COLLISION

1.

Stor Gendibal was edging toward gaia almost as cautiously as Trevize had—and now that its star was a perceptible disc and could be viewed only through strong filters, he paused to consider.

Sura Novi sat to one side, looking up at him now and then in a timorous manner.

She said softly, “Master?”

“What is it, Novi?” he asked abstractedly.

“Are you unhappy?”

He looked up at her quickly. “No. Concerned. Remember that word? I am trying to decide whether to move in quickly or to wait longer. Shall I be very brave, Novi?”

“I think you are very brave all times, Master.”

“To be brave is sometimes to be foolish.”

Novi smiled. “How can a master scholar be foolish? —That is a sun, is it not, Master?” She pointed to the screen.

Gendibal nodded.

Novi said, after an irresolute pause, “Is it the sun that shines on Trantor? Is it the Hamish sun?”

Gendibal said, “No, Novi. It is a far different sun. There are many suns, billions of them.”

“Ah! I have known this with my head. I could not make myself believe, however. How is it, Master, that one can know with the head—and yet not believe?”

Gendibal smiled faintly, “In your head, Novi—” he began and, automatically, as he said that, he found himself in her head. He stroked it gently, as he always did, when he found himself there—just a soothing touch of mental tendrils to keep her calm and untroubled—and he would then have left again, as he always did, had not something drawn him back.

What he sensed was indescribable in any but mentalic terms, but metaphorically, Novi’s brain glowed. It was the faintest possible glow.

It would not be there except for the existence of a mentalic field imposed from without—a mentalic field of an intensity so small that the finest receiving function of Gendibal’s own well-trained mind could just barely detect it, even against the utter smoothness of Novi’s mentalic structure.

He said sharply, “Novi, how do you feel?”

Her eyes opened wide. “I feel well, Master.”

“Are you dizzy, confused? Close your eyes and sit absolutely still until I say, ‘Now.’ ”

Obediently she closed her eyes. Carefully Gendibal brushed away all extraneous sensations from her mind, quieted her thoughts, soothed her emotions, stroked—stroked—He left nothing but the glow and it was so faint that he could almost persuade himself it was not there.

“Now,” he said and Novi opened her eyes.

“How do you feel, Novi?”

“Very calm, Master. Rested.”

It was clearly too feeble for it to have any noticeable effect on her.

He turned to the computer and wrestled with it. He had to admit to himself that he and the computer did not mesh very well together. Perhaps it was because he was too used to using his mind directly to be able to work through an intermediary. But he was looking for a ship, not a mind, and the initial search could be