Prelude to Foundation - Isaac Asimov [52]
„Good. Do that!"
Both watched the screen until Benastra said, "There's nothing there now. See?"
There was again a fine with nothing but tiny uneven hiccups of noise.
..When did the footsteps stop?^
"Two hours ago. A trifle more."
"And when they stopped were there fewer than there were earlier?"
Benastra looked mildly outraged. "I couldn't tell. I don't think the finest analysis could make a certain decision."
Dors pressed her lips together. Then she said, "Are you testing a transducer-is that what you called it-near the meteorological outlet?..
"Yes, that's where the instruments are and that's where the meteorologists would have been." Then, unbelievingly, "Do you want the to try others in the vicinity? One at a time?"
"No. Stay on this one. But keep on going forward at fifteenminute intervals. One person tray have been left behind and may have made his way back to the instruments."
Benastra shook his head and muttered something under his breath.
The screen shifted again and Dors said sharply, "What's that?" She was pointing.
"I don't know. Noise."
..No. Its periodic. Could it be a single person's footsteps?"
"Sure, but it could be a dozen other things too."
"It's coming along at about the time of footsteps, isn't it?" Then, after a while, she said, "Push it forward a little."
He did and when the screen settled down she said, "Aren't those unevennesses getting bigger?"
"Possibly. We can measure them."
"We don't have to. You can see they're getting bigger. The footsteps are approaching the transducer. Go forward again. See when they stop."
After a while Benastm said, "They stopped twenty or twenty-five minutes ago." Then cautiously, "Whatever they are."
"They're footsteps," said Dors with mountain-moving conviction. "There's a man up there and while you and I have been fooling around here, he's collapsed and he's going to freeze and die. Now don't say, 'Whatever they are!' Just call Meteorology and get me Jenarr Leggen. Life or death, I tell you. Say so!"
Benastra, lips quivering, had passed the stage where he could possibly resist anything this strange and passionate woman demanded.
It took no more than three minutes to get Leggen's hologram on the message platform. He had been pulled away from his dinner table. There was a napkin in his hand and a suspicious greasiness under his lower lip.
His long face was set in a fearful scowl. "'Life or death?'What is this? Who are you?" Then his eye caught Dors, who had moved closer to Benastra so that her image would be seen on Jenarr's s screen. He said, "You again. This is simple harassment."
Dors said, "It is not. I have consulted Rogen Benastra, who is Chief Seismologist at the University. After you and your party had left Upperside, the seismograph shows clear footsteps of one person still there. It's my student Hari Seldon, who went up there in your care and who is now, quite certainly, lying in a collapsed stupor and may not live long.
"You will, therefore, take me up there right now with whatever equipment may be necessary. If you do not do so immediately, I shall proceed to University security-to the President himself, if necessary. One way or another I'll get up there and if anything has happened to Hari because you delay one minute, I will see to it that you are hauled in for negligence, incompetence-whatever I can make stick-and will have you lose all status and be thrown out of academic life. And if he's dead, of course, that's manslaughter by negligence. Or worse, since I've now warned you he's dying."
Jenarr, furious, turned to Benastra. "Did you detect-"
But Dors cut in. "He told me what he detected and I've told you. I do not intend to allow you to bulldoze him into confusion. Are you coming? Now?"
..Has it occurred to you that you tray be mistaken?.. said Jenarr, thinlipped. "Do you know what I can do to you if this is a mischievous false