"What's that?"
"You are to find out whether what you and I think is so is indeed so. You are to find out if the Second Foundation still exists and, if so, where. That means you will have to leave Terminus and go I know not where-even though it may in the end turn out, as in Arkady's day, that the Second Foundation exists among us. It means you will not return till you have something to tell us; and if you have nothing to tell us, you will never return, and the population of Terminus will be less one fool."
Trevize found himself stammering. "How on Terminus can I look for them without giving away the fact? They will simply arrange a death for me, and you will be none the wiser."
"Then don't look for them, you naive child. Look for something else. Look for something else with all your heart and mind, and if, in the process, you come across them because they have not bothered to pay you any attention, then good. You may, in that case, send us the information by shielded and coded hyperwave, and you may then return as a reward."
"I suppose you have something in mind that I should look for."
"Of course I do. Do you know Janov Pelorat?"
"Never heard of him."
"You will meet him tomorrow. He will tell you what you are looking for and he will leave with you in one of our most advanced ships. There will be just the two of you, for two are quite enough to risk. And if you ever try to return without satisfying us that you have the knowledge we want, then you will be blown out of space before you come within a parsec of Terminus. That's all. This conversation is over."
She arose, looked at her bare hands, then slowly drew on her gloves. She turned toward the door, and through it came two guards, weapons in hand. They stepped apart to let her pass.
At the doorway she turned. "There are other guards outside. Do nothing that disturbs them or you will save us all the trouble of your existence."
"You will also then lose the benefits I might bring you," said Trevize and, with an effort, lie managed to say it lightly.
"We'll chance that," said Branno with an unamused smile.
Outside Liono Kodell was waiting for her. He said, "I listened to the whole thing, Mayor. You were extraordinarily patient."
"And I am extraordinarily tired. I think the day has been seventy-two hours long. You take over now."
"I will, but tell me-Was there really a Mental Static Device about the house?"
"Oh, Kodell," said Branno wearily. "You know better than that. What was the chance anyone was watching? Do you imagine the Second Foundation is watching everything, everywhere, always? I'm not the romantic young Trevize is; he might think that, but I don't. And even if that were the case, if Second Foundation eyes and ears were everywhere, would not the presence of an MSD have given us away at once? For that matter, would not its use have shown the Second Foundation a shield against its powers existed-once they detected a region that was mentally opaque? Isn't the secret of such a shield's existence-until we are quite ready to use it to the full-something worth not only more than Trevize, but more than you and I together? And yet-"
They were in the ground-car, with Kodell driving. "And yet-" said Kodell.
"And yet what?" said Branno. "-Oh yes. And yet that young man is intelligent. I called him a fool in various ways half a dozen times just to keep him in his place, but he isn't one. He's young and he's read too many of Arkady Darell's novels, and they have made him think that that's the way the Galaxy is-but he has a quick insight about him and it will be a pity to lose him."
"You are sure then that he will be lost?"
"Quite sure," said Branno sadly. "Just the same, it is better that way. We don't need young romantics charging about blindly and smashing in an instant, perhaps, what it has taken us years to build. Besides, he will serve a purpose. He will surely attract the attention of the Second Foundationers-always assuming they exist and are indeed concerning themselves with us. And while they are attracted to him, they will, perchance, ignore us. Perhaps we can gain even more than the good fortune of being ignored. They may, we can hope, unwittingly give themselves away to us in their concern with Trevize, and let us have an opportunity and time to devise countermeasures."
"Trevize, then, draws the lightning."
Branno's lips twitched. "Ah, the metaphor I've been looking for. He is our lightning rod, absorbing the stroke and protecting us from harm."
"And this Pelorat, who will also be in the path of the lightning bolt?"
"He may suffer, too. That can't be helped."
Kodell nodded. "Well, you know what Salvor Hardin used to say-`Never let your sense of morals keep you from doing what is right.'"
"At the moment, I haven't got a sense of morals," muttered Branno. "I have a sense of bone-weariness. And yet-I could name a number of people I would sooner lose than Golan Trevize. He is a handsome young man. And, of course, he knows it." Her tact words slurred as she closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep.
Chapter Three
Janov Pelorat was white-haired and his face, in repose, looked rather empty. It was rarely in anything but repose. He was of average height and weight and tended to move without haste and to speak with deliberation. He seemed considerably older than his fifty-two years.
He had never left Terminus, something that was most unusual, especially for one of his profession. He himself wasn't sure whether his sedentary ways were because of-or in spite of-his obsession with history.
The obsession had come upon him quite suddenly at the age of fifteen when, during some indisposition, he was given a book of early legends. In it, he found the repeated motif of a world that was alone and isolated-a world that was not even aware of its isolation, since it had never known anything else.
His indisposition began to clear up at once. Within two days, he had read the book three times and was out of bed. The day after that he was at his computer terminal, checking for any records that the Terminus University Library might have on similar legends.
It was precisely such legends that had occupied him ever since. The Terminus University Library had by no means been a great resource in this respect but, when he grew older, he discovered the joys of interlibrary loans. He had printouts in his possession which had been taken off hyper-radiational signals from as far away as Ifnia.
He had become a professor of ancient history and was now beginning his first sabbatical-one for which he had applied with the idea of taking a trip through space (his first) to Trantor itself-thirty-seven years later.
Pelorat was quite aware that it was most unusual for a person of Terminus to have never been in space. It had never been his intention to be notable in this particular way. It was just that whenever he might have gone into space, some new book, some new study, some new analysis came his way. He would delay his projected trip until he had wrung the new matter dry and had added, if possible, one more item of fact, or speculation, or imagination to the mountain he had collected. In the end, his only regret was that the particular trip to Trantor had never been made.
Trantor had been the capital of the First Galactic Empire. It had been the seat of Emperors for twelve thousand years and, before that, the capital of one of the most important pre-Imperial kingdoms, which had, little by little, captured or otherwise absorbed the other kingdoms to establish the Empire.