Foundation and Earth

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.

Involuntarily, he wondered what would happen if it were to rain. Surely, the rain would come only when it was needed, light and mild, continuing without significant wind till enough had fallen. Moreover, it would always come at known times so that the Alphans would be ready for it, Trevize imagined.

The window he was facing looked out to sea, and far out at the horizon it seemed to Trevize that he could make out a bank of clouds similar to those that so nearly filled the skies everywhere but over this little spot of Eden.

There were advantages to weather control.

Eventually, they were served by a young woman on tiptoeing feet. They were not asked for their choice, but were merely served. There was a small glass of milk, a larger of grape juice, a still larger of water. Each diner received two large poached eggs, with slivers of white cheese on the side. Each also had a large platter of broiled fish and small roasted potatoes, resting on cool, green lettuce leaves.

Bliss looked with dismay at the quantity of food before her and was clearly at a loss where to begin. Fallom had no such trouble. She drank the grape juice thirstily and with clear evidence of approval, then chewed away at the fish and potatoes. She was about to use her fingers for the purpose, but Bliss held up a large spoon with tined ends that could serve as a fork as well, and Fallom accepted it.

Pelorat smiled his satisfaction and cut into the eggs at once.

Trevize, saying, “Now to be reminded what real eggs taste like,” followed suit.

Hiroko, forgetting to eat her own breakfast in her delight at the manner in which the others ate (for even Bliss finally began, with obvious relish), said, at last, “Is it well?”

“It is well,” said Trevize, his voice somewhat muffled. “This island has no shortage of food, apparently. —Or do you serve us more than you should, out of politeness?”

Hiroko listened with intent eyes, and seemed to grasp the meaning, for she said, “No, no, respected sir. Our land is bountiful, our sea even more so. Our ducks give eggs, our goats both cheese and milk. And there are our grains. Above all, our sea is filled with countless varieties of fish in numberless quantity. The whole Empire could eat at our tables and consume not the fish of our sea.”

Trevize smiled discreetly. Clearly, the young Alphan had not the smallest idea of the true size of the Galaxy.

He said, “You call this island New Earth, Hiroko. Where, then, might Old Earth be?”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “Old Earth, say you? I crave pardon, respected sir. I take not thy meaning.”

Trevize said, “Before there was a New Earth, your people must have lived elsewhere. Where was this elsewhere from which they came?”

“I know naught of that, respected sir,” she said, with troubled gravity. “This land has been mine all my life, and my mother’s and grandmother’s before me; and, I doubt not, their grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s before them. Of any other land, I know naught.”

“But,” said Trevize, descending to gentle argumentation, “you speak of this land as New Earth. Why do you call it that?”

“Because, respected sir,” she replied, equally gentle, “that is what it is called by all since the mind of woman goeth not to the contrary.”

“But it is New Earth, and therefore, a later Earth. There must be an Old Earth, a former one, for which it was named. Each morning there is a new day, and that implies that earlier there had existed an old day. Don’t you see that this must be so?”

“Nay, respected sir. I know only what this land is called. I know of naught else, nor do I follow this reasoning of thine which sounds very much like what we call here chop-logic. I mean no offense.”

And Trevize shook his head and felt defeated.

77.

Trevize leaned toward Pelorat, and whispered, “Wherever we go, whatever we do, we get no information.”

“We know where Earth is, so what does it matter?” said Pelorat, doing little more than move his lips.

“I want to know something about it.”

“She’s very young. Scarcely a repository of information.”

Trevize thought about that, then nodded. “Right, Janov.”

He turned to Hiroko and said, “Miss Hiroko, you haven’t asked us why we are here in your land?”

Hiroko’s eyes fell, and she said, “That would be but scant courtesy until you have all eaten and rested, respected sir.”

“But we have eaten, or almost so, and we have recently rested, so I shall tell you why we are here. My friend, Dr. Pelorat, is a scholar on our world, a learned man. He is a mythologist. Do you know what that means?”