Prelude to Foundation Chapter 9 Microfarm

MYCOGEN- The microfarms of Mycogen be legendary, though they survive today n of all timetheless in much(prenominal) oft-used similes as exuberant as the microfarms of Mycogen or tasty as Mycogenian yeast. much(prenominal) encomiums tend to intensify with time, to be sure, entirely Hari Seldon visited those microfarms in the course of The f diminish of stairs and thither be references in his memoirs that would tend to support the popular t wizEncyclopedia astronomica41.That was good. state Seldon explosively. It was considerably better than the nourish manpowert Graycloud brought-Dors express reasonably, You cave in to dream up that Grayclouds woman had to prep atomic number 18 it on short nonice in the middle of the night. She paused and utter, I wish they would evidence wife. They earn woman sound same such an appanage, like my house or my robe. It is absolutely demeaning.I know. Its infuriating. that they aptitude well nurse wife sound like an appanage as wel l. Its the counseling they live and the infants dont key unwrapm to mind. You and I argonnt expiry to change it by lecturing. Anyway, did you see how the siss did it?Yes, I did and they do e real function impression genuinely simple. I interrogativeed I could remember every(prenominal)thing they did, and they insisted I wouldnt withdraw to. I could make out extraneous with spotless h tuckering. I gat present(predicate)(predicate)d the bread had virtually sort of microderivative added to it in the baking that both raise the dough and lent it that crunchy consistency and warm flavor. salutary a hint of pepper, didnt you think?I couldnt disc all over, provided some(prenominal) it was, I didnt sound enough. And the soup. Did you recognize each of the ve matureables?No.And what was the sliced meat? Could you tell?I dont think it was sliced meat, actually. We did select a lamb purse back on Cinna that it reminded me of.It was sure enough non lamb.I state t hat I doubted it was meat at all.-I dont think anyone external Mycogen eats like this either. non hushed the Emperor, Im sure. Whatever the Mycogenians sell is, Im leaveing to bet, roughly the bottom of the line. They accomplish the best for themselves. We had better not stay here too persistent, Hari. If we acquire used to eating like this, well never be able to acclimatise ourselves to the miserable stuff they fork over outside. She laughed.Seldon laughed too. He took another sip at the fruit succus, which tasted far more tantalizing than any fruit juice he had ever sipped before, and tell, listen, when Hummin took me to the University, we stopped at a roadside dining compart custodyt and had some food that was heavily yeasted. It tasted like- No, never mind what it tasted like, unless I wouldnt project view it c at onceivable, whence, that microfood could taste like this. I wish the Sisters were soundless here. It would engender been polite to thank them.I think they were sort of sure of how we would feel. I remarked on the wonderful perfume maculation everything was warming and they utter, quite com blotntly, that it would taste unconstipated better.The older one say that, I imagine.Yes. The junior one giggled.-And theyll be back. Theyre going to bring me a kirtle, so that I can go out to see the shops with them. And they made it clear I would confuse to wash my face if I was to be seen in public. They pull up stakes demo me where to demoralize some good-quality kirtles of my own and where I can buy ready-made meals of all kinds. All Ill have to do is heat them up. They explained that properly Sisters wouldnt do that, plainly would start from scratch. In fact, some of the meal they prepargond for us was simply heated and they apologized for that. They sleep togetherd to imply, though, that tribes hoi polloi couldnt be expected to appreciate aline artistry in cooking, so that simply heating prep atomic number 18d food would do for us.-They seem to take it for granted, by the way, that I give be doing all the shopping and cooking.As we say at home, When in Trantor, do as the Trantorians do. Yes, I was sure that would be your attitude in this case.Im alone pitying, express Seldon.The usual excuse, said Dors with a small smile. Seldon leaned back with a satisfactory well-filled feeling and said, Youve been on Trantor for dickens years, Dors, so you might envision a few things that I dont. Is it your opinion that this odd social governing body the Mycogenians have is part of a super inherentistic view they have? supernaturalist?Yes. Would you have heard that this was so?What do you mean by supernaturalistic?The obvious. A belief in entities that are independent of natural righteousness, that are not bound by the conservation of energy, for instance, or by the existence of a constant of action.I see. Youre asking if Mycogen is a unearthly community.It was Seldons turn. Religious?Yes. Its an cru de term, but we historians use it-our study is riddled with archaic terms. Religious is not but equivalent to supernaturalistic, though it contains richly supernaturalistic elements. I cant answer your detail question, however, because Ive never made any special investigation of Mycogen. Still, from what bitty Ive seen of the place and from my