by Isaac Asimov
“Close the door,” she gasped.
“What is it?” asked Bliss.
Hiroko clutched at Trevize. “I could not stay away. I tried, but I endured it not. Go thou, and all of you. Take the youngster with you quickly. Take the ship away—away from Alpha—while it is yet dark.”
“But why?” asked Trevize.
“Because else wilt thou die; and all of you.”
84.
The three Outworlders stared frozenly at Hiroko for a long moment. Then Trevize said, “Are you saying your people will kill us?”
Hiroko said, as the tears rolled down her cheeks, “Thou art already on the road to death, respected Trevize. And the others with you. —Long ago, those of learning devised a virus, harmless to us, but deadly to Outworlders. We have been made immune.” She shook Trevize’s arm in distraction. “Thou art infected.”
“How?”
“When we had our pleasure. It is one way.”
Trevize said, “But I feel entirely well.”
“The virus is as yet inactive. It will be made active when the fishing fleet returns. By our laws, all must decide on such a thing—even the men. All will surely decide it must be done, and we keep you here till that time, two mornings hence. Leave now while it is yet dark and none suspects.”
Bliss said sharply, “Why do your people do this?”
“For our safety. We are few and have much. We do not wish Outworlders to intrude. If one cometh and then reporteth our lot, others will come, and so when, once in a long while, a ship arriveth, we must make certain it leaveth not.”
“But then,” said Trevize, “why do you warn us away?”
“Ask not the reason. —Nay, but I will tell you, since I hear it again. Listen—”
From the next room, they could hear Fallom playing softly—and infinitely sweetly.
Hiroko said, “I cannot bear the destruction of that music, for the young one will also die.”
Trevize said sternly, “Is that why you gave the flute to Fallom? Because you knew you would have it once again when she was dead?”
Hiroko looked horrified. “Nay, that was not in my mind. And when it came to mind at length, I knew it must not be done. Leave with the child, and with her, take the flute that I may never see it more. Thou wilt be safe back in space and, left inactive, the virus now in thy body will die after a time. In return, I ask that none of you ever speak of this world, that none else may know of it.”
“We will not speak of it,” said Trevize.
Hiroko looked up. In a lower voice, she said, “May I not kiss thee once ere thou leavest?”
Trevize said, “No. I have been infected once and surely that is enough.” And then, a little less roughly, he added, “Don’t cry. People will ask why you are crying and you’ll be unable to reply. —I’ll forgive what you did to me in view of your present effort to save us.”
Hiroko straightened, carefully wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands, took a deep breath, and said, “I thank thee for that,” and left quickly.
Trevize said, “We will put out the light, and we will wait awhile, and then we will leave. —Bliss, tell Fallom to stop playing her instrument. Remember to take the flute, of course. —Then we will make our way to the ship, if we can find it in the dark.”
“I will find it,” said Bliss. “Clothing of mine is on board and, however dimly, that, too, is Gaia. Gaia will have no trouble finding Gaia.” And she vanished into her room to collect Fallom.
Pelorat said, “Do you suppose that they’ve managed to damage our ship in order to keep us on the planet?”
“They lack the technology to do it,” said Trevize grimly. When Bliss emerged, holding Fallom by the hand, Trevize put out the lights.
They sat quietly in the dark for what seemed half the night, and might have been half an hour. Then Trevize slowly and silently opened the door. The sky seemed a bit more cloudy, but stars shone. High in the sky now was Cassiopeia, with what might be Earth’s sun burning brightly at its lower tip. The air was still and there was no sound.
Carefully, Trevize stepped out, motioning the others to follow. One of his hands dropped, almost automatically, to the butt of his neuronic whip. He was sure he would not have to use it, but—
Bliss took the lead, holding Pelorat’s hand, who held Trevize’s. Bliss’s other hand held Fallom, and Fallom’s other hand held the flute. Feeling gently with her feet in the nearly total darkness, Bliss guided the others toward where she felt, very weakly, the Gaianess of her clothing on board the Far Star.
