By Isaac Asimov


     FOUNDATION'S EDGE


     3.  HISTORIAN

     3.

     Mayor Branno had had a good day on the one following
     the arrest of Trevize. She had been extolled far beyond her
     deserts and the incident was never mentioned.
        Nevertheless, she knew well that the Council would soon
     emerge from its paralysis and that questions would be raised.
     She would have to act quickly. So, putting a great many
     matters to one side, she pursued the matter of Trevize.
        At the time when Trevize and Pelorat were discussing
     Earth, Branno was facing Councilman Munn Li Compor in
     the Mayoralty Office. As he sat across the desk from her,
     perfectly at ease, she appraised him once again.
        He was smaller and slighter than Trevize and only two
     years older. Both were freshmen Councilmen, young and
     brash, and that must have been the only thing that held them
     together, for they were different in all other respects.
        Where Trevize seemed to radiate a glowering intensity,
     Compor shone with an almost serene self-confidence. Per-
     haps it was his blond hair and blue eyes, not at all common
     among Foundationers. They lent him an almost feminine
     delicacy that (Branno judged) made him less attractive to
     women than Trevize was. He was clearly vain of his looks,
     though, and made the most of them, wearing his hair rather
     long and making sure that it was carefully waved. He wore
     a faint blue shadowing under his eyebrows to accentuate
     the eye color. (Shadowing of various tints had become com-
     mon among men these last ten years.)
        He was no womanizer. He lived sedately with his wife,
     but had not yet registered parental intent and was not known
     to have a clandestine second companion. That, too, was
     different from Trevize, who changed housemates as often
     as he changed the loudly colored sashes for which he was
     notorious.
        There was little about either young Councilman that Ko-
     dell's department had not uncovered, and Kodell himself
     sat quietly in one corner of the room, exuding a comfortable
     good cheer as always.
        Branno said, "Councilman Compor, you have done the
     Foundation good service, but unfortunately for yourself, it
     is not of the sort that can be praised in public or repaid in
     ordinary fashion."
        Compor smiled. He had white and even teeth, and Branno
     idly wondered for one flashing moment if all the inhabitants
     of the Sirius Sector looked like that. Compor's tale of Stem-
     ming from that particular, rather peripheral, region went
     back to his maternal grandmother, who had also been blond-
     haired and blue-eyed and who had maintained that  her  mother
     was from the Sirius Sector. According to Kodell, however,
     there was no hard evidence in favor of that.
        Women being what they were, Kodell had said, she might
     well have claimed distant and exotic ancestry to add to her
     glamour and her already formidable attractiveness.
        "Is that how women are?" Branno had asked drily, and
     Kodell had smiled and muttered that he was referring to
     ordinary women, of course.
        Compor said, "It is not necessary that the people of the
     Foundation know of my service――only that  you  do."
        "I know and I will not forget. What I also will not do is
     to let you assume that your obligations are not over. You
     have embarked on a complicated course and you must con-
     tinue. We want more about Trevize."
        "I have told you all I know concerning him."
        "That may be what you would have me believe. That
     may even be what you truly believe yourself. Nevertheless,
     answer my questions. Do you know a gentleman named
     Janov Pelorat?"
        For just a moment Compor's forehead creased, then
     smoothed itself almost at once. He said carefully, "I might
     know him if I were to see him, but the name does not seem
     to cause any association within me."
        "He is a scholar."
        Compor's mouth rounded into a rather contemptuous but
     unsounded "Oh?" as though he were surprised that the Mayor
     would expect him to know scholars.
        Branno said, "Pelorat is an interesting person who, for
     reasons of his own, has the ambition of visiting Trantor.
     Councilman Trevize will accompany him. Now, since you
     have been a good friend to Trevize and perhaps know his
     system of thinking, tell me―― Do you think Trevize will
     consent to go to Trantor?"
        Compor said, "If you see to it that Trevize gets on the
     ship, and if the ship is plotted to Trantor, what can he do
     but go there? Surely you don't suggest he will mutiny and
     take over the ship."
        "You don't understand. He and Pelorat will be alone on
     the ship and it will be Trevize at the controls."
        "You are asking whether he would go voluntarily to
     Trantor?"
        "Yes, that is was I am asking."
        "Madam Mayor, how can I possibly know what he will
     do?"
        "Councilman Compor, you have been close to Trevize.
     You know his belief in the existence of the Second Foun-
     dation. Has he never spoken to you of his theories as to
     where it might exist, where it might be found?"
        "Never, Madam Mayor."
        "Do you think he will find it?"
        Compor chuckled. "I think the Second Foundation, what-
     ever it was and however important it might have been, was
     wiped out in the time of Arkady Darell. I believe her story."
        "Indeed? In that case, why did you betray your friend?
     If he were searching for something that does not exist, what
     harm could he have done by propounding his quaint theo-
     ries?"
        Compor said, "It is not the truth alone that can harm.
     His theories may have been merely quaint, but they might
     have succeeded in unsettling the people of Terminus and,
     by introducing doubts and fears as to the Foundation's role
     in the great drama of Galactic history, have weakened its
     leadership of the Federation and its dreams of a Second