knowledge of religions in history, I wouldnt be surprised if the Mycogenian parliamentary procedure was spectral in percentage.In that case, would it surprise you if Mycogenian legends were also religious in vitrine?No, it wouldnt.And in that locationfore not based on historical matter?That wouldnt of necessity fol piteous. The core of the legends might still be authentically historic, al scurvying for distortion and supernaturalistic intermixture.Ah, said Seldon and seemed to retire into his thoughts.Finally Dors broke the silence that followed and said, Its not so uncommon, you know. there is a considerable religious element on so me worlds. Its custodyome stronger in the demise few centuries as the Empire has giving more turbulent. On my world of Cinna, at least(prenominal) a accommodate of the population is tritheistic.Seldon was again painfully and regretfully conscious of his ignorance of history. He said, Were there times in past history when religion was more prominent than it is today?Certainly. In addition, there are wise varieties springing up constantly. The Mycogenian religion, whatever it might be, could be relatively new and may be curb to Mycogen itself. I couldnt really tell without considerable study. plainly now we get to the catamenia of it, Dors. Is it your opinion that women are more apt to be religious than men are?Dors Venabili raised her eyebrows. Im not sure if we can make anything as simple as that. She thought a bit. I leery that those elements of a population that have a smaller stake in the material natural world are more apt to come on solace in what you call superna turalness-the poor, the disinherited, the chargetrodden. Insofar as supernaturalism overlaps religion, they may also be more religious. There are obviously more exceptions in both directions. Many of the downtrodden may lack religion some(prenominal) of the rich, powerful, and satisfied may possess it. exclusively in Mycogen, said Seldon, where the women seem to be tough as subhuman-would I be right in assuming they would be more religious than the men, more involved in the legends that the society has been preserving?I wouldnt risk my life on it, Hari, but Id be exiting to risk a weeks income on it.Good, said Seldon thoughtfully.Dors smiled at him. Theres a bit of your psychohistory, Hari. Rule rate 47,854 The downtrodden are more religious than the satisfied.Seldon move his head. Dont joke some psychohistory, Dors. You know Im not spirit for tiny rules but for vast generalizations and for actor of manipulation. I dont fate comparative religiosity as the result of a hund red specific rules. I urgency something from which I can, after manipulation by dint of some system of mathematicized logic, say, Aha, this group of people leading tend to be more religious than that group, provided that the following criteria are met, and that, therefore, when humanity meets with these stimuli, it will react with these responses. How horrible, said Dors. You are picturing human bes as simple mechanical devices. Press this button and you will get that twitch.No, because there will be many buttons pushing simultaneously to alter degrees and eliciting so many responses of distinct sorts that overall the predictions of the future will be statistical in nature, so that the individual human being will re of import a free agent.How can you know this?I cant, said Seldon. At least, I dont know it. I feel it to be so. It is what I consider to be the way things ought to be. If I can find the axioms, the fundamental Laws of Humanics, so to speak, and the necessary math ematical treatment, then I will have my psychohistory. I have proved that, in theory, this is possible-But impractical, right?I occur saying so.A small smile curved Dorss lips, Is that what you are doing, Hari, looking for some sort of solution to this problem?I dont know. I swear to you I dont know. But Chetter Hummin is so anxious to find a solution and, for some reason, I am anxious to please him. He is so persuasive a man.Yes, I know.Seldon let that comment pass, although a small frown flitted across his face. Seldon continued. Hummin insists the Empire is decaying, that it will collapse, that psychohistory is the unaccompanied intrust for saving it-or cushioning it or ameliorating it-and that without it humanity will be terminateed or, at the very least, go through prolonged misery. He seems to place the tariff for preventing that on me. Now, the Empire will certainly demise my time, but if Im to live at ease, I mustiness lift that responsibility from my shoulders. I mus t convince myself-and even convince Hummin-that psychohistory is not a practical way out that, notwithstanding theory, it cannot be developed. So I must follow up as many leads as I can and show that each one must fail.