PART VII
EARTH
19
RADIOACTIVE?
85.
The Far Star took off quietly, rising slowly through the atmosphere, leaving the dark island below. The few faint dots of light beneath them dimmed and vanished, and as the atmosphere grew thinner with height, the ship’s speed grew greater, and the dots of light in the sky above them grew more numerous and brighter.
Eventually, they looked down upon the planet, Alpha, with only a crescent illuminated and that crescent largely wreathed in clouds.
Pelorat said, “I suppose they don’t have an active space technology. They can’t follow us.”
“I’m not sure that that cheers me up much,” said Trevize, his face dour, his voice disheartened. “I’m infected.”
“But with an inactive strain,” said Bliss.
“Still, it can be made active. They had a method. What is the method?”
Bliss shrugged. “Hiroko said the virus, left inactive, would eventually die in a body unadapted to it—as yours is.”
“Yes?” said Trevize angrily. “How does she know that? For that matter, how do I know that Hiroko’s statement wasn’t a self-consoling lie? And isn’t it possible that the method of activation, whatever it is, might not be duplicated naturally? A particular chemical, a type of radiation, a—a—who knows what? I may sicken suddenly, and then the three of you would die, too. Or if it happens after we have reached a populated world, there may be a vicious pandemic which fleeing refugees would carry to other worlds.”
He looked at Bliss. “Is there something you can do about it?”
Slowly, Bliss shook her head. “Not easily. There are parasites making up Gaia—microorganisms, worms. They are a benign part of the ecological balance. They live and contribute to the world consciousness, but never over-grow. They live without doing noticeable harm. The trouble is, Trevize, the virus that affects you is not part of Gaia.”
“You say ‘not easily,’ ” said Trevize, frowning. “Under the circumstances, can you take the trouble to do it even though it might be difficult? Can you locate the virus in me and destroy it? Can you, failing that, at least strengthen my defenses?”
“Do you realize what you ask, Trevize? I am not acquainted with the microscopic flora of your body. I might not easily tell a virus in the cells of your body from the normal genes inhabiting them. It would be even more difficult to distinguish between viruses your body is accustomed to and those with which Hiroko infected you. I will try to do it, Trevize, but it will take time and I may not succeed.”
“Take time,” said Trevize. “Try.”
“Certainly,” said Bliss.
Pelorat said, “If Hiroko told the truth, Bliss, you might be able to find viruses that seem to be already diminishing in vitality, and you could accelerate their decline.”
“I could do that,” said Bliss. “It is a good thought.”
“You won’t weaken?” said Trevize. “You will have to destroy precious bits of life when you kill those viruses, you know.”
“You are being sardonic, Trevize,” said Bliss coolly, “but, sardonic or not, you are pointing out a true difficulty. Still, I can scarcely fail to put you ahead of the virus. I will kill them if I have the chance, never fear. After all, even if I fail to consider you”—and her mouth twitched as though she were repressing a smile—“then certainly Pelorat and Fallom are also at risk, and you might feel more confidence in my feeling
for them than in my feeling for you. You might even remember that I myself am at risk.”
“I have no faith in your self-love,” muttered Trevize. “You’re perfectly ready to give up your life for some high motive. I’ll accept your concern for Pelorat, however.” Then, he said, “I don’t hear Fallom’s flute. Is anything wrong with her?”
“No,” said Bliss. “She’s asleep. A perfectly natural sleep that I had nothing to do with. And I would suggest that, after you work out the Jump to the star we think is Earth’s sun, we all do likewise. I need it badly and I suspect you do, too, Trevize.”
“Yes, if I can manage. —You were right, you know, Bliss.”
“About what, Trevize?”
