“What has this to do with yesterday, S.Q.?” asked Trevize.
“We have legends. A legend. An important one to our society, for it has become our central mystery—”
“Mystery?” said Trevize.
“I don’t mean a puzzle or anything of that sort. That, I believe, would be the usual meaning of the word in Galactic Standard. There’s a specialized meaning here. It means ‘something secret’; something only certain adepts know the full meaning of; something not to be spoken of to outsiders. —And yesterday was the day.”
“The day of what, S.Q.?” asked Trevize, slightly exaggerating his air of patience.
“Yesterday was the Day of Flight.”
“Ah,” said Trevize, “a day of meditation and quiet, when everyone is supposed to remain at home.”
“Something like that, in theory, except that in the larger cities, the more sophisticated regions, there is little observance in the older fashion. —But you know about it, I see.”
Pelorat, who had grown uneasy at Trevize’s annoyed tone, put in hastily, “We heard a little of it, having arrived yesterday.”
“Of all days,” said Trevize sarcastically. “See here, S.Q. As I said, I’m not an academic, but I have a question. You said you were speaking of a central mystery, meaning it was not to be spoken of to outsiders. Why, then, are you speaking of it to us? We are outsiders.”
“So you are. But I’m not an observer of the day and the depth of my superstition in this matter is slight at best. J.P.’s paper, however, reinforced a feeling I have had for a long time. A myth or legend is simply not made up out of a vacuum. Nothing is—or can be. Somehow there is a kernel of truth behind it, however distorted that might be, and I would like the truth behind our legend of the Day of Flight.”
Trevize said, “Is it safe to talk about it?”
Quintesetz shrugged. “Not entirely, I suppose. The conservative elements among our population would be horrified. However, they don’t control the government and haven’t for a century. The secularists are strong and would be stronger still, if the conservatives didn’t take advantage of our—if you’ll excuse me—anti-Foundation bias. Then, too, since I am discussing the matter out of my scholarly interest in ancient history, the League of Academicians will support me strongly, in case of need.”
“In that case,” said Pelorat, “would you tell us about your central mystery, S.Q.?”
“Yes, but let me make sure we won’t be interrupted or, for that matter, overheard. Even if one must stare the bull in the face, one needn’t slap its muzzle, as the saying goes.”
He flicked a pattern on the work-face of an instrument on his desk and said, “We’re incommunicado now.”
“Are you sure you’re not bugged?” asked Trevize.
“Bugged?”
“Tapped! Eavesdropped! —Subjected to a device that will have you under observation—visual or auditory or both.”
Quintesetz looked shocked. “Not here on Sayshell!”
Trevize shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Please go on, S.Q.,” said Pelorat.
Quintesetz pursed his lips, leaned back in his chair (which gave slightly under the pressure) and put the tips of his fingers together. He seemed to be speculating as to just how to begin.
He said, “Do you know what a robot is?”
“A robot?” said Pelorat. “No.”
Quintesetz looked in the direction of Trevize, who shook his head slowly.
“You know what a computer is, however?”
“Of course,” said Trevize impatiently.
“Well then, a mobile computerized tool—”
“Is a mobile computerized tool.” Trevize was still impatient. “There are endless varieties and I don’t know of any generalized term for it except mobile computerized tool.”
“—that looks exactly like a human being is a robot.” S.Q. completed his definition with equanimity. “The distinction of a robot is that it is humaniform.”
“Why humaniform?” asked Pelorat in honest amazement.
“I’m not sure. It’s a remarkably inefficient form for a tool, I grant you, but I’m just repeating the legend. ‘Robot’ is an old word from no recognizable language, though our scholars say it bears the connotation of ‘work.’ ”
“I can’t think of any word,” said Trevize skeptically, “that sounds even vaguely like ‘robot’ and that has any connection with ‘work.’ ”
“Nothing in Galactic, certainly,” said Quintesetz, “but that’s what they say.”
Pelorat said, “It may have been reverse etymology. These objects were used for work, and so the word was said to mean ‘work.’ —In any case, why do you tell us this?”
“Because it is a firmly fixed tradition here on Sayshell that when Earth was a single world and the Galaxy lay all uninhabited before it, robots were invented and devised. There were then two sorts of human beings: natural and invented, flesh and metal, biological and mechanical, complex and simple—”
Quintesetz came to a halt and said with a rueful laugh, “I’m sorry. It is impossible to talk about robots without quoting from the Book of Flight. The people of Earth devised robots—and I need say no more. That’s plain enough.”
“And why did they devise robots?” asked Trevize.
Quintesetz shrugged. “Who can tell at this distance in time? Perhaps they were few in numbers and needed help, particularly in the great task of exploring and populating the Galaxy.”
Trevize said, “That’s a reasonable suggestion. Once the Galaxy was colonized, the robots would no longer be needed. Certainly there are no humanoid mobile computerized tools in the Galaxy today.”
“In any case,” said Quintesetz, “the story is as follows—if I may vastly simplify and leave out many poetic ornamentations which, frankly, I don’t accept, though the general population does or pretends to. Around Earth, there grew up colony worlds circling neighboring stars and these colony worlds were far richer in robots than was Earth itself. There was more use for robots on raw, new worlds. Earth, in fact, retreated, wished no more robots, and rebelled against them.”
“What happened?” asked Pelorat.
“The Outer Worlds were the stronger. With the help of their robots, the children defeated and controlled Earth—the Mother. Pardon me, but I can’t help slipping into quotation. But there were those from Earth who fled their world—with better ships and stronger modes of hyperspatial travel. They fled to far distant stars and worlds, far beyond the closer worlds earlier colonized. New colonies were founded—without robots—in which human beings could live freely. Those were the Times of Flight, so-called, and the day upon which the first Earthmen reached the Sayshell Sector—this very planet, in fact—is the Day of Flight, celebrated annually for many thousands of years.”
Pelorat said, “My dear chap, what you are saying, then, is that Sayshell was founded directly from Earth.”
Quintesetz thought and hesitated for a moment. Then he said, “That is the official belief.”
“Obviously,” said Trevize, “you don’t accept it.”
“It seems to me—” Quintesetz began and then burst out, “Oh, Great Stars and Small Planets, I don’t! It is entirely too unlikely, but it’s official dogma and however secularized the government has become, lip service to that, at least, is essential. —Still, to the point. In your article, J.P., there is no indication that you’re aware of this story—of robots and of two waves of colonization, a lesser one with robots and a greater one without.”