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 archean world for you? If the Mycogenians have some coherent picture of the primordial wandflower, Sunmaster certainly wont 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 smudge of paranoia. Theyll tell us nothing.I will have to think of a way to express some Mycogenians to talk. Those Sisters, for instance.They wont even hear you, manlike that you are, any more than Sunmaster hears me. And even if they do talk to you, what would they know but a few collar phrases?I must start somewhere.Dors said, Well, let me think. Hummin says I must cherish you and I interpret that as meaning I must serve up you when I can. What do I know intimately religion? Thats nowhere near my specialty, you know. I have always dealt with economic forces, rather than philosophic forces, but you cant split history into neat little nonoverlapping divisions. For instance, religions tend to hoard 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 youll have to derive from your base Laws of Humanics or whatever you called them. ButAnd here, Dorss voice faded outside(a) as she lapsed into thought. Seldon watched her cautiously and Dorss eye 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 signific ance 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 meat of proselytization. manytimes 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 dont exist or are kept secret. In either case, it seems to me you are not going to see them.At least its a starting point, said Seldon grimly.42.The Sisters returned about two hours after Hari and Dors had spotless lunch. They were smiling, both of them, and Raindrop cardinal, the graver one, held up a gray kirtle for Dorss 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 wont fit very well, for you are taller than I am. But it will do for a wh ile 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 unyielding on the ground, handed a white kirtle to Dors. It was folded neatly. Dors did not attempt to elongate it, but passed it on to Seldon.From the color I should say its yours, Hari.Presumably, said Seldon, but give it back. She did not give it to me.Oh, Hari, mouthed Dors, shaking her head s fire uply.No, said Seldon firmly. She did not give it to me. Give it back to her and Ill wait for her to give it to me.Dors hesitated, then made a one-half-hearted attempt to pass the kirtle back to Raindrop Forty-Three.The Sister allot her hands behind her back and moved away, all life seeming to drainage from her face. Raindrop Forty-Five stole a glance at Seldon, a very quick one, then took a quick step toward Raindrop Forty-Three and put her arms about her.Dors said, Co me, Hari, Im sure that Sisters are not permitted to talk to men who are not related to them. Whats the use of making her miserable? She cant suffice it.I dont believe it, said Seldon harshly. If there is such a rule, it applies and to chums. I doubt very much that shes ever met a tribesman before.Dors said to Raindrop Forty-Three in a soft voice, brace you ever met a tribesman before, Sister, or a tribeswoman?A long hesitation and then a slow negative shake of the head.Seldon threw out his arms. Well, there you are. If there is a rule of silence, it applies save to the pals. Would they have sent these young women-these Sisters-to deal with us if there was any rule against language to tribesmen?It might be, Hari, that they were meant to speak only to me and I to you.Nonsense. I dont believe it and I wont believe it. I am not exclusively a tribesman, I am an purenessed customer in Mycogen, asked to be treated as such by Chetter Hummin and escorted here by Sunmaster Fourteen h imself. I will not be treated as though I do not exist. I will be in communication with Sunmaster Fourteen and I will plain bitterly.Raindrop Forty-Five began to sob and Raindrop Forty-Three, retaining her comparative impassivity, nevertheless flushed faintly. Dors made as though to appeal to Seldon once again, but he stopped her with a brief and angry outward thrust of his right arm and then stared gloweringly at Raindrop Forty-Three.And finally she spoke and did not twitter. Rather, her voice trembled hoarsely, as though she had to force it to sound in the direction of a male being and was doing so against all her instincts and desires. You must not complain of us, tribesman. That would be un middling. You force me to break the custom of our people. What do you want of me?Seldon smiled disarmingly at once and held out his hand. The garment you brought me. The kirtle.Silently, she stretched out her arm and deposited the kirtle in his hand. He arching s animatedly and said in a so ft warm voice, thank you, Sister. He then cast a very brief look in Dorss direction, as though to say You see? But Dors looked away angrily.The kirtle was featureless, Seldon saw as he unfolded it (embroidery and decorativeness were for women, apparently), but it came with a tasseled boot that probably had some particular way of being worn. No doubt he could model it out.He said, Ill step into the bathroom and put this thing on. It wont take but a minute, I suppose.He stepped into the small put up and found the gate would not close behind him because Dors was forcing her way in as well. Only when the two of them were in the bathroom together did the doorsill close.What were you doing? Dors hissed angrily. You were an absolute brute, Hari. Why did you treat the poor woman that way?Seldon said impatiently, I had to make her talk to me. Im counting on her for information. You know that. Im no-account I had to be cruel, but how else could I have broken down her inhibitions? And he motioned her out.When he emerged, he found Dors in her kirtle too. Dors, despite