Foundation's Edge - Isaac Asimov [69]
He paused.
Back. Back. Back.
Space! He had almost missed it!
Was he the victim of an illusion?
No! Now that his attention was drawn to it, he could make it out clearly. There was the tiniest tendril disarrayed--an abnormal disarray. Yet it was so delicate, so ramification-free.
Gendibal emerged from her mind. He said gently, "Novi."
Her eyes focused. She said, "Yes, Master?"
Gendibal said, "You may work with me. I will make you a scholar--"
Joyfully, eyes blazing, she said, "Master--"
He detected it at once. She was going to throw herself at his feet. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her tightly. "Don't move, Novi. Stay where you are. --Stay!"
He might have been talking to a half-trained animal. When he could see the order had penetrated, he let her go. He was conscious of the hard muscles along her upper arms.
He said, "If you are to be a scholar, you must behave like one. That means you will have to be always quiet, always soft-spoken, always doing what I tell you to do. And you must try to learn to talk as I do. You will also have to meet other scholars. Will you be afraid?"
"I be not afeared--afraid, Master, if you be with me."
"I will be with you. But now, first--I must find you a room, arrange to have you assigned a lavatory, a place in the dining room, and clothes, too. You will have to wear clothes more suitable to a scholar, Novi."
"These be all I--" she began miserably.
"We will supply others."
Clearly he would have to get a woman to arrange for a new supply of clothing for Novi. He would also need someone to teach the Hamisher the rudiments of personal hygiene. After all, though the clothes she wore were probably her best and though she had obviously spruced herself up, she still had a distinct odor that was faintly unpleasant.
And he would have to make sure that the relationship between them was understood. It was always an open secret that the men (and women, too) of the Second Foundation made occasional forays among the Hamish for their pleasure. If there was no interference with Hamish minds in the process, no one dreamed of making a fuss about it. Gendibal himself had never indulged in this, and he liked to think it was because he felt no need for sex that might be coarser and more highly spiced than was available at the University. The women of the Second Foundation might be pallid in comparison to the Hamish, but they were clean and their skins were smooth.
But even if the matter were misunderstood and there were sniggers at a Speaker who not only turned to the Hamish but brought one into his quarters, he would have to endure the embarrassment. As it stood, this farmwoman, Sura Novi, was his key to victory in the inevitable forthcoming duel with Speaker Delarmi and the rest of the Table.
4.
GENDIBAL DID NOT SEE NOVI AGAIN TILL AFTER dinnertime, at which time she was brought to him by the woman to whom he had endlessly explained the situation--at least, the nonsexual character of the situation. She had understood--or, at least, did not dare show any indication of failure to understand, which was perhaps just as good.
Novi stood before him now, bashful, proud, embarrassed, triumphant--all at once, in an incongruous mixture.
He said, "You look very nice, Novi."
The clothes they had given her fit surprisingly well and there was no question that she did not look at all ludicrous. Had they pinched in her waist? Lifted her breasts? Or had that just been not particularly noticeable in her farmwoman clothing?
Her buttocks were prominent, but not displeasingly so. Her face, of course, remained plain, but when the tan of outdoor life faded and she learned how to care for her complexion, it would not look downright ugly.
By the Old Empire, that woman did think Novi was to be his mistress. She had tried to make her beautiful for him.
And then he thought: Well, why not?
Novi would have to face the Speaker's Table--and the more attractive she seemed, the more easily he would be able to get his point across.
It was with this thought that the message from the First Speaker