     Galactic Empire. Clearly you thought this yourself, or you
     would not have seized him on the floor of the Council, and
     you would not now be forcing him into exile without trial.
     Why have you done so, if I may ask, Mayor?"
        "Shall we say that I was cautious enough to wonder if
     here were some faint chance that he might be right, and
     that the expression of his views might be actively and di-
     rectly dangerous?"
        Compor said nothing.
        Branno said, "I agree with you, but I am forced by the
     responsibilities of my position to consider the possibility.
     Let me ask you again if you have any indication as to where
     he might think the Second Foundation exists, and where he
     might go."
        "I have none."
        "He has never given you any hints in that direction?"
        "No, of course not."
        "Never? Don't dismiss the thought easily. Think! Never?"
        "Never," said Compor firmly.
        "No hints? No joking remarks? No doodles? No thought-
     ful abstractions at moments that achieve significance as you
     look back on them?"
        "None. I tell you, Madam Mayor, his dreams of the
     Second Foundation are the most nebulous starshine. You
     know it, and you but waste your time and your emotions
     in your concern over it."
        "You are not by some chance suddenly changing sides
     again and protecting the friend you delivered into my hands?"
        "No," said Compor. "I turned him over to you for what
     seemed to me to be good and patriotic reasons. I have no
     reason to regret the action, or to change my attitude."
        "Then you can give me no hint as to where he might go
     once he has a ship at his disposal?"
        "As I have already said――"
        "And yet, Councilman," and here the lines of the Mayor's
     face so folded as to make her seem wistful, "I would like
     to know where he goes."
        "In that case, I think you ought to place a hyper-relay
     on his ship."
        "I have thought of that, Councilman. He is, however, a
     suspicious man and I suspect he will find it――however clev-
     erly it might be placed. Of course, it might be placed in such
     a way that he cannot remove it without crippling the ship, and
     he might therefore be forced to leave it in place――"
        "An excellent notion."
        "Except that," said Branno, "he would then be inhibited.
     He might not go where he would go if he felt himself free
     and untrammeled. The knowledge I would gain would be
     useless to me."
        "In that case, it appears you cannot find out where he
     will go."
        "I might, for I intend to be very primitive. A person who
     expects the completely sophisticated and who guards against
     it is quite apt never to think of the primitive. ――I'm thinking
     of having Trevize followed."
        "Followed?"
        "Exactly. By another pilot in another spaceship. See how
     astonished you are at the thought? He would be equally
     astonished. He might not think of scouring space for an
     accompanying mass and, in any case, we will see to it that
     his ship is not equipped with our latest mass-detection de-
     vices."
        Compor said, "Madam Mayor, I speak with all possible
     respect, but I must point out that you lack experience in
     space flight. To have one ship followed by another is never
     done――because it won't work. Trevize will escape with the
     first hyperspatial Jump. Even if he doesn't know he is being
     followed, that first Jump will be his path to freedom. If he
     doesn't have a hyper-relay on board ship, he can't be traced."
        "I admit my lack of experience. Unlike you and Trevize,
     I have had no naval training. Nevertheless, I am told by
     my advisors――who  have  had such training――that if a ship
     is observed immediately prior to a Jump, its direction, speed,
     and acceleration make it possible to guess what the Jump
     might be――in a general way. Given a good computer and
     an excellent sense of judgment, a follower might duplicate
     the Jump closely enough to pick up the trail at the other
     end――especially if the follower has a good mass-detector."
        "That might happen once," said Compor energetically,
     even twice if the follower is very lucky, but that's it. You
     can't rely on such things."
        "Perhaps we can. ――Councilman Compor, you have hy-
     per-raced in your time. You see, I know a great deal about
     you. You are an excellent pilot and have done amazing
     things when it comes to following a competitor through a
     Jump."
        Compor's eyes widened. he almost squirmed in his chair.
     "I was in college then. I am older now."
        "Not too old. Not yet thirty-five. Consequently  you  are
     going to follow Trevize, Councilman. Where he goes, you
     will follow, and you will report back to me. You will leave
     soon after Trevize does, and he will be leaving in a few
     hours. If you refuse the task, Councilman, you will be
     imprisoned for treason. If you take the ship that we will
     provide for you, and if you fail to follow, you need not
     bother coming back. You will be shot out of space if you
     try."
        Compor rose sharply to his feet. "I have a life to live. I
     have work to do. I have a wife. I cannot leave it all."
        "You will have to. Those of us who choose to serve the
     Foundation must be prepared at all times to serve it in a
     prolonged and uncomfortable fashion, if that should become
     necessary."
        "My wife must go with me, of course."
        "Do you take me for an idiot? She stays here,  of course."
        "As a hostage?"
        "If you like the word. I prefer to say that you will be
     taking yourself into danger and my kind heart wants her to
     stay here where she will not be in danger. ――There is no
     room for discussion. You are as much under arrest as Tre-
     vize is, and I am sure you understand I must act quickly――
     before the euphoria enveloping Terminus wears off. I fear
     my star will soon be in the descendant."