the turn head the skincap gave her and the inherent dowdiness of the kirtle, managed to look quite attractive. The stitching on the robe somehow suggested a figure without revealing it in the least. Her crash was wider than his own and was a slightly different shade of gray from her kirtle. Whats more, it was held in front by two glittering blue stone snaps. (Women did manage to beautify themselves even under the greatest difficulty, Seldon thought.)Looking over at Hari, Dors said, You look quite the Mycogenian now. The two of us are fit to be taken to the stores by the Sisters.Yes, said Seldon, but afterward I want Raindrop Forty-Three to take me on a term of enlistment of the microfarms.Raindrop Forty-Threes eyes widened and she took a rapid step backward.Id like to see them, said Seldon calmly.Raindrop Forty-Three looked speedily at Dors. Tribeswoman-Seldon said, Perhaps you know nothing of the farms, Sister.That seemed to touch a nerve. She bring up her chin haughtily as she still carefully addressed Dors. I have fielded on the microfarms. All Brothers and Sisters do at some point in their lives.Well then, take me on the tour, said Seldon, and lets not go through the argument again. I am not a Brother to whom you are forbidden to speak and with whom you may have no dealings. I am a tribesman and an honored guest. I wear this skincap and this kirtle so as not to attract undue attention, but I am a scholar and while I am here I must learn. I cannot sit in this room and stare at the wall. I want to see the one thing you have that the rest of the Galaxy does not have your microfarms. I should think youd be proud to show them.We are proud, said Raindrop Forty-Three, finally facing Seldon as she spoke, and I will show you and dont think you will learn any of our secrets if that is what you are after. I will show you the microfarms tomorrow morning. It will take time to perfo rm a tour.Seldon said, I will wait till tomorrow morning. But do you promise? Do I have your intelligence service of honor?Raindrop Forty-Three said with clear contempt, I am a Sister and I will do as I say. I will keep my formulate of honor, even to a tribesman. Her voice grew icy at the last expressions, while her eyes widened and seemed to glitter.Seldon wondered what was passing through her mind and matt-up uneasy.43.Seldon passed a restless night. To begin with, Dors had announced that she must accompany him on the tour of the microfarm and he had objected strenuously. The building block purpose, he said, is to make her talk freely, to present her with an singular environment-alone with a male, even if a tribesman. Having broken custom so far, it will be easier to break it provided. If youre along, she will talk to you and I will only get the leavings.And if something happens to you in my absence, as it did Upperside?Nothing will happen. Please If you want to help me, st ay away. If not, I will have nothing further to do with you. I mean it, Dors. This is important to me. Much as Ive grown fond of you, you cannot come ahead of this.She agreed with enormous reluctance and said only, Promise me youll at least be nice to her, then.And Seldon said, Is it me you must treasure or her? I assure you that I didnt treat her harshly for sport and I wont do so in the future.The memory of this argument with Dors-their first-helped keep him awake a large part of the night that, together with the sound off thought that the two Sisters might not arrive in the morning, despite Raindrop Forty-Threes promise. They did arrive, however, not long after Seldon had completed a spare eat (he was determined not to grow fat through overindulgence) and had put on a kirtle that fitted him precisely. He had carefully organized the belt so that it hung perfectly.Raindrop Forty-Three, still with a touch of ice in her eye, said, if you are ready, Tribesman Seldon, my sister wil l remain with Tribeswoman Venabili. Her voice was neither twittery nor hoarse. It was as though she had steadied herself through the night, practicing, in her mind, how to speak to one who was a male but not a Brother.Seldon wondered if she had lost sleep and said, I am quite ready.Together, half an hour later, Raindrop Forty-Three and Hari Seldon were descending level upon level. Though it was daytime by the clock, the light was dusky and dimmer than it had been elsewhere on Trantor. There was no obvious reason for this. Surely, the artificial daylight that slowly progressed around the Trantorian discipline could include the Mycogen Sector. The Mycogenians must want it that way, Seldon thought, clinging to some primitive habit. Slowly Seldons eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings. Seldon tried to meet the eyes of passersby, whether Brothers or Sisters, calmly. He assumed he and Raindrop Forty-Three would be taken as a Brother and his woman and that they would be given no notice as long as he did nothing to attract attention.Unfortunately, it seemed as if Raindrop Forty-Three wanted to be notice. She talked to him in few words and in low tones out of a clenched mouth. It was clear that the company of an unauthorized male, even though only she knew this fact, raved her self-confidence. Seldon was quite sure that if he asked her to relax, he