by Isaac Asimov
Trevize paused, then bent his head in thought, and finally said, “I don’t know. —Yes, I do. What I suppose it is, is that however small the chance of catastrophe might be, if enough people take enough chances, the catastrophe must happen eventually. No matter how sure I am that nothing will go wrong, there’s a small nagging voice inside me that says, ‘Maybe it will happen this time.’ And it makes me feel guilty. —I guess that’s it. Janov, if something goes wrong, forgive me!”
“But, Golan, my dear chap, if something goes wrong, we will both be dead instantly. I will not be able to forgive, nor you to receive forgiveness.”
“I understand that, so forgive me now, will you?”
Pelorat smiled. “I don’t know why, but this cheers me up. There’s something pleasantly humorous about it. Of course, Golan, I’ll forgive you. There are plenty of myths about some form of afterlife in world literature and if there should happen to be such a place—about the same chance as landing on a mini-black hole, I suppose, or less—and we both turn up in the same one, then I will bear witness that you did your honest best and that my death should not be laid at your door.”
“Thank you! Now I’m relieved. I’m willing to take my chance, but I did not enjoy the thought of you taking my chance as well.”
Pelorat wrung the other’s hand. “You know, Golan, I’ve only known you less than a week and I suppose I shouldn’t make hasty judgments in these matters, but I think you’re an excellent chap. —And now let’s do it and get it over with.”
“Absolutely! All I have to do is touch that little contact. The computer has its instructions and it’s just waiting for me to say: ‘Start!’ —Would you like to—”
“Never! It’s all yours! It’s your computer.”
“Very well. And it’s my responsibility. I’m still trying to duck it you see. Keep your eye on the screen!”
With a remarkably steady hand and with his smile looking utterly genuine, Trevize made contact.
There was a momentary pause and then the starfield changed—and again—and again. The stars spread steadily thicker and brighter over the viewscreen.
Pelorat was counting under his breath. At “15” there was a halt, as though some piece of apparatus had jammed.
Pelorat whispered, clearly afraid that any noise might jar the mechanism fatally. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
Trevize shrugged. “I imagine it’s recalculating. Some object in space is adding a perceptible bump to the general shape of the overall gravitational field—some object not taken into account—some uncharted dwarf star or rogue planet—”
“Dangerous?”
“Since we’re still alive, it’s almost certainly not dangerous. A planet could be a hundred million kilometers away and still introduce a large enough gravitational modification to require recalculation. A dwarf star could be ten billion kilometers away and—”
The screen shifted again and Trevize fell silent. It shifted again—and again—Finally, when Pelorat said, “28,” there was no further motion.
Trevize consulted the computer. “We’re here,” he said.
“I counted the first Jump as ‘1’ and in this series I started with ‘2.’ That’s twenty-eight Jumps altogether. You said twenty-nine.”
“The recalculation at Jump 15 probably saved us one Jump. I can check with the computer if you wish, but there’s really no need. We’re in the vicinity of Sayshell Planet. The computer says so and I don’t doubt it. If I were to orient the screen properly, we’d see a nice, bright sun, but there’s no point in placing a needless strain on its screening capacity. Sayshell Planet is the fourth one out and it’s about 3.2 million kilometers away from our present position, which is about as close as we want to be at a Jump conclusion. We can get there in three days—two, if we hurry.”
Trevize drew a deep breath and tried to let the tension drain.
“Do you realize what this means, Janov?” he said. “Every ship I’ve ever been in—or heard of—would have made those Jumps with at least a day in between for painstaking calculation and re-checking, even with a computer. The trip would have taken nearly a month. Or perhaps two or three weeks, if they were willing to be reckless about it. We did it in half an hour. When every ship is equipped with a computer like this one—”
Pelorat said, “I wonder why the Mayor let us have a ship this advanced. It must be incredibly expensive.”
“It’s experimental,” said Trevize dryly. “Maybe the good woman was perfectly willing to have us try it out and see what deficiencies might develop.”
