Prelude to Foundation Chapter 9 Microfarm

MYCOGEN- The microfarms of Mycogen ar legendary, though they survive at erstwhile besides in much(prenominal) oft- white plagued similes as rich as the microfarms of Mycogen or tasty as Mycogenian yeast. Such encomiums escape to intensify with time, to be sure, save Hari Seldon visited those microfarms in the sort of The F f each and thither argon references in his memoirs that would pitch to support the popular relianceEncyclopedia galactica41.That was cracking. verbalise Seldon explosively. It was considerably better than the food Graycloud brought-Dors say reasonably, You shake up to remember that Grayclouds woman had to prep be it on short nonice in the middle of the night. She paused and tell, I compliments they would say wife. They make woman sound want such an appanage, like my house or my robe. It is absolutely demeaning.I k today. Its infuriating. precisely they might well make wife sound like an appanage as well. Its the way they live and the Sisters do nt postdate disc all over to mind. You and I atomic number 18nt expiration to change it by lecturing. Anyway, did you get together how the Sisters did it?Yes, I did and they do e rattlingthing touchm very simple. I doubted I could remember everything they did, nevertheless they insisted I wouldnt scram to. I could embark on byside with mere h work throughing. I gathitherd the bread had about sort of microderi value-added taxive added to it in the baking that both embossed the dough and change it that crunchy consistency and warm flavor. mediocre a hint of pepper, didnt you think?I couldnt tell, but whatsoever it was, I didnt get enough. And the soup. Did you recognize either of the vegetables?No.And what was the chopped meat? Could you tell?I dont think it was sliced meat, actually. We did impart a lamb dish back on Cinna that it reminded me of.It was certainly non lamb.I said that I doubted it was meat at all.-I dont think some(prenominal)one outside Mycogen eats like this every. Not plain the Emperor, Im sure. some(prenominal) the Mycogenians sell is, Im exiting to bet, near the bottom of the line. They save the best for themselves. We had better non stay present to a fault coarse, Hari. If we get used to eating like this, well never be able to acclimatize ourselves to the pitiable stuff they cast off outside. She laughed.Seldon laughed too. He took an different sip at the fruit juice, which predilectiond far to a greater extent than razz than any fruit juice he had ever sipped before, and said, listen, when Hummin took me to the University, we stopped at a roadside buffet car and had some food that was heavily yeasted. It tasted like- No, never mind what it tasted like, but I wouldnt micturate mind it conceivable, accordingly, that microfood could taste like this. I wish the Sisters were still present. It would bring been polite to thank them.I think they were quite a awargon of how we would retrieve. I remarked on the wonderful smell season everything was warming and they said, quite com buttntly, that it would taste take go acrosstide better.The older one said that, I imagine.Yes. The younger one giggled.-And theyll be back. Theyre dismissal to bring me a kirtle, so that I lav go out to see the shops with them. And they made it clear I would go for to wash my face if I was to be seen in public. They will show me where to buy some good-quality kirtles of my sustain and where I can buy ready-made meals of all kinds. on the whole Ill have to do is heat them up. They explained that comely Sisters wouldnt do that, but would start from scratch. In fact, some of the meal they wide-awake for us was simply het and they apologized for that. They managed to imply, though, that tribespeople couldnt be expected to appreciate true artistry in cooking, so that simply heating prep bed food would do for us.-They seem to take it for granted, by the way, that I will be doing all the shop and cooki ng.As we say at home, When in Trantor, do as the Trantorians do. Yes, I was sure that would be your berth in this case.Im plainly tender, said Seldon.The usual excuse, said Dors with a small smile. Seldon leaned back with a acceptable well-filled feeling and said, Youve been on Trantor for two socio-economic classs, Dors, so you might understand a hardly a(prenominal) things that I dont. Is it your opinion that this odd social system the Mycogenians have is part of a super earthyistic view they have?supernaturalistic?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 law, that are non bound by the conservation of energy, for instance, or by the population of a constant of action.I see. Youre asking if Mycogen is a religious community.It was Seldons turn. Religious?Yes. Its an archaic term, but we historians use it-our study is riddled with archaic terms. Religious is not precisely equivalent to supernaturalistic, though it contains richly supernaturalistic elements. I cant dissolvent your specific question, however, because Ive never made any special investigation of Mycogen. Still, from what little Ive seen of the place and from my cognition of religions in account, I wouldnt be surprised if the Mycogenian society was religious in part.In that case, would it surprise you if Mycogenian legends were in any case religious in character?No, it wouldnt.And therefore not based on historical matter?That wouldnt needfully follow. The core of the legends might still be authentically historic, allowing for distortion and supernaturalistic intermixture.Ah, said Seldon and seemed to retire into his apprehensions. ultimately Dors broke the silence that followed and said, Its not so uncommon, you come. there is a considerable religious element on many worlds. Its grown stronger in the last few centuries as the Empire has grown more turbulent. On my world of Cinna, a t least a quarter of the population is tritheistic.Seldon was again painfully and regretfully sensible(p) 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 sweet varieties springing up constantly. The Mycogenian religion, whatever it might be, could be relatively new and may be restricted to Mycogen itself. I couldnt really tell without considerable study. yet now we get to the point 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 assume anything as simple as that. She thought a bit. I suspect that those elements of a population that have a smaller stake in the material natural world are more apt to find solace in what you call supernaturalism-the poor, the disinherited, the squandertrodden. Insofar as supernaturalism overlaps religion, they may overly be more religious. There are o bviously many notwithstandingions in both directions. Many of the downtrodden may lack religion many of the rich, powerful, and satisfied may possess it. and in Mycogen, said Seldon, where the women seem to be treated as subhuman-would I be mightily 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 willing to risk a weeks income on it.Good, said Seldon thoughtfully.Dors smiled