Foundation's Edge - Isaac Asimov [113]
"Really?" said Trevize. "On what?"
Her eyes opened wide again, "You are a teaser. He knows more about ancient history than--than I know about my own family." And she continued to walk on ahead on her musical feet.
One can only be called a teaser and a finger-tweaker so often without developing an actual impulse in that direction. Trevize smiled and said, "The professor knows all about Earth, I suppose?"
"Earth?" She stopped at an office door and looked at them blankly.
"You know. The world where humanity got its start."
"Oh, you mean the planet-that-was-first. I guess so. I guess he should know all about it. After all, it's located in the Sayshell Sector. Everyone knows that! --This is his office. Let me signal him."
"No, don't," said Trevize. "Not for just a minute. Tell me about Earth."
"Actually I never heard anyone call it Earth. I suppose that's a Foundation word. We call it Gaia, here."
Trevize cast a swift look at Pelorat. "Oh? And where is it located?"
"Nowhere. It's in hyperspace and there's no way anyone can get to it. When I was a little girl, my grandmother said that Gaia was once in real space, but it was so disgusted at the--"
"Crimes and stupidities of human beings," muttered Pelorat, "that, out of shame, it left space and refused to have anything more to do with the human beings it had sent out into the Galaxy."
"You know the story, then. See? --A girlfriend of mine says it's superstition. Well, I'll tell her. If it's good enough for professors from the Foundation--"
A glittering section of lettering on the smoky glass of the door read: SOTAYN QUINTESETZ ABT in the hard-to-read Sayshellian calligraphy--and under it was printed, in the same fashion: DEPARTMENT OF ANCIENT HISTORY.
The woman placed her finger on a smooth metal circle. There was no sound, but the smokiness of the glass turned a milky white for a moment and a soft voice said, in an abstracted sort of way, "Identify yourself, please."
"Janov Pelorat of Terminus," said Pelorat, "with Golan Trevize of the same world." The door swung open at once.
3.
THE MAN WHO STOOD UP, WALKED AROUND HIS desk, and advanced to meet them was tall and well into middle age. He was light brown in skin color and his hair, which was set in crisp curls over his head, was iron-gray. He held out his hand in greeting and his voice was soft and low. "I am S.Q. I am delighted to meet you, Professor."
Trevize said, "I don't own an academic title. I merely accompany Professor Pelorat. You may call me simply Trevize. I am pleased to meet you, Professor Abt."
Quintesetz held up one hand in clear embarrassment. "No no. Abt is merely a foolish title of some sort that has no significance outside of Sayshell. Ignore it, please, and call me S.Q. We tend to use initials in ordinary social intercourse on Sayshell. I'm so pleased to meet two of you when I had been expecting but one."
He seemed to hesitate a moment, then extended his right hand after wiping it unobtrusively on his trousers.
Trevize took it, wondering what the proper Sayshellian manner of greeting was.
Quintesetz said, "Please sit down. I'm afraid you'll find these chairs to be lifeless ones, but I, for one, don't want my chairs to hug me. It's all the fashion for chairs to hug you nowadays, but I prefer a hug to mean something, hey?"
Trevize smiled and said, "Who would not? Your name, S.Q., seems to be of the Rim Worlds and not Sayshellian. I apologize if the remark is impertinent."
"I don't mind. My family traces back, in part, to Askone. Five generations back, my great-great-grandparents left Askone when Foundation domination grew too heavy."
Pelorat said, "And we are Foundationers. Our apologies."
Quintesetz waved his hand genially, "I don't hold a grudge across a stretch of five generations. Not that such things haven't been done, more's the pity. Would you like to have something to eat? To drink? Would you like music in