“Are you serious?”
“Don’t get nervous. After all, there’s nothing to worry about. We haven’t found any deficiencies. I wouldn’t put it past her, though. Such a thing would put no great strain on her sense of humanity. Besides, she hasn’t trusted us with offensive weapons and that cuts the expense considerably.”
Pelorat said thoughtfully, “It’s the computer I’m thinking about. It seems to be adjusted so well for you—and it can’t be adjusted that well for everyone. It just barely works with me.”
“So much the better for us, that it works so well with one of us.”
“Yes, but is that merely chance?”
“What else, Janov?”
“Surely the Mayor knows you pretty well.”
“I think she does, the old battlecraft.”
“Might she not have had a computer designed particularly for you?”
“Why?”
“I just wonder if we’re not going where the computer wants to take us.”
Trevize stared. “You mean that while I’m connected to the computer, it is the computer—and not me—who’s in real charge?”
“I just wonder.”
“That is ridiculous. Paranoid. Come on, Janov.”
Trevize turned back to the computer to focus Sayshell Planet on the screen and to plot a normalspace course to it.
Ridiculous!
But why had Pelorat put the notion into his head?
10
TABLE
1.
Two days had passed and Gendibal found himself not so much heavy-hearted as enraged. There was no reason why there could not have been an immediate hearing. Had he been unprepared—had he needed time—they would have forced an immediate hearing on him, he was sure.
But since there was nothing more facing the Second Foundation than the greatest crisis since the Mule, they wasted time—and to no purpose but to irritate him.
They did irritate him and, by Seldon, that would make his counterstroke the heavier. He was determined on that.
He looked about him. The anteroom was empty. It had been like that for two days now. He was a marked man, a Speaker whom all knew would—by means of an action unprecedented in the five-century history of the Second Foundation—soon lose his position. He would be demoted to the ranks, demoted to the position of a Second Foundationer, plain and simple.
It was one thing, however—and a very honored thing—to be a Second Foundationer of the ranks, particularly if one held a respectable title, as Gendibal might even after the impeachment. It would be quite another thing to have once been a Speaker and to have been demoted.
It won’t happen though, thought Gendibal savagely, even though for two days he had been avoided. Only Sura Novi treated him as before, but she was too naïve to understand the situation. To her, Gendibal was still “Master.”
It irritated Gendibal that he found a certain comfort in this. He felt ashamed when he began to notice that his spirits rose when he noticed her gazing at him worshipfully. Was he becoming grateful for gifts that small?
A clerk emerged from the Chamber to tell him that the Table was ready for him and Gendibal stalked in. The clerk was one Gendibal knew well; he was one who knew—to the tiniest fraction—the precise gradation of civility that each Speaker deserved. At the moment, that accorded Gendibal was appallingly low. Even the clerk thought him as good as convicted.
They were all sitting about th
e Table gravely, wearing the black robes of judgment. First Speaker Shandess looked a bit uncomfortable, but he did not allow his face to crease into the smallest touch of friendliness. Delarmi—one of the three Speakers who were women—did not even look at him.
The First Speaker said, “Speaker Stor Gendibal, you have been impeached for behaving in a manner unbecoming a Speaker. You have, before us all, accused the Table—vaguely and without evidence—of treason and attempted murder. You have implied that all Second Foundationers—including the Speakers and the First Speaker—require a thorough mental analysis to ascertain who among them are no longer to be trusted. Such behaviour breaks the bonds of community, without which the Second Foundation cannot control an intricate and potentially hostile Galaxy and without which they cannot build, with surety, a viable Second Empire.
“Since we have all witnessed those offenses, we will forego the presentation of a formal case for the prosecution. We will therefore move directly to the next stage. Speaker Stor Gendibal, do you have a defense?”
Now Delarmi—still not looking at him—allowed herself a small catlike smile.
