Foundation and Earth - Isaac Asimov [187]
Trevize smiled grimly. “I checked that. There are five planets of moderate size. No gas giants.”
“And are any of the five planets habitable?”
“The computer gives no information at all about the planets, other than their number, and the fact that they aren’t large.”
“Oh,” said Pelorat deflated.
Trevize said, “That’s nothing to be disappointed about. None of the Spacer worlds are to be found in the computer at all. The information on Alpha itself is minimal. These things are hidden deliberately and if almost nothing is known about Alpha’s companion, that might almost be regarded as a good sign.”
“Then,” said Bliss, in a business-like manner, “What you are planning to do is this—visit the companion and, if that draws a blank, return to Alpha itself.”
“Yes. And this time when we reach the island of New Earth, we will be prepared. We will examine the entire island meticulously before landing and, Bliss, I expect you to use your mental abilities to shield—”
And at that moment, the Far Star lurched slightly, as though it had undergone a ship-sized hiccup, and Trevize cried out, halfway between anger and perplexity, “Who’s at the controls?”
And even as he asked, he knew very well who was.
95.
FALLOM, AT THE COMPUTER CONSOLE, WAS COMPLETELY absorbed. Her small, longfingered hands were stretched wide in order to fit the faintly gleaming handmarks on the desk. Fallom’s hands seemed to sink into the material of the desk, even though it was clearly felt to be hard and slippery.
She had seen Trevize hold his hands so on a number of occasions, and she hadn’t seen him do more than that, though it was quite plain to her that in so doing he controlled the ship.
On occasion, Fallom had seen Trevize close his eyes, and she closed hers now. After a moment or two, it was almost as though she heard a faint, far-off voice—far off, but sounding in her own head, through (she dimly realized) her transducer-lobes. They were even more important than her hands. She strained to make out the words.
Instructions, it said, almost pleadingly. What are your instructions?
Fallom didn’t say anything. She had never witnessed Trevize saying anything to the computer—but she knew what it was that she wanted with all her heart. She wanted to go back to Solaria, to the comforting endlessness of the mansion, to Jemby—Jemby—Jemby—
She wanted to go there and, as she thought of the world she loved, she imagined it visible on the viewscreen as she had seen other worlds she didn’t want. She opened her eyes and stared at the viewscreen willing some other world there than this hateful Earth, then staring at what she saw, imagining it to be Solaria. She hated the empty Galaxy to which she had been introduced against her will. Tears came to her eyes, and the ship trembled.
She could feel that tremble, and she swayed a little in response.
And then she heard loud steps in the corridor outside and, when she opened her eyes, Trevize’s face, distorted, filled her vision, blocking out the viewscreen, which held all she wanted. He was shouting something, but she paid no attention. It was he who had taken her from Solaria by killing Bander, and it was he who was preventing her from returning by thinking only of Earth, and she was not going to listen to him.
She was going to take the ship to Solaria, and, with the intensity of her resolve, it trembled again.
96.
BLISS CLUTCHED WILDLY AT TREVIZE’S ARM. “Don’t! Don’t!”
She clung strongly, holding him back, while Pelorat stood, confused and frozen, in the background.
Trevize was shouting, “Take your hands off the computer! —Bliss, don’t get in my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Bliss said, in a tone that seemed almost exhausted, “Don’t offer violence to the child. I’d have to hurt you—against all instructions.”
Trevize’s eyes darted wildly from Fallom to Bliss. He said, “Then you get her off, Bliss. Now!”
Bliss pushed him away with surprising strength (drawing it, Trevize thought afterward, from Gaia, perhaps).
“Fallom,” she said, “lift your hands.