“About Isolates. New Earth was not a paradise, however much it might have seemed like one. That hospitality—all that outgoing friendliness at first—was to put us off our guard, so that one of us might be easily infected. And all the hospitality afterward, the festivals of this and that, were designed to keep us there till the fishing fleet returned and the activation could be carried through. And it would have worked but for Fallom and her music. It might be you were right there, too.”
“About Fallom?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to take her along, and I’ve never been happy with her being on the ship. It was your doing, Bliss, that we have her here and it was she who, unwittingly, saved us. And yet—”
“And yet what?”
“Despite that, I’m still uneasy at Fallom’s presence. I don’t know why.”
“If it will make you feel better, Trevize, I don’t know that we can lay all the credit at Fallom’s feet. Hiroko advanced Fallom’s music as her excuse for committing what the other Alphans would surely consider to be an act of treason. She may even have believed this, but there was something in her mind in addition, something that I vaguely detected but could not surely identify, something that perhaps she was ashamed to let emerge into her conscious mind. I am under the impression that she felt a warmth for you, and would not willingly see you die, regardless of Fallom and her music.”
“Do you really think so?” said Trevize, smiling slightly for the first time since they had left Alpha.
“I think so. You must have a certain proficiency at dealing with women. You persuaded Minister Lizalor to allow us to take our ship and leave Comporellon, and you helped influence Hiroko to save our lives. Credit where it’s due.”
Trevize smiled more broadly. “Well, if you say so. —On to Earth, then.” He disappeared into the pilot-room with a step that was almost jaunty.
Pelorat, lingering behind, said, “You soothed him after all, didn’t you, Bliss?”
“No, Pelorat, I never touched his mind.”
“You certainly did when you pampered his male vanity so outrageously.”
“Entirely indirect,” said Bliss, smiling.
“Even so, thank you, Bliss.”
86.
After the jump, the star that might well be Earth’s sun was still a tenth of a parsec away. It was the brightest object in the sky by far, but it was still no more than a star.
Trevize kept its light filtered for ease of viewing, and studied it somberly.
He said, “There seems no doubt that it is the virtual twin of Alpha, the star that New Earth circles. Yet Alpha is in the computer map and this star is not. We don’t have a name for this star, we aren’t given its statistics, we lack any information concerning its planetary system, if it has one.”
Pelorat said, “Isn’t that what we would expect if Earth circles this sun? Such a blackout of information would fit with the fact that all information about Earth seems to have been eliminated.”
“Yes, but it could also mean that it’s a Spacer world that just happened not to be on the list on the wall of the Melpomenian building. We can’t be altogether sure that that list was complete. Or this star could be without planets and therefore perhaps not worth listing on a computer map which is primarily used for military and commercial purposes. —Janov, is there any legend that tells of Earth’s sun being a mere parsec or so from a twin of itself.”
Pelorat shook his head. “I’m sorry, Golan, but no such legend occurs to me. There may be one, though. My memory isn’t perfect. I’ll search for it.”
“It’s not important. Is there any name given to Earth’s sun?”
“Some different names are given. I imagine there must be a name in each of the different languages.”
“I keep forgetting that Earth had many languages.”
“It must have had. It’s the only way of making sense out of many of the legends.”
Trevize said peevishly, “Well, then, what do we do? We can’t tell anything about the planetary system from this distance, and we have to move closer. I would like to be cautious, but there’s such a thing as excessive and unreasoning caution, and I see no evidence of possible danger. Presumably anything powerful enough to wipe the Galaxy clean of information about Earth may be powerful enough to wipe us out even at this distance if they seriously did not wish to be located, but nothing’s happened. It isn’t rational to stay here forever on the mere possibility that something might happen if we move closer, is it?”
Bliss said, “I take it the computer detects nothing that might be interpreted as dangerous.”
“When I say I see no evidence of possible danger, it’s the computer I’m relying on. I certainly can’t see anything with the unaided eye. I wouldn’t expect to.”
“Then I take it you’re just looking for support in making what you consider a risky decision. All right, then. I’m with you. We haven’t come this far in order to turn back for no reason, have we?”
