Foundation and Earth (47 page)

“Might they not attack us?”

“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.”

“And once daylight comes?”

“We’ll land, of course.”

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.

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.

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.

“It could be an automated vehicle, if they could manage that without electronics,” said Trevize.

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.”

“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.”

“At least,” said Pelorat, “a gravitic ship won’t scorch private property in descending.”

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.

Pelorat said, “I’m afraid we’ll leave marks, though.”

“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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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—”

“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.”

“Who? I?” said Pelorat, turning faintly pink. “Not at all, Bliss, but I
am
the linguist of our little party.”

Trevize shrugged. “Come one, come all. Still, though she may look harmless, I intend to take my weapons with me.”

“I doubt,” said Bliss, “that you will be much tempted to use them on that young woman.”

Trevize grinned. “She is attractive, isn’t she?”

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.

The black-haired young woman continued to watch with interest. She did not back away an inch.

Trevize muttered, “Well, let’s try.”

He held his arms away from his weapons and said, “I greet you.”

The young woman considered that for a moment, and said, “I greet thee and I greet thy companions.”

Pelorat said joyfully, “How wonderful! She speaks Classical Galactic and with a correct accent.”

“I understand her, too,” said Trevize, oscillating one hand to indicate his understanding wasn’t perfect. “I hope she understands me.”

He said, smiling, and assuming a friendly expression, “We come from across space. We come from another world.”

“That is well,” said the young woman, in her clear soprano. “Comes thy ship from the Empire?”

“It comes from a far star, and the ship is named
Far Star
.”

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.”

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.”

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.

He said, “My name is Golan Trevize; my friend is Janov Pelorat; the woman is Bliss; and the child is Fallom.”

“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.”

“And your father?” interposed Pelorat suddenly.

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.”

“And where are the others?” asked Trevize. “You seem to be the only one to be here to greet us.”

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.”

“Are there many others on this island?”

“There are more than a score and five thousand,” said Hiroko with obvious pride.

“And are there other islands in the ocean?”

“Other islands, good sir?” She seemed puzzled.

Trevize took that as answer enough. This was the one spot on the entire planet that was inhabited by human beings.

He said, “What do you call your world?”

“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.”

“A
what
world?” said Trevize, turning blankly to Pelorat.

“A beautiful world, she means,” said Pelorat.

“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.”

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.”

“Do you people control the weather, then, Hiroko?”

“Did we not, Sir Golan Trevize, we would be soggy with rain.”

“But how do you do that?”

“Not being a trained engineer, sir, I cannot tell thee.”

“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).

Hiroko said, “We call our heavenly island in the midst of the vast sea of waters New Earth.”

At which Trevize and Pelorat stared at each other with surprise and delight.

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.

Clearly, this was a low-technology society, and yet they controlled the weather.

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.

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.

Trevize said in a low voice to Bliss, “Are you manipulating them? They seem—serene.”

“I’m not in the least manipulating them,” said Bliss. “I never touch minds unless I must. It’s Fallom I’m concerned with.”

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
Far Star
had been something to grow accustomed to. Fallom was breathing rapidly and shallowly, and her eyes were half-closed. Almost, she seemed in shock.

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.

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.

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.

Pelorat seemed rather awestruck, as his eyes went from one Alphan to another. He said, “Golan, they differ so among themselves.”

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.

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.

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?”

Hiroko looked puzzled, and Pelorat repeated what Bliss had said in the more ornate Galactic of the mid-Imperial period.

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?”

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.”

Hiroko rose to her feet. “It shall be as thou hast said.”

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.

“Here,” he said, “look it over, but return it.” Then he said to Hiroko. “See that I get it back, Miss Hiroko.”

“Of a surety, it will be backhanded, respected sir.” She nodded her head gravely.

Trevize smiled and walked on. He was more comfortable without the jacket in the light, mild breeze.

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.

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?”

And, as though unable to wait for an answer, she placed her hand lightly on Bliss’s chest.

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.”

She whispered in an aside to Pelorat, “How do you like the way I’m getting the hang of Classical Galactic?”

“You did that very well, Bliss,” said Pelorat.

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.

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.