Prelude to Foundation - Isaac Asimov [78]
"Leads? Like going back in history to a time when human society was smaller than it is now?"
"Much smaller. And far less complex."
"And showing that a solution is still impractical?"
"Yes."
"But who is going to describe the early world for you? If the Mycogenians have some coherent picture of the primordial Galaxy, Sunmaster certainly won't reveal it to a tribesman. No Mycogenian will. This is an ingrown society-how many times have we already said it?-and its members are suspicious of tribesmen to the point of paranoia. They'll tell us nothing."
"I will have to think of a way to persuade some Mycogenians to talk. Those Sisters, for instance."
"They won't even bear you, male that you are, any more than Sunmaster hears me. And even if they do talk to you, what would they know but a few catch phrases?"
"I must start somewhere."
Dors said, "Well, let me think. Hummin says I must protect you and I interpret that as meaning I must help you when I can. What do I know about religion? That's nowhere near my specialty, you know. I have always dealt with economic forces, rather than philosophic forces, but you can't split history into neat little nonoverlapping divisions. For instance, religions tend to accumulate wealth when successful and that eventually tends to distort the economic development of a society. There, incidentally, is one of the numerous rules of human history that you'll have to derive from your basic Laws of Humanics or whatever you called them. But . . .
And here, Dors's voice faded away as she lapsed into thought. Seldon watched her cautiously and Dors's eyes glazed as though she was looking deep within herself.
Finally she said, "This is not an invariable rule, but it seems to me that on many occasions, a religion has a book-or books-of significance; books that give their ritual, their view of history, their sacred poetry, and who knows what else. Usually, those books are open to all and are a means of proselytization. Sometimes they are secret."
"Do you think Mycogen has books of that sort?"
"To be truthful," said Dors thoughtfully, "I have never heard of any. I might have if they existed openly-which means they either don't exist or are kept secret. In either case, it seems to me you are not going to see them."
"At least it's a starting point," said Seldon grimly.
42.
The Sisters returned about two hours after Hari and Dors had finished lunch. They were smiling, both of them, and Raindrop FortyThree, the graver one, held up a gray kirtle for Dors's inspection.
"It is very attractive," said Dors, smiling widely and nodding her head with a certain sincerity. "I like the clever embroidery here."
"It is nothing," twittered Raindrop Forty-Five. "It is one of my old things and it won't fit very well, for you are taller than I am. But it will do for a while and we will take you out to the very best kirtlery to get a few that will fit you and your tastes perfectly. You will see."
Raindrop Forty-Three, smiling a little nervously but saying nothing and keeping her eyes fixed on the ground, handed a white kirtle to Dors. It was folded neatly. Dors did not attempt to unfold it, but passed it on to Seldon. "From the color I should say it's yours, Hari."
"Presumably," said Seldon, "but give it back. She did not give it to me."
"Oh, Hari," mouthed Dors, shaking her head slightly.
"No," said Seldon firmly. "She did not give it to me. Give it back to her and I'll wait for her to give it to me."
Dors hesitated, then made a halfhearted attempt to pass the kirtle back to Raindrop Forty-Three.
The Sister put her hands behind her back and moved away, all life seeming to drain from her face. Raindrop Forty-Five stole a glance at Seldon, a very quick one, then took a quick step toward Raindrop FortyThree and put her arms about her.
Dors said, "Come, Hari, I'm sure that Sisters are not permitted to talk to men who are not related to them. What's the use of making her miserable? She can't help it."
"I don't believe it," said Seldon harshly. "If there is such a rule, is applies