Foundation and Earth - Isaac Asimov [98]
Trevize took a step backward. “I’m afraid not, Bander.”
Bander seemed amused. “I asked only out of politeness. I need not have asked at all.”
It held out its hand and from Trevize’s right holster, there emerged his blaster, while from his left holster, there rose up his neuronic whip. Trevize snatched at his weapons but felt his arms held back as though by stiffly elastic bonds. Both Pelorat and Bliss started forward and it was clear that they were held as well.
Bander said, “Don’t bother trying to interfere. You cannot.” The weapons flew to its hands and it looked them over carefully. “This one,” it said, indicating the blaster, “seems to be a microwave beamer that produces heat, thus exploding any fluid-containing body. The other is more subtle, and, I must confess, I do not see at a glance what it is intended to do. However, since you mean no harm and offer no harm, you don’t need arms. I can, and I do, bleed the energy content of the units of each weapon. That leaves them harmless unless you use one or the other as a club, and they would be clumsy indeed if used for that purpose.”
The Solarian released the weapons and again they drifted through the air, this time back toward Trevize. Each settled neatly into its holster.
Trevize, feeling himself released, pulled out his blaster, but there was no need to use it. The contact hung loosely, and the energy unit had clearly been totally drained. That was precisely the case with the neuronic whip as well.
He looked up at Bander, who said, smiling, “You are quite helpless, Outworlder. I can as easily, if I so desired, destroy your ship and, of course, you.”
11
Underground
47.
TREVIZE FELT FROZEN. TRYING TO BREATHE NORMALLY, he turned to look at Bliss.
She was standing with her arm protectively about Pelorat’s waist, and, to all appearances, was quite calm. She smiled slightly and, even more slightly, nodded her head.
Trevize turned back to Bander. Having interpreted Bliss’s actions as signifying confidence, and hoping with dreadful earnestness that he was correct, he said grimly, “How did you do that, Bander?”
Bander smiled, obviously in high good humor. “Tell me, little Outworlders, do you believe in sorcery? In magic?”
“No, we do not, little Solarian,” snapped Trevize.
Bliss tugged at Trevize’s sleeve and whispered, “Don’t irritate him. He’s dangerous.”
“I can see he is,” said Trevize, keeping his voice low with difficulty. “You do something, then.”
Her voice barely heard, Bliss said, “Not yet. He will be less dangerous if he feels secure.”
Bander paid no attention to the brief whispering among the Outworlders. It moved away from them uncaringly, the robots separating to let it pass.
Then it looked back and crooked a finger languidly. “Come. Follow me. All three of you. I will tell you a story that may not interest you, but that interests me.” It continued to walk forward leisurely.
Trevize remained in place for a while, uncertain as to the best course of action. Bliss walked forward, however, and the pressure of her arm led Pelorat forward as well. Eventually, Trevize moved; the alternative was to be left standing alone with the robots.
Bliss said lightly, “If Bander will be so kind as to tell the story that may not interest us—”
Bander turned and looked intently at Bliss as though he were truly aware of her for the first time. “You are the feminine half-human,” he said, “aren’t you? The lesser half?”
“The smaller half, Bander. Yes.”
“These other two are masculine half-humans, then?”
“So they are.”
“Have you had your child yet, feminine?”
“My name, Bander, is Bliss. I have not yet had a child. This is Trevize. This is Pel.”
“And which of these two masculines is to assist you when it is your time? Or will it be both? Or neither?”
“Pel will assist me, Bander.”
Bander turned his attention to Pelorat. “You have white hair, I see.”
Pelorat said, “I have.”
“Was it always that color?”
“No, Bander, it became so with age.”
“And how old