarf star in the Galaxy, I do. The problem at hand, however, is Gaia. Once that is straightened out, we can go to Earth, or come back here to Sayshell for a more extended stay. But first, Gaia.”

  Pelorat nodded. “The problem at hand! If we accept what Quintesetz told us, death is waiting for us on Gaia. Ought we to be going?”

  Trevize said, “I ask myself that. Are you afraid?”

  Pelorat hesitated as though he were probing his own feelings. Then he said in a quite simple and matter-of-fact manner, “Yes. Terribly!”

  Trevize sat back in his chair and swiveled to face the other. He said, just as quietly and matter-of-factly, “Janov, there’s no reason for you to chance this. Say the word and I’ll let y
ou off on Sayshell with your personal belongings and with half our credits. I’ll pick you up when I return and it will be on to Sirius Sector, if you wish, and Earth, if that’s where it is. If I don’t return, the Foundation people on Sayshell will see to it that you get back to Terminus. No hard feelings if you stay behind, old friend.”

  Pelorat’s eyes blinked rapidly and his lips pressed together for a few moments. Then he said, rather huskily, “Old friend? We’ve known each other what? A week or so? Isn’t it strange that I’m going to refuse to leave the ship? I am afraid, but I want to remain with you.”

  Trevize moved his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. “But why? I honestly don’t ask it of you.”

  “I’m not sure why, but I ask it of myself. It’s—it’s—Golan, I have faith in you. It seems to me you always know what you’re doing. I wanted to go to Trantor, where probably—as I now see—nothing would have happened. You insisted on Gaia and Gaia must somehow be a raw nerve in the Galaxy. Things seem to happen in connection with it. And if that’s not enough, Golan, I watched you force Quintesetz to give you the information about Gaia. That was such a skillful bluff. I was lost in admiration.”

  “You have faith in me, then.”

  Pelorat said, “Yes, I do.”

  Trevize put his hand on the other’s upper arm and seemed, for a moment, to be searching for words. Finally he said, “Janov, will you forgive me in advance if my judgment is wrong, and if you in one way or another meet with—whatever unpleasant may be awaiting us?”

  Pelorat said, “Oh, my dear fellow, why do you ask? I make the decision freely for my reasons, not yours. And, please—let us leave quickly. I don’t trust my cowardice not to seize me by the throat and shame me for the rest of my life.”

  “As you say, Janov,” said Trevize. “We’ll leave at the earliest moment the computer will permit. This time, we’ll be moving gravitically—straight up—as soon as we can be assured the atmosphere above is clear of other ships. And as the surrounding atmosphere grows less and less dense, we’ll put on more and more speed. Well within the hour, we’ll be in open space.”