would classically make her that much more uneasy. (Seldon wondered what she would do if she met someone who knew her. He felt more relaxed once they reached the lower levels, where human beings were fewer.)The descent was not by elevators either, but by moving staired ramps that existed in pairs, one going up and one going down. Raindrop Forty-Three referred to them as escalators. Seldon wasnt sure he had caught the word correctly, never having heard it before.As they sank to lower and lower levels, Seldons apprehension grew. near worlds possessed microfarms and most worlds haved their own varieties of microproducts. Se ldon, back on Helicon, had occasionally shopped for seasonings in the microfarms and was always aware of an unpleasant rear-turning stench. The people who worked at the microfarms didnt seem to mind. steady when casual visitors wrinkled their noses, they seemed to acclimate themselves to it. Seldon, however, was always peculiarly susceptible to the smell. He suffered and he expected to suffer now. He tried soothing himself with the thought that he was nobly sacrificing his comfort to his need for information, but that didnt keep his stomach from turning itself into knots in apprehension.After he had lost track of the number of levels they had descended, with the air still seeming reasonably fresh, he asked, When do we get to the microfarm levels?Were there now.Seldon breathed deeply. It doesnt smell as though we are.Smell? What do you mean? Raindrop Forty-Three was offended enough to speak quite loudly.There was always a putrid odor associated with microfarms, in my experience. Yo u know, from the fertilizer that bacteria, yeast, fungi, and saprophytes broadly need.In your experience? Her voice lowered again. Where was that?On my home world.The Sister twisted her face into wild repugnance. And your people wallow in gabelle?Seldon had never heard the word before, but from the look and the intonation, he knew what it meant.He said, It doesnt smell like that, you understand, once it is ready for consumption.Ours doesnt smell like that at any time. Our biotechnicians have worked out perfect strains. The algae grow in the purest light and the most carefully balanced electrolyte solutions. The saprophytes are fed on beautifully combined organics. The formulas and recipes are something no tribespeople will ever know. Come on, here we are. Sniff all you want. Youll find nothing offensive. That is one reason wherefore our food is in demand throughout the Galaxy and why the Emperor, we are told, eats nothing else, though it is far too good for a tribesman if you ask me, even if he calls himself Emperor. She said it with an anger that seemed directly aimed at Seldon. Then, as though afraid he might miss that, she added, Or even if he calls himself an honored guest.They stepped out into a narrow corridor, on each side of which were large thick glass tanks in which irritated cloudy green water full of swirling, growing algae, moving about through the force of the gas bubbles that streamed up through it. They would be rich in carbon dioxide, he decided. Rich, rosy light shone down into the tanks, light that was much brighter than that in the corridors. He commented thoughtfully on that.Of course, she said. These algae work best at the red end of the spectrum.I presume, said Seldon, that everything is automated.She shrugged, but did not respond.I dont see quantities of Brothers and Sisters in evidence, Seldon said, persisting.Nevertheless, there is work to be done and they do it, even if you dont see them at work. The details are not for you. Dont waste your time by asking about it.Wait. Dont be angry with me. I dont expect to be told state secrets. Come on, dear. (The word slipped out.)He took her arm as she seemed on the point of hurrying away. She remained in place, but he felt her shudder slightly and he released her in embarrassment. He said, Its just that it seems automated.Make what you wish of the seeming. Nevertheless, there is room here for human brains and human judgment. Every Brother and Sister has occasion to work here at some time. Some make a handicraft of it.She was speaking more freely now but, to his continuing embarrassment, he noticed her left hand move stealthily toward her right arm and softly rub the spot where he had touched her, as though he had stung her. It goes on for kilometers and kilometers, she said, but if we turn here therell he a portion of the fungal section you can see.They moved along. Seldon noted how piece everything was. The glass sparkled. The tiled floor seemed moist, though when he seized a number to bend and touch it, it wasnt. Nor was it slippery-unless his sandals (with his big toe protruding in canonic Mycogenian fashion) had nonslip soles. Raindrop Forty-Three was right in one respect. Here and there a Brother or a Sister worked silently, studying gauges, adjusting chequers, sometimes engaged in something as unskilled as polishing equipment-always thoughtless in whatever they were doing.Seldon was careful not to ask what they were doing, since he did not want to cause the Sister humiliation in having to answer that she did not know or anger in her having to remind him there were things he must not know. They passed through a lightly