Foundation and Earth - Isaac Asimov [119]
“Or any of us. But why did we bring that child on board?”
Pelorat shrugged apologetically. “Bliss wouldn’t let go. It was like saving a life in return for the one she took. She can’t bear—”
“I know,” said Trevize.
Pelorat said, “It’s a very oddly shaped child.”
“Being hermaphroditic, it would have to be,” said Trevize.
“It has testicles, you know.”
“It could scarcely do without them.”
“And what I can only describe as a very small vagina.”
Trevize made a face. “Disgusting.”
“Not really, Golan,” said Pelorat, protesting. “It’s adapted to its needs. It only delivers a fertilized egg-cell, or a very tiny embryo, which is then developed under laboratory conditions, tended, I dare say, by robots.”
“And what happens if their robot-system breaks down? If that happens, they would no longer be able to produce viable young.”
“Any world would be in serious trouble if its social structure broke down completely.”
“Not that I would weep uncontrollably over the Solarians.”
“Well,” said Pelorat, “I admit it doesn’t seem a very attractive world—to us, I mean. But that’s only the people and the social structure, which are not our type at all, dear chap. But subtract the people and the robots, and you have a world which otherwise—”
“Might fall apart as Aurora is beginning to do,” said Trevize. “How’s Bliss, Janov?”
“Worn out, I’m afraid. She’s sleeping now. She had a very bad time, Golan.”
“I didn’t exactly enjoy myself either.”
Trevize closed his eyes, and decided he could use some sleep himself and would indulge in that relief as soon as he was reasonably certain the Solarians had no space capability—and so far the computer had reported nothing of artifactitious nature in space.
He thought bitterly of the two Spacer planets they had visited—hostile wild dogs on one—hostile hermaphroditic loners on the other—and in neither place the tiniest hint as to the location of Earth. All they had to show for the double visit was Fallom.
He opened his eyes. Pelorat was still sitting in place at the other side of the computer, watching him solemnly.
Trevize said, with sudden conviction, “We should have left that Solarian child behind.”
Pelorat said, “The poor thing. They would have killed it.”
“Even so,” said Trevize, “it belonged there. It’s part of that society. Being put to death because of being superfluous is the sort of thing it’s born to.”
“Oh, my dear fellow, that’s a hardhearted way to look at it.”
“It’s a rational way. We don’t know how to care for it, and it may suffer more lingeringly with us and die anyway. What does it eat?”
“Whatever we do, I suppose, old man. Actually, the problem is what do we eat? How much do we have in the way of supplies?”
“Plenty. Plenty. Even allowing for our new passenger.”
Pelorat didn’t look overwhelmed with happiness at this remark. He said, “It’s become a pretty monotonous diet. We should have taken some items on board on Comporellon—not that their cooking was excellent.”
“We couldn’t. We left, if you remember, rather hurriedly, as we left Aurora, and as we left, in particular, Solaria. —But what’s a little monotony? It spoils one’s pleasure, but it keeps one alive.”
“Would it be possible to pick up fresh supplies if we need to?”
“Anytime, Janov. With a gravitic ship and hyperspatial engines, the Galaxy is a small place. In days, we can be anywhere. It’s just that half the worlds in the Galaxy are alerted to watch for our ship and I would rather stay out of the way for a time.”
“I suppose that’s so. —Bander didn’t seem interested in the ship.”
“It probably wasn’t even consciously aware of it. I suspect that the Solarians long ago gave up space flight. Their prime desire is to be left completely alone and they can scarcely enjoy the security of isolation if they are forever moving about in space and advertising their presence.”
“What are we going to do next, Golan?”
Trevize said, “We have a third world to visit.”
Pelorat shook his head. “Judging from the first two, I don’t expect