Gendibal said, “If truth be considered a defense, I have one. There are grounds for suspecting a breach of security. That breach may involve the mental control of one or more Second Foundationers—not excluding members here present—and this has created a deadly crisis for the Second Foundation. If, indeed, you hasten this trial because you cannot waste time, you may all perhaps dimly recognize the seriousness of the crisis, but in that case, why have you wasted two days after I had formally requested an immediate trial? I submit that it is this deadly crisis that has forced me to say what I have said. I would have behaved in a manner unbecoming a Speaker—had I not done so.”
“He but repeats the offense, First Speaker,” said Delarmi softly.
Gendibal’s seat was further removed from the Table than that of the others—a clear demotion already. He pushed it farther back, as though he cared nothing for that, and rose.
He said, “Will you convict me now, out of hand, in defiance of law—or may I present my defense in detail?”
The First Speaker said, “This is not a lawless assemblage, Speaker. Without much in the way of precedent to guide us, we will lean in your direction, recognizing that if our too-human abilities should cause us to deviate from absolute justice, it is better to allow the guilty to go free than to convict the innocent. Therefore, although the case before us is so grave that we may not lightly allow the guilty to go free, we will permit you to present your case in such manner as you wish and for as long as you require, until it is decided by unanimous vote, including my own” (and he raised his voice at that phrase) “that enough has been heard.”
Gendibal said, “Let me begin, then, by saying that Golan Trevize—the First Foundationer who has been driven from Terminus and whom the First Speaker and I believe to be the knife-edge of the gathering crisis—has moved off in an unexpected direction.”
“Point of information,” said Delarmi softly. “How does the speaker” (the intonation clearly indicated that the word was not capitalized) “know this?”
“I was informed of this by the First Speaker,” said Gendibal, “but I confirm it of my own knowledge. Under the circumstances, however, considering my suspicions concerning the level of the security of the Chamber, I must be allowed to keep my sources of information secret.”
The First Speaker said, “I will suspend judgment on that. Let us proceed without that item of information but if, in the judgment of the Table, the information must be obtained, Speaker Gendibal will have to yield it.”
Delarmi said, “If the speaker does not yield the information now, it is only fair to say that I assume he has an agent serving him—an agent who is privately employed by him and who is not responsible to the Table generally. We cannot be sure that such an agent is obeying the rules of behavior governing Second Foundation personnel.”
The First Speaker said with some displeasure, “I see all the implications, Speaker Delarmi. There is no need to spell them out for me.”
“I merely mention it for the record, First Speaker, since this aggravates the offense and it is not an item mentioned in the bill of impeachment, which, I would like to say, has not been read in full and to which I move this item be added.”
“The clerk is directed to add the item,” said the First Speaker, “and the precise wording will be adjusted at the appropriate time. —Speaker Gendibal” (he, at least, capitalized) “your defense is indeed a step backward. Continue.”
Gendibal said, “Not only has this Trevize moved in an unexpected direction, but at an unprecedented speed. My information, which the First Speaker does not yet have, is that he has traveled nearly ten thousand parsecs in well under an hour.”
“In a single Jump?” said one of the Speakers incredulously.
“In over two dozen Jumps, one after the other, with virtually no time intervening,” said Gendibal, “something that is even more difficult to imagine than a single Jump. Even if he is now located, it will take time to follow him and, if he detects us and really means to flee us, we will not be able to overtake him. —And you spend your time in games of impeachment and allow two days to pass so that you might savor them the more.”
The First Speaker managed to mask his anguish. “Please tell us, Speaker Gendibal, what you think the significance of this might be.”
“It is an indication, First Speaker, of the technological advances that are being made by the First Foundation, who are far more powerful now than they were in the time of Preem Palver. We could not stand up against them if they found us and were free to act.”
Speaker Delarmi rose to her feet. She said, “First Speaker, our time is being wasted with irrelevancies. We are not children to be frightened with tales by Grandmother Spacewarp. It does not matter how impressive the machinery of the First Foundation is when, in any crisis, their minds will be in our control.”
