Isaac Asimov - Foundation's Edge

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 Ultimate Spaceport, you and Professor Pelorat will leave quietly.”

“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 completed pocket-cruiser, the Far Star , named for Hober Mallow’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 girdles 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 not 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, Madam 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.”

The ship looked even more impressive than Trevize—with his memories of the time when the new cruiser-class had been glowingly publicized—had expected.

It was not the size that was impressive—for it was rather small. It was designed for maneuverability and speed, for totally gravitic engines, and most of all for advanced computerization. It didn’t need size—size would have defeated its purpose.

It was a one-man device that could replace, with advantage, the older ships that required a crew of a dozen or more. With a second or even a third person to establish shifts of duty, one such ship could fight off a flotilla of much larger non-Foundation ships. In addition, it could outspeed and escape from any other ship in existence.

There was a sleekness about it—not a wasted line, not a superfluous curve inside or out. Every cubic meter of volume was used to its maximum, so as to leave a paradoxical aura of spaciousness within. Nothing the Mayor might have said about the importance of his mission could have impressed Trevize more than the ship with which he was asked to perform it.

Branno the Bronze, he thought with chagrin, had maneuvered him into a dangerous mission of the greatest significance. He might not have accepted with such determination had she not so arranged matters that he wanted to show her what he could do.

As for Pelorat, he was transported with wonder. “Would you believe,” he said, placing a gentle finger on the hull before he had climbed inside, “that I’ve never been close to a spaceship?”

“I’ll believe it, of course, if you say so, Professor, but how did you manage it?”

“I scarcely know, to be honest with you, dear fel—, I mean, my dear Trevize. I presume I was overly concerned with my research. When one’s home has a really excellent computer capable of reaching other computers anywhere in the Galaxy, one scarcely needs to budge, you know. —Somehow I expected spaceships to be larger than this.”

“This is a small model, but even so, it’s much larger inside than any other ship of this size.”

“How can that be? You are making fun of my ignorance.”

“No, no. I’m serious. This is one of the first ships to be completely graviticized.”

“What does that mean? —But please don’t explain if it requires extensive physics. I will take your word, as you took mine yesterday in connection with the single species of humanity and the single world of origin.”

“Let’s try, Professor Pelorat. Through all the thousands of years of space flight, we’ve had chemical motors and ionic motors and hyperatomic motors, and all these things have been bulky. The old Imperial Navy had ships five hundred meters long with no more living space in them than would fit into a small apartment. Fortunately the Foundation has specialized in miniaturization through all the centuries of its existence, thanks to its lack of material resources. This ship is the culmination. It makes use of antigravity and the device that makes that possible takes up virtually no space and is actually included in the hull. If it weren’t that we still need the hyperatomic—”

A Security guard approached. “You will have to get on, gentlemen!”

The sky was growing light, though sunrise was still half an hour off.

Trevize looked about. “Is my baggage loaded?”

“Yes, Councilman, you will find the ship fully equipped.”

“With clothing, I suppose, that is not my size or to my taste.”

The guard smiled, quite suddenly and almost boyishly. “I think it is,” he said. “The Mayor had us working overtime these last thirty or forty hours and we’ve matched what you had closely. Money no object. Listen,” he looked about, as though to make sure no one noticed his sudden fraternization, “you two are lucky. Best ship in the world. Fully equipped, except for armament. You’re swimming in cream.”