Foundation and Earth by Isaac Asimov Page B

something utterly different from anything in history—Galaxia.
And he himself had agreed to that
.
    But why? Was there a flaw in the Plan? A basic flaw?
    For one flashing moment, it seemed to Trevize that this flaw did indeed exist and that he knew what it was, that he had known what it was when he made his decision—but the knowledge … if that were what it was … vanished as fast as it came, and it left him with nothing.
    Perhaps it was all only an illusion; both when he had made his decision, and now. After all, he knew nothing about the Plan beyond the basic assumptions that validated psychohistory. Apart from that, he knew no detail, and certainly not a single scrap of its mathematics.
    He closed his eyes and thought—
    There was nothing.
    Might it be the added power he received from the computer? He placed his hands on the desk top and felt the warmth of the computer’s hands embracing them. He closed his eyes and once more he thought—
    There was still nothing.
12.
    THE COMPORELLIAN WHO BOARDED THE SHIP wore a holographic identity card. It displayed his chubby, lightly bearded face with remarkable fidelity, and underneath it was his name, A. Kendray.
    He was rather short, and his body was as softly rounded as his face was. He had a fresh and easygoing look and manner, and he stared about the ship with clear amazement.
    He said, “How did you get down this fast? We weren’t expecting you for two hours.”
    “It’s a new-model ship,” said Trevize, with noncommittal politeness.
    Kendray was not quite the young innocent he looked, however. He stepped into the pilot-room and said at once, “Gravitic?”
    Trevize saw no point in denying anything that was apparently that obvious. He said tonelessly, “Yes.”
    “Very interesting. You hear of them, but you never see them somehow. Motors in the hull?”
    “That’s so.”
    Kendray looked at the computer. “Computer circuits, likewise?”
    “That’s so. Anyway, I’m told so. I’ve never looked.”
    “Oh well. What I need is the ship’s documentation; engine number, place of manufacture, identification code, the whole patty-cake. It’s all in the computer, I’m sure, and it can probably turn out the formal card I need in half a second.”
    It took very little more than that. Kendray looked about again. “You three all the people on board?”
    Trevize said, “That’s right.”
    “Any live animals? Plants? State of health?”
    “No. No. And good,” said Trevize crisply.
    “Um!” said Kendray, making notes. “Could you put your hand in here? Just routine. —Right hand, please.”
    Trevize looked at the device without favor. It was being used more and more commonly, and was growing quickly more elaborate. You could almost tell the backwardness of a world at a glance by the backwardness of its microdetector. There were now few worlds, however backward, that didn’t have one at all. The start had come with the final breakup of the Empire, as each fragment of the whole grew increasingly anxious to protect itself from the diseases and alien microorganisms of all the others.
    “What is that?” asked Bliss, in a low and interested voice, craning her head to see it first on one side, then the other.
    Pelorat said, “A microdetector, I believe they call it.”
    Trevize added, “It’s nothing mysterious. It’s a device that automatically checks a portion of your body, insideand out, for any microorganism capable of transmitting disease.”
    “This will classify the microorganisms, too,” said Kendray, with rather more than a hint of pride. “It’s been worked out right here on Comporellon. —And if you don’t mind, I still want your right hand.”
    Trevize inserted his right hand, and watched as a series of small red markings danced along a set of horizontal lines. Kendray touched a contact and a facsimile in color appeared at once. “If you’ll sign that, sir,” he said.
    Trevize did so. “How badly off am I?” he asked. “I’m not