“No,” said Trevize. “What do you say, Pelorat?”
Pelorat said, “I’m willing to move on, if only out of curiosity. It would be unbearable to go back without knowing if we have found Earth.”
“Well, then,” said Trevize, “we’re all agreed.”
“Not all,” said Pelorat. “There’s Fallom.”
Trevize looked astonished. “Are you suggesting we consult the child? Of what value would her opinion be even if she had one? Besides, all she would want would be to get back to her own world.”
“Can you blame her for that?” asked Bliss warmly.
And because the matter of Fallom had arisen, Trevize became aware of her flute, which was sounding in a rather stirring march rhythm.
“Listen to her,” he said. “Where has she ever heard anything in march rhythm?”
“Perhaps Jemby played marches on the flute for her.”
Trevize shook his head. “I doubt it. Dance rhythms, I should think, lullabies. —Listen, Fallom makes me uneasy. She learns too quickly.”
“I help her,” said Bliss. “Remember that. And she’s very intelligent and she has been extraordinarily stimulated in the time she’s been with us. New sensations have flooded her mind. She’s seen space, different worlds, many people, all for the first time.”
Fallom’s march music grew wilder and more richly barbaric.
Trevize sighed and said, “Well, she’s here, and she’s producing music that seems to breathe optimism, and delight in adventure. I’ll take that as her vote in favor of moving in more closely. Let us do so cautiously, then, and check this sun’s planetary system.”
“If any,” said Bliss.
Trevize smiled thinly. “There’s a planetary system. It’s a bet. Choose your sum.”
87.
“You lose,” said Trevize abstractedly. “How much money did you decide to bet?”
“None. I never accepted the wager,” said Bliss.
“Just as well. I wouldn’t like to accept the money, anyway.”
They were some 10 billion kilometers from the sun. It was still star-like, but it was nearly 1/4,000 as bright as the average sun would have been when viewed from the surface of a habitable planet.
“We can see two planets under magnification, right now,” said Trevize. “From their measured diameters and from the sp
ectrum of the reflected light, they are clearly gas giants.”
The ship was well outside the planetary plane, and Bliss and Pelorat, staring over Trevize’s shoulder at the viewscreen, found themselves looking at two tiny crescents of greenish light. The smaller was in the somewhat thicker phase of the two.
Trevize said, “Janov! It is correct, isn’t it, that Earth’s sun is suppose to have four gas giants.”
“According to the legends. Yes,” said Pelorat.
“The nearest of the four to the sun is the largest, and the second nearest has rings. Right?”
“Large prominent rings, Golan. Yes. Just the same, old chap, you have to allow for exaggeration in the telling and retelling of a legend. If we should not find a planet with an extraordinary ring system, I don’t think we ought to let that count seriously against this being Earth’s star.”
“Nevertheless, the two we see may be the farthest, and the two nearer ones may well be on the other side of the sun and too far to be easily located against the background of stars. We’ll have to move still closer—and beyond the sun to the other side.”
“Can that be done in the presence of the star’s nearby mass?”
“With reasonable caution, the computer can do it, I’m sure. If it judges the danger to be too great, however, it will refuse to budge us, and we can then move in cautious, smaller steps.”
His mind directed the computer—and the starfield on the viewscreen changed. The star brightened sharply and then moved off the viewscreen as the computer, following directions, scanned the sky for another gas giant. It did so successfully.
All three onlookers stiffened and stared, while Trevize’s mind, almost helpless with astonishment, fumbled at the computer to direct further magnification.
“Incredible,” gasped Bliss.
88.
A gas giant was in view, seen at an angle that allowed most of it to be sunlit. About it, there curved a broad and brilliant ring of material, tipped so as to catch the sunlight on the side being viewed. It was brighter than the planet itself and along it, one third of the way in toward the planet, was a narrow, dividing line.