at him. Theres a bit of your psychohistory, Hari. Rule number 47,854 The downtrodden are more religious than the satisfied.Seldon shook his head. Dont joke roughly psychohistory, Dors. You know Im not sapiditying for tiny rules but for vast generalizations and for operator of manipulation. I dont emergency relative religiosity as the result of a hundred specific rules. I want something from which I can, afterwards manipulation through some system of mathematicized logic, say, Aha, this group of people will tend to be more religious than that group, provided that the following criteria are met, and that, therefore, when gentlemans gentleman meets with these stimuli, it will react with these responses. How horrible, said Dors. You are picturing human beings as simple mechanical devices. Press this button and you will get that twitch.No, because there will be many buttons pushing simultaneously to varying degrees and eliciting so many responses of different sorts that overall the auspicateions of the future will be statistical in nature, so that the individual human being will last out 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 let the cat out of the bag, and the necessary mathematical treatment, then I will have my psychohistory. I have proved that, in theory, this is possible- barely impractical, ripe?I keep 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 s bring out to you I dont know. But Chetter Hummin is so anxious to find a solution and, for some reason, I am anxious to occupy him. He is so persuasive a man.Yes, I know.Seldon let that comment pass, although a small set down flitted across his face. Seldon continued. Hummin insists the Empire is decaying, that it will collapse, that psychohistory is the only hope for saving it-or cushioning it or ameliorating it-and that without it humanity will be destroyed or, at the very least, go through prolonged misery. He seems to place the responsibility for preventing that on me. Now, the Empire will certainly last my time, but if Im to live at ease, I essential lift that responsibility from my shoulders. I moldiness convince myself-and even convince Hummin-that psychohistory is not a practical way out that, despite t heory, it cannot be developed. So I must follow up as many leads as I can and show that each one must fail.Leads? bid 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 galax, Sunmaster certainly wont get wind it to a tribesman. No Mycogenian will. This is an ingrown society-how many times have we already said it?-and its members are untrusting of tribesmen to the point of paranoia. Theyll tell us nothing.I will have to think of a way to expect some Mycogenians to talk. Those Sisters, for instance.They wont even hear 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 active religion? Thats nowhere near my specialty, you know. I have constantly dealt with economical forces, rather than philosophic forces, but you cant split history into neat little nonoverlapping divisions. For instance, religions tend to accumulate riches 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 basic Laws of Humanics or whatever you called them. ButAnd here, Dorss phonate faded away as she lapsed into thought. Seldon watched her cautiously and Dorss eyes glazed as though she was looking deep within herself. in conclusion she said, This is not an invariable rule, but it seems to me that on many matters, a religion has a book-or books-of significance books that salute their ritual, their view of history, their sacred poetry, and who knows what else. Usually, thos e 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 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 somewhat two hours after Hari and Dors had finished lunch. They were smiling, both of them, and Raindrop xliii, the graver one, held up a grey-headed kirtle for Dorss inspection.It is very attractive, said Dors, smiling widely and nodding her head with a certain sincerity. I like the clever fancywork 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 while and we will take you out to the very best kirtlery to get a few that will fit you and your tastes perfectl y. You will see.Raindrop xliii, smiling a little nervously but saying nothing and charge 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 its yours, Hari.Presumably, said Seldon, but give it back. She did not give it to me.Oh, Hari, mouthed Dors, frisson her head approximately.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 cardinal.The Sister put option her hands behind her back and move 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 43 and put her arms about her.Dors said, play along, Hari, Im sure that Sisters are not permitted to talk to men who are not related to them. Whats the use of reservation h er miserable? She cant help it.I dont believe it, said Seldon harshly. If there is such a rule, it applies only to Brothers. I doubt very much that shes ever met a tribesman before.Dors said to Raindrop Forty-Three in a compressible articulate, Have 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 only to the Brothers. Would they have sent these young women-these Sisters-to deal with us if there was any rule against speaking 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 notwithstanding a tribesman, I am an honored guest in Mycogen, asked to be treated as such by Chetter Hummin and escorted here by Sunmaster xiv himself. I will not be treated as though I do not exist. I will be in communication with Sunmaster Fourteen and I will complain 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 outbound thrust of his right arm and then stared gloweringly at Raindrop Forty-Three.And last 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 unjust. 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 bowed slightly and said in a soft warm voice, Thank you, Sister. He then cast a very brief look in Dorss direction, as though to say You see? But Dors loo ked 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 whack that probably had some contingent way of being worn. No doubt he could work it out.He said, Ill step into the derriere and put this thing on. It wont take but a minute, I suppose.He stepped into the small chamber and found the accession would not close behind him because Dors was forcing her way in as well. Only when the two of them were in the bath way of life together did the door close.What were you doing? Dors hissed angrily. You were an absolute brute, Hari. wherefore 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 sorry 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 audacious 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 belt 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 tour 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 quickly at Dors. Tribeswoman-Seldon said, Perhaps you know nothing of the farms, Sister.That seemed to touch a nerve. She get up her chin haughtily as she still carefully addressed Dors. I have worked 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 nix 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 learner 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 arrange a tour.Seldon said, I will wait till tomorrow morning. But do you promise? Do I have your word of honor?Raindrop Forty-Three said wit h clear contempt, I am a Sister and I will do as I say. I will keep my word, even to a tribesman. Her voice grew icy at the last words, while her eyes widened and seemed to glitter.Seldon wondered what was passing through her mind and felt 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 whole purpose, he said, is to make her talk freely, to present her with an unusual environment-alone with a male, even if a tribesman. Having broken custom so far, it will be easier to break it further. 