Isaac Asimov - Foundation and Earth

“Monolee he calls himself.”

“—to Monolee, then. And do you think Monolee would be willing to speak to my friend?”

“He? Willing to speak?” said Hiroko scornfully. “Thou must ask, rather, if he be ever ready to cease from speaking. He is but a man, and will therefore speak, if allowed, till a fortnight hence, with no pause. I mean no offense, respected sir.”

“No offense taken. Would you lead my friend to Monolee now?”

“That may anyone do at any time. The ancient is ever home and ever ready to greet an ear.”

Trevize said, “And perhaps an older woman would be willing to come and sit with Madam Bliss. She has the child to care for and cannot move about too much. It would please her to have company, for women, as you know, are fond of—”

“Prating?” said Hiroko, clearly amused. “Why, so men say, although I have observed that men are always the greater babblers. Let the men return from their fishing, and one will vie with another in telling greater flights of fancy concerning their catches. None will mark them nor believe, but this will not stop them, either. But enough of my prating, too. —I will have a friend of my mother’s, one whom I can see through the window, stay with Madam Bliss and the child, and before that she will guide your friend, the respected doctor, to the aged Monolee. If your friend will hear as avidly as Monolee will prate, thou wilt scarcely part them in this life. Wilt thou pardon my absence a moment?”

When she had left, Trevize turned to Pelorat and said, “Listen, get what you can out of the old man, and Bliss, you find out what you can from whoever stays with you. What you want is anything about Earth.”

“And you?” said Bliss. “What will you do?”

“I will remain with Hiroko, and try to find a third source.”

Bliss smiled. “Ah yes. Pel will be with this old man; I with an old woman. You will force yourself to remain with this fetchingly unclad young woman. It seems a reasonable division of labor.”

“As it happens, Bliss, it is reasonable.”

“But you don’t find it depressing that the reasonable division of labor should work out so, I suppose.”

“No, I don’t. Why should I?”

“Why should you, indeed?”

Hiroko was back, and sat down again. “It is all arranged. The respected Dr. Pelorat will be taken to Monolee; and the respected Madam Bliss, together with her child, will have company. May I be granted, then, respected Sir Trevize, the boon of further conversation with thee, mayhap of this Old Earth of which thou—”

“Pratest?” asked Trevize.

“Nay,” said Hiroko, laughing. “But thou dost well to mock me. I showed thee but discourtesy ere now in answering thy question on this matter. I would fain make amends.”

Trevize turned to Pelorat. “Fain?”

“Be eager,” said Pelorat softly.

Trevize said, “Miss Hiroko, I felt no discourtesy, but if it will make you feel better, I will gladly speak with you.”

“Kindly spoken. I thank thee,” said Hiroko, rising.

Trevize rose, too. “Bliss,” he said, “make sure Janov remains safe.”

“Leave that to me. As for you, you have your—” She nodded toward his holsters.

“I don’t think I’ll need them,” said Trevize uncomfortably.

He followed Hiroko out of the dining room. The sun was higher in the sky now and the temperature was still warmer. There was an otherworldly smell as always. Trevize remembered it had been faint on Comporellon, a little musty on Aurora, and rather delightful on Solaria. (On Melpomenia, they were in space suits where one is only aware of the smell of one’s own body.) In every case, it disappeared in a matter of hours as the osmic centers of the nose grew saturated.

Here, on Alpha, the odor was a pleasant grassy fragrance under the warming effect of the sun, and Trevize felt a bit annoyed, knowing that this, too, would soon disappear.

They were approaching a small structure that seemed to be built of a pale pink plaster.

“This,” said Hiroko, “is my home. It used to belong to my mother’s younger sister.”

She walked in and motioned Trevize to follow. The door was open or, Trevize noticed as he passed through, it would be more accurate to say there was no door.

Trevize said, “What do you do when it rains?”

“We are ready. It will rain two days hence, for three hours ere dawn, when it is coolest, and when it will moisten the soil most powerfully. Then I have but to draw this curtain, both heavy and water-repellent, across the door.”

She did so as she spoke. It seemed made of a strong canvas-like material.

“I will leave it in place now,” she went on. “All will then know I am within but not available, for I sleep or am occupied in matters of importance.”

“It doesn’t seem much of a guardian of privacy.”

“Why should it not be? See, the entrance is covered.”

“But anyone could shove it aside.”

“With disregard of the wishes of the occupant?” Hiroko looked shocked. “Are such things done on thy world? It would be barbarous.”

Trevize grinned. “I only asked.”

She led him into the second of two rooms, and, at her invitation, he seated himself in a padded chair. There was something claustrophobic about the blockish smallness and emptiness of the rooms, but the house seemed designed for little more than seclusion and rest. The window openings were small and near the ceiling, but there were dull mirror strips in a careful pattern along the walls, which reflected light diffusely. There were slits in the floor from which a gentle, cool breeze uplifted. Trevize saw no signs of artificial lighting and wondered if Alphans had to wake at sunrise and go to bed at sunset.

He was about to ask, but Hiroko spoke first, saying, “Is Madam Bliss thy woman companion?”

Trevize said cautiously, “Do you mean by that, is she my sexual partner?”

Hiroko colored. “I pray thee, have regard for the decencies of polite conversation, but I do mean private pleasantry.”

“No, she is the woman companion of my learned friend.”

“But thou art the younger, and the more goodly.”

“Well, thank you for your opinion, but it is not Bliss’s opinion. She likes Dr. Pelorat much more than she does me.”

“That much surprises me. Will he not share?”

“I have not asked him whether he would, but I’m sure he wouldn’t. Nor would I want him to.”

Hiroko nodded her head wisely. “I know. It is her fundament.”

“Her fundament?”

“Thou knowest. This.” And she slapped her own dainty rear end.

“Oh, that! I understand you. Yes, Bliss is generously proportioned in her pelvic anatomy.” He made a curving gesture with his hands and winked. (And Hiroko laughed.)

Trevize said, “Nevertheless, a great many men enjoy that kind of generosity of figure.”

“I cannot believe so. Surely it would be a sort of gluttony to wish excess of that which is pleasant in moderation. Wouldst thou think more of me if my breasts were massive and dangling, with nipples pointing to toes? I have, in good sooth, seen such, yet have I not seen men flock to them. The poor women so afflicted must needs cover their monstrosities—as Madam Bliss does.”

“Such oversize wouldn’t attract me, either, though I am sure that Bliss doesn’t cover her breasts for any imperfection they may have.”

“Thou dost not, then, disapprove of my visage or form?”

“I would be a madman to do so. You are beautiful.”

“And what dost thou for pleasantries on this ship of thine, as thou flittest from one world to the next— Madam Bliss being denied thee?”

“Nothing, Hiroko. There’s nothing to do. I think of pleasantries on occasion and that has its discomforts, but we who travel through space know well that there are times when we must do without. We make up for it at other times.”