Foundation and Earth

"No. Well, yes, in a way. It makes me uneasy if I don't do it." She didn't look at him. Then, as though eager to shift the subject, she said quickly, "And how is that black-haired woman of yours of the essence with respect to your mission to reach-that world you mentioned."

"Say 'the Oldest.' Or would you rather not even say that?"

"I would rather not discuss it at all, but I asked you a question."

"I believe that her people reached their present world as emigrants from the Oldest."

"As we did," said Lizalor proudly.

"But her people have traditions of some sort which she says are the key to understanding the Oldest, but only if we reach it and can study its records."

"She is lying."

"Perhaps, but we must check it out."

"If you have this woman with her problematical knowledge, and if you want to reach the Oldest with her, why did you come to Comporellon?"

"To find the location of the Oldest. I had a friend once, who, like myself, was a Foundationer. He, however, was descended from Comporellian ancestors and he assured me that much of the history of the Oldest was well known, on Comporellon."

"Did he indeed? And did he tell you any of its history?"

"Yes," said Trevize, reaching for the truth again. "He said that the Oldest was a dead world, entirely radioactive. He did not know why, but he thought that it might be the result of nuclear explosions. In a war, perhaps."

"No!" said Lizalor explosively.

"No, there was no war? Or no, the Oldest is not radioactive?"

"It is radioactive, but there was no war."

"Then how did it become radioactive? It could not have been radioactive to begin with since human life began on the Oldest. There would have been n0 life on it ever."

Lizalor seemed to hesitate. She stood erect, and was breathing deeply, almost gasping. She said, "It was a punishment. It was a world that used robots. Do you know what robots are?"

"Yes."

"They had robots and for that they were punished. Every world that has had robots has been punished and no longer exists."

"Who punished them, Lizalor?"

"He Who Punishes. The forces of history. I don't know." She looked away from him, uncomfortable, then said, in a lower voice, "Ask others."

"I would like to, but whom do I ask? Are there those on Comporellon who have studied primeval history?"

"There are. They are not popular with us-with the average Comporellian-but the Foundation, your Foundation, insists on intellectual freedom, they call it."

"Not a bad insistence, in my opinion," said Trevize.

"All is bad that is imposed from without," said Lizalor.

Trevize shrugged. There was no purpose in arguing the matter. He said,** "My friend, Dr. Pelorat, is himself a primeval historian of a sort. He would, I’m sure, like to meet his Comporellian colleagues. Can you arrange that, Lizalor?"

She nodded. "There is a historian named Vasil Deniador, who is based at the University here in the city. He does not teach class, but he may be able to tell you what you want to know."

"Why doesn't he teach class?"

"It's not that he is forbidden; it's just that students do not elect his course."

"I presume," said Trevize, trying not to say it sardonically, "that the students are encouraged not to elect it."

"Why should they want to? He is a Skeptic. We have them, you know. There are always individuals who pit their minds against the general modes of thought and who are arrogant enough to feel that they alone are right and that the many are wrong."

"Might it not be that that could actually be so in some cases?"

"Never!" snapped Lizalor, with a firmness of belief that made it quite clear that no further discussion in that direction would be of any use. "And for all his Skepticism, he will be forced to tell you exactly what any Comporellian would tell you."

"And that is?"

"That if you search for the Oldest, you will not find it."

24.

IN THE PRIVATE quarters assigned them, Pelorat listened to Trevize thoughtfully, his long solemn face expressionless, then said, "Vasil Deniador? I do not recall having heard of him, but it may be that back on the ship I will find papers by him in my library."

"Are you sure you haven't heard of him? Think!" said Trevize.

"I don't recall, at the moment, having heard of him," said Pelorat cautiously, "but after all, my dear chap, there must be hundreds of estimable scholars I haven't heard of; or have, but can't remember."

"Still, he can't be first-class, or you would have heard of him."

"The study of Earth-"

"Practice saying 'the Oldest,' Janov. It would complicate matters otherwise."

"The study of the Oldest," said Pelorat, "is not a well-rewarded niche in the corridors of learning, so that first-class scholars, even in the field of primeval history, would not tend to find their way there. Or, if we put it the other way around, those who are already there do not make enough of a name for themselves in an uninterested world to be considered first-class, even if they were. I am not first-class in anyone's estimation, I am sure."

Bliss said tenderly, "In mine, Pel."