Foundation and Earth

"Ssh. Don't disturb me. Let me concentrate." The last word was a mere motion of her lips.

Then she said, in faint elated surprise, "It's not human."

"Not human," said Trevize, in much stronger surprise. "Are we dealing with robots again? As on Solaria?"

"No." Bliss was smiling. "It's not quite robotic, either."

"It has to be one or the other."

"Neither." She actually chuckled. "It's not human, and yet it's not like any robot I've detected before."

Pelorat said, "I would like to see that." He nodded his head vigorously, his eyes wide with pleasure. "It would be exciting. Something new."

"Something new," muttered Trevize with a sudden lift of his own spirits-and a flash of unexpected insight seemed to illuminate the interior of his skull.

100.

DOWN THEY sank to the moon's surface, in what was almost jubilation. Even Fallom had joined them now and, with the abandonment of a youngster, was hugging herself with unbearable joy as though she were truly returning to Solaria.

As for Trevize, he felt within himself a touch of sanity telling him that it was strange that Earth-or whatever of Earth was on the moon-which had taken such measures to keep off all others, should now be taking measures to draw them in. Could the purpose be the same in either way? Was it a case of "If you can't make them avoid you, draw them in and destroy them?" Either way, would not Earth's secret remain untouched?

But that thought faded and drowned in the flood of joy that deepened steadily as they came closer to the moon's surface. Yet over and beyond that, he managed to cling to the moment of illumination that had reached him just before they had begun their gliding dive to the surface of the Earth's satellite.

He seemed to have no doubt as to where the ship was going. They were just above the tops of the rolling hills now, and Trevize, at the computer, felt no need to do anything. It was as though he and the computer, both, were being guided, and he felt only an enormous euphoria at having the weight of responsibility taken away from him.

They were sliding parallel to the ground, toward a cliff that raised its menacing height as a barrier against them; a barrier glistening faintly in Earth-shine and in the light-beam of the Far Star. The approach of certain collision seemed to mean nothing to Trevize, and it was with no surprise whatever that he became aware that the section of cliff directly ahead had fallen away and that a corridor, gleaming in artificial light, had opened before them.

The ship slowed to a crawl, apparently of its own accord, and fitted neatly into the opening-entering-sliding along.** The opening closed behind it, and another then opened before it. Through the second opening went the ship, into a gigantic hall that seemed the hollowed interior of a mountain.

The ship halted and all aboard rushed to the airlock eagerly. It occurred to none of them, not even to Trevize, to check. whether there might be a breathable atmosphere outside-or any atmosphere at all.

There was air, however. It was breathable and it was comfortable. They looked about themselves with the pleased air of people who had somehow come home and it was only after a while that they became aware of a man who was waiting politely for them to approach.

He was tall, and his expression was grave. His hair was bronze in color, and cut short. His cheekbones were broad, his eyes were bright, and his clothing was rather after the fashion one saw in ancient history books. Although he seemed sturdy and vigorous there was, just the same, an air of weariness about him-not in anything that one could see, but rather in something appealing to no recognizable sense.

It was Fallom who reacted first. With a loud, whistling scream, she ran toward the man, waving her arms and crying, "Jemby! Jemby!" in a breathless fashion.

She never slackened her pace, and when she was close enough, the man stooped and lifted her high in the air. She threw her arms about his neck, sobbing, and still gasping, "Jemby!"

The others approached more soberly and Trevize said, slowly and distinctly (could this man understand Galactic?), "We ask pardon, sir. This child has lost her protector and is searching for it desperately. How it came to fasten on you is a puzzle to us, since it is seeking a robot; a mechanical-"

The man spoke for the first time. His voice was utilitarian rather than musical, and there was a faint air of archaism clinging to it, but he spoke Galactic with perfect ease.

"I greet you all in friendship," he said-and he seemed unmistakably friendly, even though his face continued to remain fixed in its expression of gravity. "As for this child," he went on, "she shows perhaps a greater perceptivity than you think, for I am a robot. My name is Daneel Olivaw."

Chapter 21 The Search Ends

101.