Foundation's Edge - Isaac Asimov [152]
Trevize said, "It's coming in, whatever it is. My impulse is to tackle it the minute it appears." He balled a fist.
"I think we had better relax," said Pelorat. "It may be stronger than we. It can control our minds. There are surely others on the ship. We had better wait till we know more about what we are facing."
"You grow more and more sensible by the minute, Janov," said Trevize, "and I, less and less."
They could hear the airlock moving into action and finally the figure appeared inside the ship.
"About normal size," muttered Pelorat. "The space suit could fit a human being."
"I never saw or heard of such a design, but it doesn't fall outside the limits of human manufacture, it seems to me. --It doesn't say anything."
The space-suited figure stood before them and a forelimb rose to the rounded helmet, which--if it were made of glass--possessed one-way transparency only. Nothing could be seen inside.
The limb touched something with a quick motion that Trevize did not clearly make out and the helmet was at once detached from the rest of the suit. It lifted off.
What was exposed was the face of a young and undeniably pretty woman.
2.
PELORAT'S EXPRESSIONLESS FACE DID WHAT IT could to look stupefied. He said hesitantly, "Are you human?"
The woman's eyebrows shot up and her lips pouted. There was no way of telling from the action whether she was faced with a strange language and did not understand or whether she understood and wondered at the question.
Her hand moved quickly to the left side of her suit, which opened in one piece as though it were on a set of hinges. She stepped out and the suit remained standing without content for a moment. Then, with a soft sigh that seemed almost human, it collapsed.
She looked even younger, now that she had stepped out. Her clothing was loose and translucent, with the skimpy items beneath visible as shadows. The outer robe reached to her knees.
She was small-breasted and narrow-waisted, with hips rounded and full. Her thighs, which were seen in shadow, were generous, but her legs narrowed to graceful ankles. Her hair was dark and shoulder-length, her eyes brown and large, her lips full and slightly asymmetric.
She looked down at herself and then solved the problem of her understanding of the language by saying, "Don't I look human?"
She spoke Galactic Standard with just a trifle of hesitation, as though she were straining a bit to get the pronunciation quite right.
Pelorat nodded and said with a small smile, "I can't deny it. Quite human. Delightfully human."
The young woman spread her arms as though inviting closer examination. "I should hope so, gentlemen. Men have died for this body."
"I would rather live for it," said Pelorat, finding a vein of gallantry which faintly surprised him.
"Good choice," said the woman solemnly. "Once this body is attained, all sighs become sighs of ecstasy."
She laughed and Pelorat laughed with her.
Trevize, whose forehead had puckered into a frown through this exchange, rapped out, "How old are you?"
The woman seemed to shrink a little. "Twenty-three--gentleman."
"Why have you come? What is your purpose here?"
"I have come to escort you to Gaia." Her command of Galactic Standard was slipping slightly and her vowels tended to round into diphthongs. She made "come" sound like "comb" and "Gaia" like "Gay-uh."
"A girl to escort us."
The woman drew herself up and suddenly she had the bearing of one in charge. "I," she said, "am Gaia, as well as another. It was my stint on the station."
"Your stint? Were you the only one on board?"
Proudly. "I was all that was needed."
"And is it empty now?"
"I am no longer on it, gentleman, but it is not empty. It is there."
"It? To what do you refer?"
"To the station. It is Gaia. It doesn't need me. It holds your ship."
"Then what are you doing on the station?"
"It is my stint."
Pelorat had taken Trevize by the sleeve and had been shaken off. He tried again. "Golan," he said in an urgent half-whisper. "Don't shout at her. She's only a girl. Let me