“What do you have to say to that, Speaker Gendibal?” asked the First Speaker.
“Merely that we will come to the matter of minds in due course. For the moment, I merely wish to stress the superior—and increasing—technological might of the First Foundation.”
The First Speaker said, “Pass on to the next point, Speaker Gendibal. Your first point, I must tell you, does not impress me as very pertinent to the matter contained in the bill of impeachment.”
There was a clear gesture of agreement from the Table generally.
Gendibal said, “I pass on. Trevize has a companion in his present journey” (he paused momentarily to consider pronunciation) “one Janov Pelorat, a rather ineffectual scholar who has devoted his life to tracking down myths and legends concerning Earth.”
“You know all this about him? Your hidden source, I presume?” said Delarmi, who had settled into her role of prosecutor with a clear feeling of comfort.
“Yes, I know all this about him,” said Gendibal stolidly. “A few months ago, the Mayor of Terminus, an energetic and capable woman, grew interested in this scholar for no clear reason, and so I grew interested, too, as a matter of course. Nor have I kept this to myself. All the information I have gained has been made available to the First Speaker.”
“I bear witness to that,” said the First Speaker in a low voice.
An elderly Speaker said, “What is this Earth? Is it the world of origin we keep coming across in fables? The one they made a fuss about in old Imperial times?”
Gendibal nodded. “In the tales of Grandmother Spacewarp, as Speaker Delarmi would say. —I suspect it was Pelorat’s dream to come to Trantor to consult the Galactic Library, in order to find information concerning Earth that he could not obtain in the interstellar library service available on Terminus.
“When he left Terminus with Trevize, he must have been under the impression that that dream was to be fulfilled. Certainly we were expecting the two and counted on having the opportunity to examine them—to our own profit. As it turns out—and
as you all know by now—they are not coming. They have turned off to some destination that is not yet clear and for some reason that is not yet known.”
Delarmi’s round face looked positively cherubic as she said, “And why is this disturbing? We are no worse off for their absence, surely. Indeed, since they dismiss us so easily, we can deduce that the First Foundation does not know the true nature of Trantor and we can applaud the handiwork of Preem Palver.”
Gendibal said, “If we thought no further, we might indeed come to such a comforting solution. Could it be, though, that the turnoff was not the result of any failure to see the importance of Trantor? Could it be that the turnoff resulted from anxiety lest Trantor, by examining these two men, see the importance of Earth?”
There was a stir about the Table.
“Anyone,” said Delarmi coldly, “can invent formidable-sounding propositions and couch them in balanced sentences. But do they make sense when you do invent them? Why should anyone care what we of the Second Foundation think of Earth? Whether it is the true planet of origin, or whether it is a myth, or whether there is no one place of origin to begin with, is surely something that should interest only historians, anthropologists, and folk-tale collectors, such as this Pelorat of yours. Why us?”
“Why indeed?” said Gendibal. “How is it, then, that there are no references to Earth in the Library?”
For the first time, something in the atmosphere that was other than hostility made itself felt about the Table.
Delarmi said, “Aren’t there?”
Gendibal said quite calmly, “When word first reached me that Trevize and Pelorat might be coming here in search of information concerning Earth, I, as a matter of course, had our Library computer make a listing of documents containing such information. I was mildly interested when it turned up nothing. Not minor quantities. Not very little. —Nothing!
“But then you insisted I wait for two days before this hearing could take place, and at the same time, my curiosity was further piqued by the news that the First Foundationers were not coming here after all. I had to amuse myself somehow. While the rest of you therefore were, as the saying goes, sipping wine while the house was falling, I went through some history books in my own possession. I came across passages that specifically mentioned some of the investigations on the ‘Origin Question’ in late-Imperial times. Particular documents—both printed and filmed—were referred to and quoted from. I returned to the Library and made a personal check for those documents. I assure you there was nothing.”
