Isaac Asimov - Foundation and Earth

“Is it that simple to collect heat-flow over a wide area? The mere act of concentration takes a great deal of energy.”

“Perhaps, but I am not aware of it. My transducer-lobes are constantly concentrating heat-flow so that as work is needed, work is done. When I drew your weapons into the air, a particular volume of the sunlit atmosphere lost some of its excess heat to a volume of the shaded area, so that I was using solar energy for the purpose. Instead of using mechanical or electronic devices to bring that about, however, I used a neuronic device.” It touched one of the transducer-lobes gently. “It does it quickly, efficiently, constantly—and effortlessly.”

“Unbelievable,” muttered Pelorat.

“Not at all unbelievable,” said Bander. “Consider the delicacy of the eye and ear, and how they can turn small quantities of photons and air vibrations into information. That would seem unbelievable if you had never come across it before. The transducer-lobes are no more unbelievable, and would not be so to you, were they not unfamiliar.”

Trevize said, “What do you do with these constantly operating transducer-lobes?”

“We run our world,” said Bander. “Every robot on this vast estate obtains its energy from me; or, rather, from natural heat-flow. Whether a robot is adjusting a contact, or felling a tree, the energy is derived from mental transduction— my mental transduction.”

“And if you are asleep?”

“The process of transduction continues waking or sleeping, little half-human,” said Bander. “Do you cease breathing when you sleep? Does your heart stop beating? At night, my robots continue working at the cost of cooling Solaria’s interior a bit. The change is immeasurably small on a global scale and there are only twelve hundred of us, so that all the energy we use does not appreciably shorten our sun’s life or drain the world’s internal heat.”

“Has it occurred to you that you might use it as a weapon?”

Bander stared at Trevize as though he were something peculiarly incomprehensible. “I suppose by that,” he said, “you mean that Solaria might confront other worlds with energy weapons based on transduction? Why should we? Even if we could beat their energy weapons based on other principles—which is anything but certain—what would we gain? The control of other worlds? What do we want with other worlds when we have an ideal world of our own? Do we want to establish our domination over half-humans and use them in forced labor? We have our robots that are far better than half-humans for the purpose. We have everything. We want nothing—except to be left to ourselves. See here—I’ll tell you another story.”

“Go ahead,” said Trevize.

“Twenty thousand years ago when the half-creatures of Earth began to swarm into space and we ourselves withdrew underground, the other Spacer worlds were determined to oppose the new Earth-settlers. So they struck at Earth.”

“At Earth,” said Trevize, trying to hide his satisfaction over the fact that the subject had come up at last.

“Yes, at the center. A sensible move, in a way. If you wish to kill a person, you strike not at a finger or a heel, but at the heart. And our fellow-Spacers, not too far removed from human beings themselves in passions, managed to set Earth’s surface radioactively aflame, so that the world became largely uninhabitable.”

“Ah, that’s what happened,” said Pelorat, clenching a fist and moving it rapidly, as though nailing down a thesis. “I knew it could not be a natural phenomenon. How was it done?”

“I don’t know how it was done,” said Bander indifferently, “and in any case it did the Spacers no good. That is the point of the story. The Settlers continued to swarm and the Spacers—died out. They had tried to compete, and vanished. We Solarians retired and refused to compete, and so we are still here.”

“And so are the Settlers,” said Trevize grimly.

“Yes, but not forever. Swarmers must fight, must compete, and eventually must die. That may take tens of thousands of years, but we can wait. And when it happens, we Solarians, whole, solitary, liberated, will have the Galaxy to ourselves. We can then use, or not use, any world we wish to in addition to our own.”

“But this matter of Earth,” said Pelorat, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Is what you tell us legend or history?”

“How does one tell the difference, half-Pelorat?” said Bander. “All history is legend, more or less.”

“But what do your records say? May I see the records on the subject, Bander? —Please understand that this matter of myths, legends, and primeval history is my field. I am a scholar dealing with such matters and particularly with those matters as related to Earth.”

“I merely repeat what I have heard,” said Bander. “There are no records on the subject. Our records deal entirely with Solarian affairs and other worlds are mentioned in them only insofar as they impinge upon us.”

“Surely, Earth has impinged on you,” said Pelorat.

“That may be, but, if so, it was long, long ago, and Earth, of all worlds, was most repulsive to us. If we had any records of Earth, I am sure they were destroyed out of sheer revulsion.”

Trevize gritted his teeth in chagrin. “By yourselves?” he asked.

Bander turned its attention to Trevize. “There is no one else to destroy them.”

Pelorat would not let go of the matter. “What else have you heard concerning Earth?”

Bander thought. It said, “When I was young, I heard a tale from a robot about an Earthman who once visited Solaria; about a Solarian woman who left with him and became an important figure in the Galaxy. That, however, was, in my opinion, an invented tale.”

Pelorat bit at his lip. “Are you sure?”

“How can I be sure of anything in such matters?” said Bander. “Still, it passes the bounds of belief that an Earthman would dare come to Solaria, or that Solaria would allow the intrusion. It is even less likely that a Solarian woman—we were half-humans then, but even so—should voluntarily leave this world. —But come, let me show you my home.”

“Your home?” said Bliss, looking about. “Are we not in your home?”

“Not at all,” said Bander. “This is an anteroom. It is a viewing room. In it I see my fellow-Solarians when I must. Their images appear on that wall, or three-dimensionally in the space before the wall. This room is a public assembly, therefore, and not part of my home. Come with me.”

It walked on ahead, without turning to see if it were followed, but the four robots left their corners, and Trevize knew that if he and his companions did not follow spontaneously, the robots would gently coerce them into doing so.

The other two got to their feet and Trevize whispered lightly to Bliss, “Have you been keeping it talking?”

Bliss pressed his hand, and nodded. “Just the same, I wish I knew what its intentions were,” she added, with a note of uneasiness in her voice.

They followed Bander. The robots remained at a polite distance, but their presence was a constantly felt threat.

They were moving through a corridor, and Trevize mumbled low-spiritedly, “There’s nothing helpful about Earth on this planet. I’m sure of it. Just another variation on the radioactivity theme.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to go on to the third set of co-ordinates.”

A door opened before them, revealing a small room. Bander said, “Come, half-humans, I want to show you how we live.”

Trevize whispered, “It gets infantile pleasure out of display. I’d love to knock it down.”

“Don’t try to compete in childishness,” said Bliss.

Bander ushered all three into the room. One of the robots followed as well. Bander gestured the other robots away and entered itself. The door closed behind it.