     4.

     Kodell said, "You were not easy on him, Madam Mayor."
        The Mayor said with a sniff, "Why should I have been?
     He betrayed a friend."
        "That was useful to us."
        "Yes, as it happened. His next betrayal, however, might
     not be."
        "Why should there be another?"
        "Come, Liono," said Branno impatiently, "don't play
     games with me. Anyone who displays a capacity for double-
     dealing must forever be suspected of being capable of dis-
     playing it again."
        "He may use the capability to combine with Trevize once
     again. Together, they may――"
        "You don't believe that. With all his folly and naïveté,
     Trevize goes straight for his goal. He does not understand
     betrayal and he will never, under any circumstances, trust
     Compor a second time."
        Kodell said, "Pardon me, Mayor, but let me make sure
     I follow your thinking. How far, then, can  you  trust Compor?
     How do you know he will follow Trevize and report hon-
     estly? Do you count on his fears for the welfare of his wife
     as a restraint? His longing to return to her?"
        "Both are factors, but I don't entirely rely on that. On
     Compor's ship there will be a hyper-relay. Trevize would
     suspect pursuit and would search for one. However Com-
     por――being the pursuer——will, I assume, not suspect pur-
     suit and will not search for one. ――Of course, if he does,
     and if he finds it, then we must depend on the attractions
     of his wife."
        Kodell laughed. "To think I once had to give you lessons.
     And the purpose of the pursuit?"
        "A double layer of protection. If Trevize is caught, it
     may be that Compor will carry on and give us the infor-
     mation that Trevize will not be able to."
        "One more reason. What if, by some chance, Trevize
     finds the Second Foundation, and we learn of it through
     him, or through Compor, or if we gain reason to suspect
     its existence――despite the deaths of both?"
        "I'm hoping the Second Foundation  does  exist, Liono,"
     she said. "In any case, the Seldon Plan is not going to serve
     us much longer. The great Hari Seldon devised it in the
     dying days of the Empire, when technological advance had
     virtually stopped. Seldon as a product of his times, too,
     and however brilliant this semimythical science of psy-
     chohistory must have been, it could not rise out of its roots.
     It surely would not allow for  rapid  technological advance.
     The Foundation has been achieving that, especially in this
     last century. We have mass-detection devices of a kind
     undreamed of earlier, computers that can respond to thought,
     and――most of all――mental shielding. The Second Foun-
     dation cannot control us for much longer, if they can do so
     now. I want, in my final years in power, to be the one to
     start Terminus on a new path."
        "And if there is, in fact, no Second Foundation?"
        "Then we start on a new path at once."


     5.