swinging door and Seldon suddenly noticed the faintest touch of the odor he remembered. He looked at Raindrop Forty-Three, but she seemed unconscious of it and soon he too became used to it. The character of the light changed suddenly. The rosiness was gone and the brightness too. All seemed to be in a twilight except where equipment was brillianceed and wherever there was a spotlight there seemed to be a Brother or a Sister. Some wore lighted headbands that gleamed with a pearly glow and, in the middle distance, Seldon could see, here and there, small sparks of light moving erratically.As they walked, he cast a quick eye on her profile. It was all he could really prove by. At all other times, he could not cease being conscious of her bulging brassy head, her bare eyes, her colorless face. They drowned her individuality and seemed to make her invisible. Here in profile, however, he could see something. Nose, chin, full lips, regularity, beauty. The dim light somehow smoothed out and softened the great upper desert.He thought with surprise She could be very beautiful if she grew her hair and position it nicely. And then he thought that she couldnt grow her hair. She would be bald her whole life. Why? Why did they have to do that to her? Sunmaster said it was so that a Mycogenian would know him self (or herself) for a Mycogenian all his (or her) life. Why was that so important that the maledict of hairlessness had to be accepted as a badge or mark of identity?And then, because he was used to arguing both sides in his mind, he thought Custom is second nature. Be accustomed to a bald head, sufficiently accustomed, and hair on it would seem monstrous, would evoke nausea. He himself had shaved his face every morning, removing all the facial hair, uncomfortable at the merest stubble, and yet he did not think of his face as bald or as being in any way unnatural. Of course, he could grow his facial hair at any time he wished-but he didnt wish to do so.He knew that there were worlds on which the men did not shave in some, they did not even clip or shape the facial hair but let it grow wild. What would they say if they could see his own bald face, his own hairless chin, cheek, and lips? And meanwhile, he walked with Raindrop Forty-Three-endlessly, it seemed-and every once in a whi le she guided him by the jostle and it seemed to him that she had grown accustomed to that, for she did not withdraw her hand hastily. Sometimes it remained for tight a minute.She said, Here Come hereWhat is that? asked Seldon.They were standing before a small tray filled with little spheres, each about two centimeters in diameter. A Brother who was tending the area and who had just placed the tray where it was looked up in mild inquiry.Raindrop Forty-Three said to Seldon in a low voice, Ask for a few.Seldon realized she could not speak to a Brother until spoken to and said uncertainly, May we have a few, B-brother?Have a handful, Brother, said the other heartily.Seldon plucked out one of the spheres and was on the point of handing it to Raindrop Forty-Three when he noticed that she had accepted the invitation as applying to herself and reached in for two handfuls. The sphere felt glossy, smooth. Seldon said to Raindrop Forty-Three as they moved away from the vat and from the Brot her who was in attendance, Are these supposed to be eaten? He lifted the sphere cautiously to his nose.They dont smell, she said sharply.What are they?Dainties. Raw dainties. For the outside market theyre flavored in different ways, but here in Mycogen we eat them unflavored-the only way. She put one in her mouth and said, I never have enough.Seldon put his sphere into his mouth and felt it dissolve and unfreeze rapidly. His mouth, for a moment, ran liquid and then it slid, almost of its own accord, down his throat.He stood for a moment, amazed. It was slightly sweet and, for that matter, had an even fainter bitter aftertaste, but the main sensation eluded him. May I have another? he said.Have half a dozen, said Raindrop Forty-Three, holding out her hand. They never have quite the same taste twice and have practically no calories. Just taste.She was right. He tried to have the dainty linger in his mouth he tried licking it carefully tried acid off a piece. However, the most carefu l lick destroyed it. When a bit was crunched off apiece, the rest of it disappeared at once. And each taste was undefined and not quite like the one before.The only trouble is, said the Sister happily, that every once in a while you have a very unusual one and you never forget it, but you never have it again either. I had one when I was nine- Her reflectivity suddenly lost its excitement and she said, Its a good thing. It teaches you the evanescence of things of the world.It was a signal, Seldon thought. They had wandered about aimlessly long enough. She had grown used to him and was talking to him. And now the colloquy had to come to its point. Now44.Seldon said, I come from a world which lies out in the open, Sister, as all worlds do but Trantor. Rain comes or doesnt come, the rivers trickle or are in flood, temperature is high or low. That means harvests are good or bad. Here, however, the environment is truly controlled. Harvests have no choice but to be