Foundation and Earth

“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.”

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.

The Far Star 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.”

“The cloud cover seems pretty thick,” said Pelorat.

“That should not blank out radio radiation.”

They watched the planet wheeling below them, a symphony in swirling white clouds, through occasional gaps of which a bluish wash indicated ocean.

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.”

“The way they did back at Comporellon, you mean?” said Pelorat.

“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.”

Bliss said, “Perhaps we missed the hail for some reason.”

“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.”

The Far Star 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.

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.

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?”

“That is an ocean,” said Bliss soothingly. “It is a very large mass of water.”

“Why does it not dry up?”

Bliss looked at Trevize, who said, “There’s too much water for it to dry up.”

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 Far Star moved through a patch of storm clouds so that the viewscreen turned milky and was streaked with the mark of raindrops.

The lights in the pilot-room dimmed and the ship’s motion became slightly jerky.

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!”

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.”

Fallom relaxed somewhat but continued to tremble.

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?”

“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.”

Bliss nodded curtly.

Pelorat said, “I’ll come with you, Bliss.”

“No, no, Pel,” she responded. “You stay here. I’ll soothe Fallom and you soothe Trevize.” And she left.

“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?”

“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.”

“I know. It wasn’t I who wanted to take her along, remember. It was Bliss’s idea.”

“Yes, but the child would have been killed, if we hadn’t taken her.”

“Well, I’ll apologize to Bliss later on. To the child, too.”

But he was still frowning, and Pelorat said gently, “Golan, old chap, is there anything else bothering you?”

“The ocean,” said Trevize. They had long emerged from the rain storm, but the clouds persisted.

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Pelorat.

“There’s too much of it, that’s all.”

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?”

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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“Travel through the sea requires streamlining. Sea life cannot have irregular outlines and appendages such as hands.”

“Squids have tentacles.”

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.”

“In your opinion,” said Pelorat gently.

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.”

As he spoke, the ship plunged into the night-shadow again, and the view-screen turned black.

Pelorat winced. “I keep wondering,” he said. “Is this safe?”

“Is what safe, Janov?”

“Racing through the dark like this. We might dip, and dive into the ocean, and be destroyed instantly.”

“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.”

“But how high?”

“Nearly five kilometers.”

“That doesn’t really console me, Golan. Might we not reach land and smash into a mountain we don’t