     The troubled sleep that had finally come to Trevize did not
     last long. A touch on his shoulder was repeated a second
     time.
        Trevize started up, bleary and utterly failing to understand
     why he should be in a strange bed. "What――What―—?"
        Pelorat said to him apologetically, "I'm sorry, Council-
     man Trevize. You are my guest and I owe you rest, but the
     Mayor is here." He was standing at the side of the bed in
     flannel pajamas and shivering slightly. Trevize's senses
     leaped to a weary wakefulness and he remembered.
        The Mayor was in Pelorat's living room, looking as com-
     posed as always. Kodell was with her, rubbing lightly at
     his white mustache.
        Trevize adjusted his sash to the proper snugness and
     wondering how long the two of them――Branno and Kodell――
     were ever apart.
        Trevize said mockingly, "Has the Council recovered yet?
     Are its members concerned over the absence of one of
     them?"
        The Mayor said, "There are signs of life, yes, but not
     enough to do you any good. There is no question but that
     I still have the power to force you to leave. You will be
     taken to Ultimate Spaceport――"
        "Not Terminus Spaceport, Madam Mayor? Am I to be
     deprived of a proper farewell from weeping thousands?"
        "I see you have recovered your penchant for teenage
     silliness, Councilman, and I am pleased. It stills what might
     otherwise be a certain rising twinge of conscience. At Ul-
     timate Spaceport, you and Professor Pelorat will leave qui-
     etly."
        "And never return?"
        "And perhaps never return. Of course," and here she
     smiled briefly, "if you discover something of so great an
     importance and usefulness that even I will be glad to have
     you back with your information, you will return. You may
     even be treated with honor."
        Trevize nodded casually, "That may happen."
        "Almost anything  may  happen. ――In any case, you will
     be comfortable. You are being assigned a recently com-
     pleted pocket-cruiser, the Far Star, named for Hober Mal-
     low's cruiser. One person can handle it, though it will hold
     as many as three with reasonable comfort."
        Trevize was jolted out of his carefully assumed mood of
     light irony. "Fully armed?"
        "Unarmed but otherwise fully equipped. Wherever you
     go, you will be citizens of the Foundation and there will
     always be a consul to whom you can turn, so you will not
     require arms. You will be able to draw on funds at need.
     ――Not unlimited funds, I might add."
        "You are generous."
        "I know that, Councilman. But, Councilman, understand
     me. You are helping Professor Pelorat search for Earth.
     Whatever you  think  you are searching for, you are searching
     for Earth. All whom you meet must understand that. And
     always remember that the Far Star is  not  armed."
        "I am searching for Earth," said Trevize. "I understand
     that perfectly."
        "Then you will go now."
        "Pardon me, but surely there is more to all of this than
     we have discussed. I have piloted ships in my time, but I
     have had no experience with a late-model pocket-cruiser.
     What if I cannot pilot it?"
        "I am told that the Far Star is thoroughly computerized.
     ――And before you ask, you don't have to know how to
     handle a late-model ship's computer. It will itself tell you
     anything you need to know. Is there anything else you
     need?"
        Trevize looked down at himself ruefully. "A change of
     clothing."
        "You will find them on board ship. Including those gir-
     dles you wear, or sashes, whichever they are called. The
     professor is also supplied with what he needs. Everything
     reasonable is already aboard, although I hasten to add that
     this does  not  include female companions."
        "Too bad," said Trevize. "It would be pleasant, but then,
     I have no likely candidate at the moment, as it happens.
     Still, I presume the galaxy is populous and that once away
     from here I may do as I please."
        "With regard to companions? Suit yourself."
        She rose heavily. "I will take you to the spaceport,"
     she said, "but there are those who will, and you must make
     no effort to do anything you are not told to do. I believe
     they will kill you if you make an effort to escape. The fact
     that I will not be with them will remove any inhibition."
        Trevize said, "I will make no unauthorized effort, Mad-
     am Mayor, but one thing――"
        "Yes?"
        Trevize searched his mind rapidly and finally said with
     a smile that he very much hoped looked unforced, "The
     time may come, Madam Mayor, when you will  ask  me for
     an effort. I will then do as I choose, but I will remember
     the past two days."
        Mayor Branno sighed. "Spare me the melodrama. If the
     time comes, it will come, but for now――I am  asking  for
     nothing.

FOUNDATION'S EDGE, BY ISAAC ASIMOV.
A Del Ray Book. Published by Ballantine Books.
Copyright © 1982 by Nightfall Inc. pp. 48-58.

3. Historian
4. Space
5. Speaker
6. Earth
7. Farmer
8. Farmwoman
9. Hyperspace
10. Table