1983-Foundation's Edge by Isaac Asimov

Author:Isaac Asimov [Asimov, Isaac]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780553293388
Google: ooi85kj20vkC
Amazon: 0553293389
Publisher: Spectra
Published: 1991-10-02T04:00:00+00:00

“Did the radiation have anything to do with it?”

“Don’t know. There were tales of some mind-expander developed on Earth—a Synapsifier or something.”

“Did it create superminds?” said Pelorat in deepest tones of incredulity.

“I don’t think so. What I chiefly remember is that it didn’t work. People became bright and died young.”

Trevize said, “It was probably a morality myth. If you ask for too much, you lose even that which you have.”

Pelorat turned on Trevize in annoyance. “What do you know of morality myths?”

Trevize raised his eyebrows. “Your field may not be my field, Janov, but that doesn’t mean I’m totally ignorant.”

“What else do you remember about what you call the Synapsifier, Councilman Compor?” asked Pelorat.

“Nothing, and I won’t submit to any further cross-examination. Look, I followed you on orders from the Mayor. I was not ordered to make personal contact with you. I have done so only to warn you that you were followed and to tell you that you had been sent out to serve the Mayor’s purposes, whatever those might be. There was nothing else I should have discussed with you, but you surprised me by suddenly bringing up the matter of Earth. Well, let me repeat:

Whatever there has existed there in the past—Bel Arvardan, the Synapsifier, whatever—that has nothing to do with what exists now. I’ll tell you again: Earth is a dead world. I strongly advise you to go to Comporellon, where you’ll find out everything you want to know. Just get away from here.”

“And, of course, you will dutifully tell the Mayor that we’re going to Comporellon—and you’ll follow us to make sure. Or maybe the Mayor knows already. I imagine she has carefully instructed and rehearsed you in every word you have spoken to us here because, for her own purposes, it’s in Comporellon that she wants us. Right?”

Compor’s face paled. He rose to his feet and almost stuttered in

his effort to control his voice. “I’ve tried to explain. I’ve tried to be helpful. I shouldn’t have tried. You can drop yourself into a black hole, Trevize.”

He turned on his heel and walked away briskly without looking back.

Pelorat seemed a bit stunned. “That was rather tactless of you, Golan, old fellow. I could have gotten more out of him.”

“No, you couldn’t,” said Trevize gravely. “You could not have gotten one thing out of him that he was not ready to let you have. Janov, you don’t know what he is —Until today, I didn’t know what he is.”

Pelorat hesitated to disturb Trevize. Trevize sat motionless in his chair, deep in thought.

Finally Pelorat said, “Are we just sitting here all night, Golan?”

Trevize started. “No, you’re quite right. We’ll be better off with people around us. Come!”

Pelorat rose. He said, “There won’t be people around us. Compor said this was some sort of meditation day.”

“Is that what he said? Was there traffic when we came along the road in our ground-car?”

“Yes, some.”

“Quite a bit, I thought. And then, when we entered the city, was it empty?”

“Not particularly. —Still, you’ve got to admit that this place has been empty.

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