Foundation and Earth - Isaac Asimov [154]
Bliss said, “Perhaps we missed the hail for some reason.”
“Our computer would have received it at any wavelength they might have cared to use. And we’ve been sending out our own signals, but have roused no one and nothing as a result. Dipping under the cloud layer without communicating with station officials violates space courtesy, but I don’t see that we have a choice.”
The Far Star slowed, and strengthened its antigravity accordingly, so as to maintain its height. It came out into the sunlight again, and slowed further. Trevize, in co-ordination with the computer, found a sizable break in the clouds. The ship sank and passed through it. Beneath them heaved the ocean in what must have been a fresh breeze. It lay, wrinkled, several kilometers below them, faintly striped in lines of froth.
They flew out of the sunlit patch and under the cloud cover. The expanse of water immediately beneath them turned a slate-gray, and the temperature dropped noticeably.
Fallom, staring at the viewscreen, spoke in her own consonant-rich language for a few moments, then shifted to Galactic. Her voice trembled. “What is that which I see beneath?”
“That is an ocean,” said Bliss soothingly. “It is a very large mass of water.”
“Why does it not dry up?”
Bliss looked at Trevize, who said, “There’s too much water for it to dry up.”
Fallom said in a half-choked manner, “I don’t want all that water. Let us go away.” And then she shrieked, thinly, as the Far Star moved through a patch of storm clouds so that the viewscreen turned milky and was streaked with the mark of raindrops.
The lights in the pilot-room dimmed and the ship’s motion became slightly jerky.
Trevize looked up in surprise and cried out. “Bliss, your Fallom is old enough to transduce. She’s using electric power to try to manipulate the controls. Stop her!”
Bliss put her arms about Fallom, and hugged her tightly, “It’s all right, Fallom, it’s all right. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just another world, that’s all. There are many like this.”
Fallom relaxed somewhat but continued to tremble.
Bliss said to Trevize, “The child has never seen an ocean, and perhaps, for all I know, never experienced fog or rain. Can’t you be sympathetic?”
“Not if she tampers with the ship. She’s a danger to all of us, then. Take her into your room and calm her down.”
Bliss nodded curtly.
Pelorat said, “I’ll come with you, Bliss.”
“No, no, Pel,” she responded. “You stay here. I’ll soothe Fallom and you soothe Trevize.” And she left.
“I don’t need soothing,” growled Trevize to Pelorat. “I’m sorry if I flew off the handle, but we can’t have a child playing with the controls, can we?”
“Of course we can’t,” said Pelorat, “but Bliss was caught by surprise. She can control Fallom, who is really remarkably well behaved for a child taken from her home and her—her robot, and thrown, willy-nilly, into a life she doesn’t understand.”
“I know. It wasn’t I who wanted to take her along, remember. It was Bliss’s idea.”
“Yes, but the child would have been killed, if we hadn’t taken her.”
“Well, I’ll apologize to Bliss later on. To the child, too.”
But he was still frowning, and Pelorat said gently, “Golan, old chap, is there anything else bothering you?”
“The ocean,” said Trevize. They had long emerged from the rain storm, but the clouds persisted.
“What’s wrong with it?” asked Pelorat.
“There’s too much of it, that’s all.”
Pelorat looked blank, and Trevize said, with a snap, “No land. We haven’t seen any land. The atmosphere is perfectly normal, oxygen and nitrogen in decent proportions, so the planet has to be engineered, and there has to be plant life to maintain the oxygen level. In the natural state, such atmospheres do not occur—except, presumably, on Earth, where it developed, who knows how. But, then, on engineered planets there are always reasonable amounts of dry land, up to one third of the whole, and never less than a fifth. So how can this planet be engineered, and lack land?”
Pelorat said, “Perhaps, since this planet is part of a binary system,