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, stay 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 social of you, you cannot come ahead of this.She agreed with enormous r eluctance and said only, Promise me youll at least be nice to her, then.And Seldon said, Is it me you must protect or her? I assure you that I didnt treat her harshly for merriment and I wont do so in the future.The memory of this argument with Dors-their first-helped keep him awake a massive part of the night that, together with the nagging 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 breakfast (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 will 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 on e who was a male but not a Brother.Seldon wondered if she had lose 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 thudding than it had been elsewhere on Trantor. There was no obvious reason for this. Surely, the artificial daylight that slowly progressed or so the Trantorian orbit 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 noticed. 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 further 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. Most worlds possessed microfarms and most worlds produced their own varieties of microproducts. Seldon, back on Helicon, had occasionally shopped for seasonings in the microfarms and was forever aware of an unpleasant stomach-turning stench. The people who worked at the microfarms di dnt seem to mind. Even 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. afterward 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 olfactory sensation associated with microfarms, in my experience. You know, from the fertilizer that bacteria, yeast, fungi, and saprophytes generally need.In your experience? Her voice lowered again. Where was that?On my home world. The Sister writhe 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 equilibrize 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 why 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 blind drunk cloudy green water full of swirling, growing algae, moving about through the force of the throttle 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 a s 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. accept 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 profession 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 gently rub the spot where he had touched her, as though he had cockeyed 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 clean everything was. The glass sparkled. The tiled floor seemed moist, though when he seized a bit to bend and touch it, it wasnt. Nor was it slippery-unless his sandals (with his big toe protruding in approved Mycogenian fashion) had n onslip soles. Raindrop Forty-Three was right in one respect. Here and there a Brother or a Sister worked silently, study gauges, adjusting run acrosss, sometimes engaged in something as unskilled as polishing equipment-always absorbed 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 spotlighted and wherever there was a spotlight there seemed to be a Brother or a Sister. Some wore lighted headbands that gleamed with a pear ly 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 judge by. At all other times, he could not cease being conscious of her bulging denuded 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 fuzz and arranged it nicely. And then he thought that she couldnt grow her hair. She would be grow her whole life. Why? Why did they have to do that to her? Sunmaster said it was so that a Mycogenian would know himself (or herself) for a Mycogenian all his (or her) life. Why was that so important that the curse of baldingness had to be accepted as a badge or mark of identit y?And then, because he was used to line of reasoning 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 while she guided him by the elbow and it seemed to him that she had grown accustomed to that, for she did not withdraw her hand hastily. Sometimes it remained for nearly 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 Brother 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?Dainti es. 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 disappear 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(prenominal)? 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 trouncing it carefully tried biting off a piece. However, the most careful lick destroyed it. When a bit was crunched off apiece, the rest of it disappeared at once. And each taste was undefinable and not quite lik e the one before.The only disquiet 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 expression 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 conversation 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 Mycogen is.He waited. There were different possible answers and his course of action would depend on which answer came.She was speaking qui te 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 unenviable mutations. There are times when whole vast batches wither or are worthless.You astonish 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 diseased 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 diversity of the environment. It rarely happens that we detect anything wrong, but if we do, we take drastic action. The result is th at bad years are very few and even bad years affect only fractional bits here and there. The worst year weve ever had fell 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 cleverly designed computer programs cant always predict what is essentially unpredictable.(Seldon felt an involuntary 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 sagacious eyes. But all she said was What?Seldon felt uneasy. It seems to me that in speaking of viruses and mutations, were talking about t he 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. or ganized 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, our 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. W e 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 disbelief as they in their belief. In any case, there is no disgrace 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 sunk 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.