Isaac Asimov - Foundation's Edge

For a first-timer, she did very well, almost as well as Gendibal was managing to do. She repressed her own tensions and she followed directions. Gendibal found himself, once again, very pleased with her.

She was, however, clearly glad to be on board ship again—and so was Gendibal. He looked about as he removed his space suit and was rather dumbfounded at the luxury and style of the equipment. He recognized almost nothing and his heart sank at the thought that he might have very little time to learn how to handle it all. He might have to transfer expertise directly from the man already on board, something that was never quite as satisfactory as true learning.

Then he concentrated on Compor. Compor was tall and lean, a few years older than himself, rather handsome in a slightly weak way, with tightly waved hair of a startling buttery yellow.

And it was clear to Gendibal that this person was disappointed in, and even contemptuous of, the Speaker he was now meeting for the first time. What was more, he was entirely unsuccessful in hiding the fact.

Gendibal did not mind such things, on the whole. Compor was not a Trantorian—nor a full Second Foundationer—and he clearly had his illusions. Even the most superficial scan of his mind showed that. Among these was the illusion that true power was necessarily related to the appearance of power. He might, of course, keep his illusions as long as they did not interfere with what Gendibal needed, but at the present moment, this particular illusion did so interfere.

What Gendibal did was the mentalic equivalent of a snap of the fingers. Compor staggered slightly under the impress of a sharp but fleeting pain. There was an impress of enforced concentration that puckered the skin of his thought and left the man with the awareness of a casual but awesome power that could be utilized if the Speaker chose.

Compor was left with a vast respect for Gendibal.

Gendibal said pleasantly, “I am merely attracting your attention, Compor, my friend. Please let me know the present whereabouts of your friend, Golan Trevize, and his friend, Janov Pelorat.”

Compor said hesitantly, “Shall I speak in the presence of the woman, Speaker?”

“The woman, Compor, is an extension of myself. There is no reason, therefore, why you should not speak openly.”

“As you say, Speaker. Trevize and Pelorat are now approaching a planet known as Gaia.”

“So you said in your last communication the other day. Surely they have already landed on Gaia and perhaps left again. They did not stay long on Sayshell Planet.”

“They had not yet landed during the time I followed them, Speaker. They are approaching the planet with great caution, pausing substantial periods between micro-Jumps. It is clear to me they have no information about the planet they are approaching and therefore hesitate.”

“Do you have information, Compor?”

“I have none, Speaker,” said Compor, “or at least my ship’s computer has none.”

“This computer?” Gendibal’s eyes fell upon the control panel and he asked in sudden hope, “Can it aid usefully in running the ship?”

“It can run the ship completely, Speaker. One need merely think into it.”

Gendibal felt suddenly uneasy. “The Foundation has gone that far?”

“Yes, but clumsily. The computer does not work well. I must repeat my thoughts several times and even then I get but minimal information.”

Gendibal said, “It may be able to do better than that.”

“I am sure of it, Speaker,” said Compor respectfully.

“But never mind that for the moment. Why does it have no information on Gaia?”

“I do not know, Speaker. It claims to have—as far as a computer may be said to be able to claim —records on every human-inhabited planet in the Galaxy.”

“It cannot have more information than has been fed into it and if those who did the feeding thought they had records of all such planets when, in actual fact, they did not, then the computer would labor under the same misapprehension. Correct?”

“Certainly, Speaker.”

“Did you inquire at Sayshell?”

“Speaker,” said Compor uneasily, “there are people who speak of Gaia on Sayshell, but what they say is valueless. Clearly superstition. The tale they tell is that Gaia is a powerful world that held off even the Mule.”

“Is that what they say, indeed?” said Gendibal, suppressing excitement. “Were you so sure that this was superstition that you asked for no details?”

“No, Speaker. I asked a great deal, but what I have just told you is all that anyone can say. They can speak on the subject at great length, but when they have done so, all that it boils down to is what I have just said.”

“Apparently,” said Gendibal, “that is what Trevize had heard, too, and he goes to Gaia for some reason connected with that—to tap this great power, perhaps. And he does so cautiously, for perhaps he also fears this great power.”

“That is certainly possible, Speaker.”

“And yet you did not follow?”

“I did follow, Speaker, long enough to make sure he was indeed making for Gaia. I then returned here to the outskirts of the Gaian system.”

“Why?”

“Three reasons, Speaker. First, you were about to arrive and I wanted to meet you at least partway and bring you aboard at the earliest moment, as you had directed. Since my ship has a hyper-relay on board, I could not move too far away from Trevize and Pelorat without rousing suspicion on Terminus, but I judged I could risk moving this far. Second, when it was clear that Trevize was approaching Gaia Planet very slowly, I judged there would be time enough for me to move toward you and hasten our meeting without being overtaken by events, especially since you would be more competent than I to follow him to the planet itself and to handle any emergency that might arise.”

“Quite true. And the third reason?”

“Since our last communication, Speaker, something has happened that I did not expect and do not understand. I felt that—for that reason, too—I had better hasten our meeting as soon as I dared.”

“And this event that you did not expect and do not understand?”

“Ships of the Foundation fleet are approaching the Sayshellian frontier. My computer has picked up this information from Sayshellian news broadcasts. At least five advanced ships are in the flotilla and these have enough power to overwhelm Sayshell.”

Gendibal did not answer at once, for it would not do to show that he had not expected such a move—or that he didn’t understand it. So, after a moment, he said negligently, “Do you suppose that this has something to do with Trevize’s movement toward Gaia?”

“It certainly came immediately afterward—and if B follows A, then there is at least a possibility that A caused B,” said Compor.

“Well, then, it seems we all converge upon Gaia— Trevize, and I, and the First Foundation. —Come, you acted well, Compor,” said Gendibal, “and here is what we will now do. First, you will show me how this computer works and, through that, how the ship may be handled. I am sure that will not take long.

“After that, you will get into my ship, since by then I will have impressed on your mind how to handle it. You will have no trouble maneuvering it, although I must tell you (as you have no doubt guessed from its appearance) that you will find it primitive indeed. Once you are in control of the ship, you will keep it here and wait for me.”

“How long, Speaker?”

“Until I come for you. I do not expect to be gone long enough for you to be in danger of running out of supplies, but if I am unduly delayed, you may find your way to some inhabited planet of the Sayshell Union and wait there. Wherever you are, I will find you.”