Foundation's Edge

From a galactographer?”

“No use. I cannot match a name to the communication.”

“Because, perhaps, there was none.”

“Oh no. That scarcely seems possible.”

“Why? Would you have rejected an anonymous communication?”

“I suppose not.”

“Did you ever receive any?”

“Once in a long while. In recent years, I had become well known in certain academic circles as a collector of particular types of myths and legends and some of my correspondents were occasionally kind enough to forward material they had picked up from nonacademic sources. Sometimes these might not be attributed to anyone in particular.”

Trevize said, “Yes, but did you ever receive anonymous information directly, and not by way of some academic correspondent?”

“That sometimes happened—but very rarely.”

“And can you be certain that this was not so in the case of Gaia?”

“Such anonymous communications took place so rarely that I should think I would remember if it had happened in this case. Still, I can’t say certainly that the information was not of anonymous origin. Mind, though, that’s not to say that I did receive the information from an anonymous source.”

“I realize that. But it remains a possibility, doesn’t it?”

Pelorat said, very reluctantly, “I suppose it does. But what’s all this about?”

“I’m not finished,” said Trevize peremptorily. “Where did you get the information from—anonymous or not? What world?”

Pelorat shrugged. “Come now, I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Could it possibly have been from Sayshell?”

“I told you. I don’t know.”

“I’m suggesting you did get it from Sayshell.”

“You can suggest all you wish, but that does not necessarily make it so.”

“No? When Quintesetz pointed out the dim star at the center of the Five Sisters, you knew at once it was Gaia. You said so later on to Quintesetz, identifying it before he did. Do you remember?”

“Yes, of course.”

“How was that possible? How did you recognize at once that the dim star was Gaia?”

“Because in the material I had on Gaia, it was rarely referred to by that name. Euphemisms were common, many different ones. One of the euphemisms, several times repeated, was ‘the little Brother of the Five Sisters.’ Another was ‘the Pentagon’s Center’ and sometimes it was called ‘o Pentagon.’ When Quintesetz pointed out the Five Sisters and the central star, the allusions came irresistibly to mind.”

“You never mentioned those allusions to me earlier.”

“I didn’t know what they meant and I didn’t think it would have been important to discuss the matter with you, who were a—” Pelorat hesitated.

“A nonspecialist?”

“Yes.”

“You realize, I hope, that the pentagon of the Five Sisters is an entirely relative form.”

“What do you mean?”

Trevize laughed affectionately. “You surface worm. Do you think the sky has an objective shape of its own? That the stars are nailed in place? The pentagon has the shape it has from the surface of the worlds of the planetary system to which Sayshell Planet belongs—and from there only. From a planet circling any other star, the appearance of the Five Sisters is different. They are seen from a different angle, for one thing. For another, the five stars of the pentagon are at different distances from Sayshell and, seen from other angles, there could be no visible relationship among them at all. One or two stars might be in one half of the sky, the others in the other half. See here—”

Trevize darkened the room again and leaned over the computer. “There are eighty-six populated planetary systems making up the Sayshell Union. Let us keep Gaia—or the spot where Gaia ought to be—in place” (as he said that, a small red circle appeared in the center of the pentagon of the Five Sisters) “and shift to the skies as seen from any of the other eighty-six worlds taken at random.”

The sky shifted and Pelorat blinked. The small red circle remained at the center of the screen, but the Five Sisters had disappeared. There were bright stars in the neighborhood but no tight pentagon. Again the sky shifted, and again, and again. It went on shifting. The red circle remained in place always, but at no time did a small pentagon of equally bright stars appear. Sometimes what might be a distorted pentagon of stars—unequally bright—appeared, but nothing like the beautiful asterism Quintesetz had pointed out.

“Had enough?” said Trevize. “I assure you, the Five Sisters can never be seen exactly as we have seen it from any populated world but the worlds of the Sayshell planetary system.”

Pelorat said, “The Sayshellian view might have been exported to other planets. There were many proverbs in Imperial times—some of which linger into our own, in fact—that are Trantor-centered.”

“With Sayshell as secretive about Gaia as we know it to be? And why should worlds outside the Sayshell Union be interested? Why would they care about a ‘little Brother of the Five Sisters’ if there were nothing in the skies at which to point?”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Then don’t you see that your original information must have come from Sayshell itself? Not just from somewhere in the Union, but precisely from the planetary system to which the capital world of the Union belongs.”

Pelorat shook his head. “You make it sound as though it must, but it’s not something I remember. I simply don’t.”

“Nevertheless, you do see the force of my argument, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Next—When do you suppose the legend could have originated?”

“Anytime. I should suppose it developed far back in the Imperial Era. It has the feel of an ancient—”

“You are wrong, Janov. The Five Sisters are moderately close to Sayshell Planet, which is why they’re so bright. Four of them have high proper motions in consequence and no two are part of a family, so that they move in different directions. Watch what happens as I shift the map backward in time slowly.”

Again the red circle that marked the site of Gaia remained in place, but the pentagon slowly fell apart, as four of the stars drifted in different directions and the fifth shifted slightly.

“Look at that, Janov,” said Trevize. “Would you say that was a regular pentagon?”

“Clearly lopsided,” said Pelorat.

“And is Gaia at the center?”

“No, it’s well to the side.”

“Very well. That is how the asterism looked one hundred and fifty years ago. One and a half centuries, that’s all. —The material you received concerning ‘the Pentagon’s Center’ and so on made no real sense till this century anywhere, not even in Sayshell. The material you received had to originate in Sayshell and sometime in this century, perhaps in the last decade. And you got it, even though Sayshell is so close-mouthed about Gaia.”

Trevize put the lights on, turned the star map off, and sat there staring sternly at Pelorat.

Pelorat said, “I’m confused. What’s this about?”

“You tell me. Consider! Somehow I got the idea into my head that the Second Foundation still existed. I was giving a talk during my election campaign. I started a bit of emotional byplay designed to squeeze votes out of the undecided with a dramatic ‘If the Second Foundation still existed—’ and later that day I thought to myself: What if it did still exist? I began reading history books and within a week, I was convinced. There was no real evidence, but I have always felt that I had the knack of snatching the right conclusion out of a welter of speculation. This time, though—”

Trevize brooded a bit, then went on. “And look at what has happened since. Of all people, I chose Compor