“I do,” she said grimly. “I, too, have studied the history of Sayshell and have seen that Gaia cannot be the Second Foundation, but, as I told you, I have the full report of the scouts and from that…”

“Yes?”

“Well, I know where the Second Foundation is located and we will take care of both, Liono. We will take care of Gaia first and then Trantor.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

GAIA

It took hours for the ship from the space station to reach the vicinity of the Far Star—very long hours for Trevize to endure.

Had the situation been normal, Trevize would have tried to signal and would have expected a response. If there had been no response, he would have taken evasive action.

Since he was unarmed and there had been no response, there was nothing to do but wait. The computer would not respond to any direction he could give it that involved anything outside the ship.

Internally, at least, everything worked well. The life-support systems were in perfect order, so that he and Pelorat were physically comfortable. Somehow, that didn't help. Life dragged on and the uncertainty of what was to come was wearing him down. He noticed with irritation that Pelorat seemed calm. As though to make it worse, while Trevize felt no sense of hunger at all, Pelorat opened a small container of chicken-bits, which on opening had rapidly and automatically warmed itself. Now he was eating it methodically.

Trevize said irritably, “Space, Janov! That stinks!”

Pelorat looked startled and sniffed at the container. “It smells all right to me, Golan.”

Trevize shook his head. “Don't mind me. I'm just upset. But do use a fork. Your fingers will smell of chicken all day.”

Pelorat looked at his fingers with surprise. “Sorry! I didn't notice. I was thinking of something else.”

Trevize said sarcastically, “Would you care to guess at what type of nonhumans the creatures on the approaching ship must be?” He was ashamed that he was less calm than Pelorat was. He was a Navy veteran (though he had never seen battle, of course) and Pelorat was a historian. Yet his companion sat there quietly.

Pelorat said, “It would be impossible to imagine what direction evolution would take under conditions differing from those of Earth. The possibilities may not be infinite, but they would be so vast that they might as well be. However, I can predict that they are not senselessly violent and they will treat us in a civilized fashion. If that wasn't true, we would be dead by now.”

“At least you can still reason, Janov, my friend—you can still be tranquil. My nerves seem to be forcing their way through whatever tranquilization they have put us under. I have an extraordinary desire to stand up and pace. Why doesn't that blasted ship arrive?”

Pelorat said, “I am a man of passivity, Golan. I have spent my life doubled over records while waiting for other records to arrive. I do nothing but wait. You are a man of action and you are in deep pain when action is impossible.”

Trevize felt some of his tension leave. He muttered, “I underestimate your good sense, Janov.”

“No, you don't,” said Pelorat placidly, “but even a naive academic can sometimes make sense out of life.”

“And even the cleverest politician can sometimes fail to do so.”

“I didn't say that, Golan.”—

“No, but I did.—So let me become active. I can still observe. The approaching ship is close enough to seem distinctly primitive.”

“Seem?”

Trevize said, “If it's the product of nonhuman minds and hands, what may seem primitive may, in actual fact, be merely nonhuman.”

“Do you think it might be a nonhuman artifact?” asked Pelorat, his face reddening slightly.

“I can't tell. I suspect that artifacts, however much they may vary from culture to culture, are never quite as plastic as products of genetic differences might be.”

“That's just a guess on your part. All we know are different cultures. We don't know different intelligent species and therefore have no way of judging how different artifacts might be.”

“Fish, dolphins, penguins, squids, even the ambiflexes, which are not of Earthly origin—assuming the others are—all solve the problem of motion through a viscous medium by streamlining, so that their appearances are not as different as their genetic makeup might lead one to believe. It might be so with artifacts.”

“The squid's tentacles and the ambiflex's helical vibrators,” responded Pelorat, “are enormously different from each other, and from the fins, flippers, and limbs of vertebrates. It might be so with artifacts.”

“In any case,” said Trevize, “I feel better. Talking nonsense with you, Janov, quiets my nerves. And I suspect we'll know what we're getting into soon, too. The ship is not going to be able to dock with ours and whatever is on it will come across on an old-fashioned tether—or we will somehow be urged to cross to it on one—since the unilock will be useless.—Unless some nonhuman will use some other system altogether.”

“How big is the ship?”

“Without being able to use the ship's computer to calculate the distance of the ship by radar, we can't possibly know the size.”

A tether snaked out toward the Far Star.

Trevize said, “Either there's a human aboard or nonhumans use the same device. Perhaps nothing but a tether can possibly work.”

“They might use a tube,” said Pelorat, “or a horizontal ladder.”

“Those are inflexible things. It would be far too complicated to try to make contact with those. You need something that combines strength and flexibility.”

The tether made a dull clang on the Far Star as the solid hull (and consequently the air within) was set to vibrating. There was the usual slithering as the other ship made the fine adjustments of speed required to bring the two into a common velocity. The tether was motionless relative to both.

A black dot appeared on the hull of the other ship and expanded like the pupil of an eye.

Trevize grunted. “An expanding diaphragm, instead of a sliding panel.”

“Nonhuman?”

“Not necessarily, I suppose. But interesting.”

A figure emerged.

Pelorat's lips tightened for a moment and then he said in a disappointed voice, “Too bad. Human.”

“Not necessarily,” said Trevize calmly. “All we can make out is that there seem to be five projections. That could be a head, two arms, and two legs—but it might not be.—Wait!”

“What?”

“It moves more rapidly and smoothly than I expected.—Ah!”

“What?”

“There's some sort of propulsion. It's not rocketry, as nearly as I can tell, but neither is it hand over hand. Still, not necessarily human.”

There seemed an incredibly long wait despite the quick approach of the figure along the tether, but there was finally the noise of contact.

Trevize said, “It's coming in, whatever it is. My impulse is to tackle it the minute it appears.” He balled a fist.

“I think we had better relax,” said Pelorat. “It may be stronger than we. It can control our minds. There are surely others on the ship. We had better wait till we know more about what we are facing.”

“You grow more and more sensible by the minute, Janov,” said Trevize, “and I, less and less.”

They could hear the airlock moving into action and finally the figure appeared inside the ship.

“About normal size,” muttered Pelorat. “The space suit could fit a human being.”

“I never saw or heard of such a design, but it doesn't fall outside the limits of human manufacture, it seems to me.—It doesn't say anything.”

The space-suited figure stood before them and a forelimb rose to the rounded helmet, which—if it were made of glass—possessed oneway transparency only. Nothing could be seen inside.

The limb touched something with a quick motion that Trevize did not clearly make out and the helmet was at once detached from the rest of the suit. It lifted off.