Seldon looked with some distress at their quarters. It had a small but individual kitchen and a small but individual bathroom. There were two narrow beds, two clothes closets, a table, and two chairs. In short there was everything that was necessary for two people who were willing to live under cramped conditions.

“We had an individual kitchen and bathroom at Cinna,” said Dors with an air of resignation.

“Not I,” said Seldon. “Helicon may be a small world, but I lived in a modern city. Community kitchens and bathrooms. —What a waste this is. You might expect it in a hotel, where one is compelled to make a temporary stay, but if the whole sector is like this, imagine the enormous number and duplications of kitchens and bathrooms.”

“Part of the egalitarianism, I suppose,” said Dors. “No fighting for favored stalls or for faster service. The same for everyone.”

“No privacy either. Not that I mind terribly, Dors, but you might and I don’t want to give the appearance of taking advantage. We ought to make it clear to them that we must have separate rooms—adjoining but separate.”

Dors said, “I’m sure it won’t work. Space is at a premium and I think they are amazed by their own generosity in giving us this much. We’ll just make do, Hari. We’re each old enough to manage. I’m not a blushing maiden and you’ll never convince me that you’re a callow youth.”

“You wouldn’t be here, were it not for me.”

“What of it? It’s an adventure.”

“All right, then. Which bed will you take? Why don’t you take the one nearer the bathroom?” He sat down on the other. “There’s something else that bothers me. As long as we’re here, we’re tribespeople, you and I, as is even Hummin. We’re of the other tribes, not their own cohorts, and most things are none of our business. —But most things are my business. That’s what I’ve come here for. I want to know some of the things they know.”

“Or think they know,” said Dors with a historian’s skepticism. “I understand they have legends that are supposed to date back to primordial times, but I can’t believe they can be taken seriously.”

“We can’t know that until we find out what those legends are. Are there no outside records of them?”

“Not that I know of. These people are terribly ingrown. They’re almost psychotic in their inward clinging. That Hummin can break down their barriers somewhat and even get them to take us in is remarkable—really remarkable.”

Seldon brooded. “There has to be an opening somewhere. Sunmaster was surprised—angry, in fact—that I didn’t know Mycogen was an agricultural community. That seems to be something they don’t want kept a secret.”

“The point is, it isn’t a secret. ‘Mycogen’ is supposed to be from archaic words meaning ‘yeast producer.’ At least, that’s what I’ve been told. I’m not a paleolinguist. In any case, they culture all varieties of microfood—yeast, of course,