Isaac Asimov - Foundation and Earth

Pelorat said thoughtfully, “Why should it, Bliss? It’s only a logical inference, after all.”

“Another logical inference can be drawn from that death. Deaths must be few and far distant on Solaria with its long-lived and isolated Spacers. Experience of natural death must be a limited one for any of them, and probably absent altogether for a Solarian child of Fallom’s age. If Fallom continues to think of Bander’s death, she’s going to begin to wonder why Bander died, and the fact that it happened when we strangers were on the planet will surely lead her to the obvious cause and effect.”

“That we killed Bander?”

“It wasn’t we who killed Bander, Pel. It was I .”

“She couldn’t guess that.”

“But I would have to tell her that. She is annoyed with Trevize as it is, and he is clearly the leader of the expedition. She would take it for granted that it would be he who would have brought about the death of Bander, and how could I allow Trevize to bear the blame unjustly?”

“What would it matter, Bliss? The child feels nothing for her fath—mother. Only for her robot, Jemby.”

“But the death of the mother meant the death of her robot, too. I almost did own up to my responsibility. I was strongly tempted.”

“Why?”

“So I could explain it my way. So I could soothe her, forestall her own discovery of the fact in a reasoning process that would work it out in a way that would offer no justification for it.”

“But there was justification. It was self-defense. In a moment, we all would have been dead, if you had not acted.”

“It’s what I would have said, but I could not bring myself to explain. I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me.”

Pelorat shook his head. He said, sighing, “Do you suppose it might have been better if we had not brought her? The situation makes you so unhappy.”

“No,” said Bliss angrily, “don’t say that. It would have made me infinitely more unhappy to have to sit here right now and remember that we had left an innocent child behind to be slaughtered mercilessly because of what we had done.”

“It’s the way of Fallom’s world.”

“Now, Pel, don’t fall into Trevize’s way of thinking. Isolates find it possible to accept such things and think no more about it. The way of Gaia is to save life, however, not destroy it—or to sit idly by while it is destroyed. Life of all kinds must, we all know, constantly be coming to an end in order that other life might endure, but never uselessly, never to no end. Bander’s death, though unavoidable, is hard enough to bear; Fallom’s would have been past all bounds.”

“Ah well,” said Pelorat, “I suppose you’re right. —And in any case, it is not the problem of Fallom concerning which I’ve come to see you. It’s Trevize.”

“What about Trevize?”

“Bliss, I’m worried about him. He’s waiting to determine the facts about Earth, and I’m not sure he can withstand the strain.”

“I don’t fear for him. I suspect he has a sturdy and stable mind.”

“We all have our limits. Listen, the planet Earth is warmer than he expected it to be; he told me so. I suspect that he thinks it may be too warm for life, though he’s clearly trying to talk himself into believing that’s not so.”

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not too warm for life.”

“Also, he admits it’s possible that the warmth might possibly arise from a radioactive crust, but he is refusing to believe that also. —In a day or two, we’ll be close enough so that the truth of the matter will be unmistakable. What if Earth is radioactive?”

“Then he’ll have to accept the fact.”

“But—I don’t know how to say this, or how to put it in mental terms. What if his mind—”

Bliss waited, then said wryly, “Blows a fuse?”

“Yes. Blows a fuse. Shouldn’t you do something now to strengthen him? Keep him level and under control, so to speak?”

“No, Pel. I can’t believe he’s that fragile, and there is a firm Gaian decision that his mind must not be tampered with.”

“But that’s the very point. He has this unusual ‘rightness,’ or whatever you want to call it. The shock of his entire project falling to nothingness at the moment when it seems successfully concluded may not destroy his brain, but it may destroy his ‘rightness.’ It’s a very unusual property he has. Might it not be unusually fragile, too?”

Bliss remained for a moment in thought. Then she shrugged. “Well, perhaps I’ll keep an eye on him.”

For the next thirty-six hours, Trevize was vaguely aware that Bliss and, to a lesser degree, Pelorat, tended to dog his footsteps. Still, that was not utterly unusual in a ship as compact as theirs, and he had other things on his mind.

Now, as he sat at the computer, he was aware of them standing just inside the doorway. He looked up at them, his face blank.

“Well?” he said, in a very quiet voice.

Pelorat said, rather awkwardly, “How are you, Golan?”

Trevize said, “Ask Bliss. She’s been staring at me intently for hours. She must be poking through my mind. —Aren’t you, Bliss?”

“No, I am not,” said Bliss evenly, “but if you feel the need for my help, I can try. —Do you want my help?”

“No, why should I? Leave me alone. Both of you.”

Pelorat said, “Please tell us what’s going on.”

“Guess!”

“Is Earth—”

“Yes, it is. What everyone insisted on telling us is perfectly true.” Trevize gestured at the viewscreen, where Earth presented its nightside and was eclipsing the sun. It was a solid circle of black against the starry sky, its circumference outlined by a broken orange curve.

Pelorat said, “Is that orange the radioactivity?”

“No. Just refracted sunlight through the atmosphere. It would be a solid orange circle if the atmosphere weren’t so cloudy. We can’t see the radioactivity. The various radiations, even the gamma rays, are absorbed by the atmosphere. However, they do set up secondary radiations, comparatively feeble ones, but the computer can detect them. They’re still invisible to the eye, but the computer can produce a photon of visible light for each particle or wave of radiation it receives and put Earth into false color. Look.”

And the black circle glowed with a faint, blotchy blue.

“How much radioactivity is there?” asked Bliss, in a low voice. “Enough to signify that no human life can exist there?”

“No life of any kind,” said Trevize. “The planet is uninhabitable. The last becterium, the last virus, is long gone.”

“Can we explore it?” said Pelorat. “I mean, in space suits.”

“For a few hours—before we come down with irreversible radiation sickness.”

“Then what do we do, Golan?”

“Do?” Trevize looked at Pelorat with that same expressionless face. “Do you know what I would like to do? I would like to take you and Bliss—and the child—back to Gaia and leave you all there forever. Then I would like to go back to Terminus and hand back the ship. Then I would like to resign from the Council, which ought to make Mayor Branno very happy. Then I would like to live on my pension and let the Galaxy go as it will. I won’t care about the Seldon Plan, or about the Foundation, or about the Second Foundation, or about Gaia. The Galaxy can choose its own path. It will last my time and why should I care a snap as to what happens afterward?”

“Surely, you don’t mean it, Golan,” said Pelorat urgently.

Trevize stared at him for a while, and then he drew a long breath. “No, I don’t, but, oh, how I wish I could do exactly what I have just outlined to you.”