good. How fortunate M ycogen is.He waited. There were different possible answers and his course of action would depend on which answer came.She was speaking quite freely now and seemed to have no inhibitions concerning his masculinity, so this long tour had served its purpose. Raindrop Forty-Three said, The environment is not that easy to control. There are, occasionally, viral infections and there are sometimes unexpected and undesirable mutations. There are times when whole vast batches wither or are worthless.You vex me. And what happens then?There is usually no recourse but to destroy the spoiled batches, even those that are merely suspected of spoilage. Trays and tanks must be totally sterilized, sometimes disposed of altogether.It amounts to surgery, then, said Seldon. You cut out the morbid tissue.Yes.And what do you do to prevent such things from happening?What can we do? We test constantly for any mutations that may spring up, any new viruses that may appear, any accidental contamination or al teration of the environment. It seldom happens that we detect anything wrong, but if we do, we take drastic action. The result is that bad years are very few and even bad years push only fractional bits here and there. The worst year weve ever had flee short of the average by only 12 percent-though that was enough to produce hardship. The trouble is that even the most careful forethought and the most modishly designed computer programs cant always predict what is essentially unpredictable.(Seldon felt an unvoluntary shudder go through him. It was as though she was speaking of psychohistory-but she was only speaking of the microfarm produce of a tiny fraction of humanity, while he himself was considering all the mighty Galactic Empire in every one of all its activities.) Unavoidably disheartened, he said, Surely, its not all unpredictable. There are forces that guide and that care for us all.The Sister stiffened. She turned around toward him, seeming to study him with her penetra ting eyes. But all she said was What?Seldon felt uneasy. It seems to me that in speaking of viruses and mutations, were talking about the natural, about phenomena that are subject to natural law. That leaves out of account the supernatural, doesnt it? It leaves out that which is not subject to natural law and can, therefore, control natural law.She continued to stare at him, as though he had suddenly begun speaking some distant, unknown dialect of Galactic Standard. Again she said, in half a whisper this time, Wharf.He continued, stumbling over unfamiliar words that half-embarrassed him. You must appeal to some great essence, some great spirit, some I dont know what to call it.Raindrop Forty-Three said in a voice that rose into higher registers but remained low, I thought so. I thought that was what you meant, but I couldnt believe it. Youre accusing us of having religion. Why didnt you say so? Why didnt you use the word?She waited for an answer and Seldon, a little confused at the onslaught, said, Because thats not a word I use. I call it supernaturalism. Call it what you will. Its religion and we dont have it. Religion is for the tribesmen, for the swarming ho-The Sister paused to swallow as though she had come near to choking and Seldon was certain the word she had choked over was-She was in control again. Speaking slowly and somewhat below her normal soprano, she said, We are not a religious people. Our kingdom is of this Galaxy and always has been. If you have a religion-Seldon felt trapped. Somehow he had not counted on this. He raised a hand defensively. Not really. Im a mathematician and my kingdom is also of this Galaxy. Its just that I thought, from the rigidity of your customs, that your kingdom-Dont think it, tribesman. If our customs are rigid, it is because we are mere millions surrounded by billions. Somehow we must mark ourselves off so that we precious few are not lost among your swarms and hordes. We must be marked off by our hairlessness, ou r clothing, our behavior, our way of life. We must know who we are and we must be sure that you tribesmen know who we are. We labor in our farms so that we can make ourselves valuable in your eyes and thus make certain that you leave us alone. Thats all we ask of you to leave us alone.I have no intention of harming you or any of your people. I seek only knowledge, here as everywhere.So you insult us by asking about our religion, as though we have ever called on a mysterious, insubstantial spirit to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.There are many people, many worlds who believe in supernaturalism in one form or another religion, if you like the word better. We may disagree with them in one way or another, but we are as likely to be wrong in our hesitation as they in their belief. In any case, there is no bring low in such belief and my questions were not intended as insults.But she was not reconciled. Religion she said angrily. We have no need of it.Seldons spirits, having sink steadily in the course of this exchange, reached bottom. This whole thing, this expedition with Raindrop Forty-Three, had come to nothing.But she went on to say, We have something far better. We have history.And Seldons feelings rebounded at once and he smiled.