Foundation's Edge by Isaac Asimov Page A

gentlemen!”
    The sky was grooving light, though sunrise was still half an hour off.
    Trevize looked about. “Is my baggage loaded?”
    “Yes, Councilman, you will find the ship fully equipped.”
    “With clothing, I suppose, that is not my size or to my taste.”
    The guard smiled, quite suddenly and almost boyishly. “I think it is,” he said. “The Mayor had us working overtime these last thirty or forty hours and we’ve matched what you had closely. Money no object. Listen,” he looked about as though to make sure no one noticed his sudden fraternization, “you two are lucky. Best ship in the world. Fully equipped, except for armament. You’re swimming in cream.”
    “Sour cream, possibly,” said Trevize. “Well, Professor, are you ready?”
    “With this I am,” Pelorat said and held up a square wafer about twenty centimeters to the side and encased in a jacket of silvery plastic. Trevize was suddenly aware that Pelorat had been holding it since they had left his home, shifting it from hand to hand and never putting it down, even when they had stopped for a quick breakfast.
    “What’s that, Professor?”
    “My library. It’s indexed by subject matter and origin and I’ve gotten it all into one wafer. If you think this ship is a marvel, how about this wafer? A whole library! Everything I have collected! Wonderful! Wonderful!”
    “Well,” said Trevize, “we are swimming in cream.”
    Trevize marveled at the inside of the ship. The utilization of space was ingenious. There was a storeroom, with supplies of food, clothing, films, and games. There was a gym, a parlor, and two nearly identical bedrooms.
    “This one,” said Trevize, “must be yours, Professor. At least, it contains an FX Reader.”
    “Good,” said Pelorat with satisfaction. “What an ass I have been to avoid space flight as I have. I could live here, my dear Trevize, in utter satisfaction.”
    “Roomier than I expected,” said Trevize with pleasure.
    “And the engines are really in the hull, as you said?”
    “The controlling devices are, at any rate. We don’t have to store fuel or make use of it on the spot. We’re making use of the fundamental energy store of the Universe, so that the fuel and the engines are all-out there.” He gestured vaguely.
    “Well, now that I think of it-what if something goes wrong?”
    Trevize shrugged. “I’ve been trained in space navigation, but not on these ships. If something goes wrong with the gravitics, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it.”
    “But can you run this ship? Pilot it?”
    “I’m wondering that myself.”
    Pelorat said, “Do you suppose this is an automated ship? Might we not merely be passengers? We might simply be expected to sit here.”
    “They have such things in the case of ferries between planets and space stations within a stellar system, but I never heard of automated hyperspace travel. At least, not so far. -Not so far.”
    He looked about again and there was a trickle of apprehension within him. Had that harridan Mayor managed to maneuver that far ahead of him? Had the Foundation automated interstellar travel, too, and was he going to be deposited on Trantor quite against his will, and with no more to say about it than any of the rest of the furniture aboard ship?
    He said with a cheerful animation he didn’t feel, “Professor, you sit down. The Mayor said this ship was completely computerized. If your room has the FX Reader, mine ought to have a computer in it. Make yourself comfortable and let me look around a bit on my own.
    Pelorat looked instantly anxious. “Trevize, my dear chap- You’re not getting off the ship, are you?”
    “Not my plan at all, Professor. And if I tried, you can count on my being stopped. It is not the Mayor’s intention to allow me off. All I’m planning to do is to learn what operates the Far Star.” He smiled, “I won’t desert you, Professor.”
    He was still smiling as he entered, what he felt to be his