Isaac Asimov - Prelude to Foundation

The man who faced them, wearing a double sash that was perhaps his right as High Elder, said, “And you are Tribesman Seldon.”

“Of course,” said Seldon.

“And this, despite her masculine dress, is Tribeswoman Venabili.”

Dors said nothing.

Sunmaster Fourteen said, “You are right, of course, tribesman. You are in no danger of physical harm from me. Please sit down. Both of you. Since you are not a Sister, tribeswoman, you need not retire. There is a seat for you which, if you value such a distinction, you will be the first woman ever to have used.”

“I do not value such a distinction,” said Dors, spacing her words for emphasis.

Sunmaster Fourteen nodded. “That is as you wish. I too will sit down, for I must ask you questions and I do not care to do it standing.”

They were sitting now in a corner of the room. Seldon’s eyes wandered to the metal robot.

Sunmaster Fourteen said, “It is a robot.”

“I know,” said Seldon briefly.

“I know you do,” said Sunmaster Fourteen with similar curtness. “But now that we have settled that matter, why are you here?”

Seldon gazed steadily at Sunmaster Fourteen and said, “To see the robot.”

“Do you know that no one but an Elder is allowed in the aerie?”

“I did not know that, but I suspected it.”

“Do you know that no tribesperson is allowed in the Sacratorium?”

“I was told that.”

“And you ignored the fact, is that it?”

“As I said, we wanted to see the robot.”

“Do you know that no woman, even a Sister, is allowed in the Sacratorium except at certain stated—and rare—occasions?”

“I was told that.”

“And do you know that no woman is at any time—or for any reason—allowed to dress in masculine garb? That holds, within the borders of Mycogen, for tribeswomen as well as for Sisters.”

“I was not told that, but I am not surprised.”

“Good. I want you to understand all this. Now, why did you want to see the robot?”

Seldon said with a shrug, “Curiosity. I had never seen a robot or even known that such a thing existed.”

“And how did you come to know that it did exist and, specifically, that it existed here?”

Seldon was silent, then said, “I do not wish to answer that question.”

“Is that why you were brought to Mycogen by Tribesman Hummin? To investigate robots?”

“No. Tribesman Hummin brought us here that we might be secure. However, we are scholars, Dr. Venabili and I. Knowledge is our province and to gain knowledge is our purpose. Mycogen is little understood outside its borders and we wish to know more about your ways and your methods of thought. It is a natural desire and, it seems to us, a harmless—even praiseworthy—one.”

“Ah, but we do not wish the outer tribes and worlds to know about us. That is our natural desire and we are the judge of what is harmless to us and what harmful. So I ask you again, tribesman: How did you know that a robot existed in Mycogen and that it existed in this room?”

“General rumor,” said Seldon at length.

“Do you insist on that?”

“General rumor. I insist on it.”

Sunmaster Fourteen’s keen blue eyes seemed to sharpen and he said without raising his voice, “Tribesman Seldon, we have long cooperated with Tribesman Hummin. For a tribesman, he has seemed a decent and trustworthy individual. For a tribesman ! When he brought you two to us and commended you to our protection, we granted it. But Tribesman Hummin, whatever his virtues, is still a tribesman and we had misgivings. We were not at all sure what your—or his—real purpose might be.”

“Our purpose was knowledge,” said Seldon. “Academic knowledge. Tribeswoman Venabili is a historian and I too have an interest in history. Why should we not be interested in Mycogenian history?”

“For one thing, because we do not wish you to be. —In any case, two of our trusted Sisters were sent to you. They were to cooperate with you, try to find out what it was you wanted, and—what is the expression you tribesmen use?—play along with you. Yet not in such a way that you would be too aware as to what was happening.” Sunmaster Fourteen smiled, but it was a grim smile.

“Raindrop Forty-Five,” Sunmaster Fourteen went on, “went shopping with Tribeswoman Venabili, but there seemed nothing out of the way in what happened on those trips. Naturally, we had a full report. Raindrop Forty-Three showed you, Tribesman Seldon, our microfarms. You might have been suspicious of her willingness to accompany you alone, something that is utterly out of the question for us, but you reasoned that what applied to Brothers did not apply to tribesmen and you flattered yourself that that flimsy bit of reasoning won her over. She complied with your desire, though at considerable cost to her peace of mind. And, eventually, you asked for the Book. To have handed it over too easily might have roused your suspicion, so she pretended to a perverse desire only you could satisfy. Her self-sacrifice will not be forgotten. —I take it, tribesman, you still have the Book and I suspect you have it with you now. May I have it?”

Seldon sat in bitter silence.

Sunmaster Fourteen’s wrinkled hand remained obtrusively outstretched and he said, “How much better it would be than to wrest it from you by force.”

And Seldon handed it over. Sunmaster Fourteen leafed through its pages briefly, as though to reassure himself it was unharmed.

He said with a small sigh, “It will have to be carefully destroyed in the approved manner. Sad! —But once you had this Book, we were, of course, not surprised when you made your way out to the Sacratorium. You were watched at all times, for you cannot think that any Brother or Sister, not totally absorbed, would not recognize you for tribespeople at a glance. We know a skincap when we see one and there are less than seventy of them in Mycogen . . . almost all belonging to tribesmen on official business who remain entirely in secular governmental buildings during the time they are here. So you were not only seen but unmistakably identified, over and over.

“The elderly Brother who met you was careful to tell you about the library as well as about the Sacratorium, but he was also careful to tell you what you were forbidden to do, for we did not wish to entrap you. Skystrip Two also warned you . . . and quite forcibly. Nevertheless, you did not turn away.

“The shop at which you bought the white kirtle and the two sashes informed us at once and from that we knew well what you intended. The library was kept empty, the librarian was warned to keep his eyes to himself, the Sacratorium was kept under-utilized. The one Brother who inadvertently spoke to you almost gave it away, but hastened off when he realized with whom he was dealing. And then you came up here.

“You see, then, that it was your intention to come up here and that we in no way lured you here. You came as a result of your own action, your own desire, and what I want to ask you—yet once again—is: Why?”

It was Dors who answered this time, her voice firm, her eyes hard. “We will tell you yet once again, Mycogenian. We are scholars, who consider knowledge sacred and it is only knowledge that we seek. You did not lure us here, but you did not stop us either, as you might have done before ever we approached this building. You smoothed our way and made it easy for us and even that might be considered a lure. And what harm have we done? We have in no way disturbed the building, or this room, or you, or that .”

She pointed to the robot. “It is a dead lump of metal that you hide here and we now know that it is dead and that is all the knowledge we sought. We thought it would be more significant and we are disappointed, but now that we know it is merely what it is, we will leave—and, if you wish, we will leave Mycogen as well.”