Seldons eyes shifted briefly. The man to his right was rather thin and seemed quite old. He had dark brown eyes and a swarthy complexion, and Seldon was sure that he would have had black hair if he had not been depilated. He faced front again, thinking. This Brother was rather atypical. The few Brothers he had paid any attention to had been rather tall, light-skinned, and with blue or gray eyes. Of course, he had not seen enough of them to make a general rule.
Then there was a light touch on the right sleeve of his kirtle. Seldon turned hesitantly and found himself looking at a card on which was written lightly, CAREFUL, TRIBESMAN!
Seldon started and put a hand to his skincap automatically. The man next to him silently mouthed, "Hair."
Seldons hand found it, a tiny exposure of bristles at his temple. He must have disturbed the skincap at some point or another. Quickly and as unobtrusively as possible, he tugged the skincap, then made sure that it was snug under the pretence of stroking his head.
He turned to his neighbor on his right, nodded slightly, and mouthed, "Thank you."
His neighbor smiled and said in a normal speaking voice, "Going to the Sacratorium?"
Seldon nodded. "Yes, I am."
"Easy guess. So am I. Shall we get off together?" His smile was friendly.
"Im with my--my--"
"With your woman. Of course. All three together, then?"
Seldon was not sure how to react. A quick look in the other direction showed him that Dorss eyes were turned straight ahead. She was showing no interest in masculine conversation--an attitude appropriate for a Sister. However, Seldon felt a soft pat on his left knee, which he took (with perhaps little justification) to mean: "Its all right."
In any case, his natural sense of courtesy was on that side and he said, "Yes, certainly."
There was no further conversation until the direction plaque told them they were arriving at the Sacratorium and Seldons Mycogenian friend was rising to get off.
The gravi-bus made a wide turn about the perimeter of a large area of the Sacratorium grounds and there was a general exodus when it came to a halt, the men sliding in front of the women to exit first. The women followed.
The Mycogenians voice crackled a bit with age, but it was cheerful. He said, "Its a little early for lunch my ... friends, but take my word for it that things will be crowded in not too long a time. Would you be willing to buy something simple now and eat it outside? I am very familiar with this area and I know a good place."
Seldon wondered if this was a device to maneuver innocent tribespeople into something or other disreputable or costly, yet decided to chance it. "Youre very kind," he said. "Since we are not at all familiar with the place, we will be glad to let you take the lead."
They bought lunch--sandwiches and a beverage that looked like milk--at an open-air stand. Since it was a beautiful day and they were visitors, the old Mycogenian said, they would go to the Sacratorium grounds and eat out of doors, the better to become acquainted with their surroundings.
During their walk, carrying their lunch, Seldon noted that, on a very small scale, the Sacratorium resembled the Imperial Palace and that the grounds around it resembled, on a minute scale, the Imperial grounds. He could scarcely believe that the Mycogenian people admired the Imperial institution or, indeed, did anything but hate and despise it, yet the cultural attraction was apparently not to be withstood.
"Its beautiful," said the Mycogenian with obvious pride.
"Quite," said Seldon. "How it glistens in the daylight."
"The grounds around it," he said, "are constructed in imitation of the government grounds on our Dawn World ... in miniature, to be sure."
"Did you ever see the grounds of the Imperial Palace?" asked Seldon cautiously.
The Mycogenian caught the implication and seemed in no way put out by it. "They copied the Dawn World as best they could too."
Seldon doubted that in the extreme, but he said nothing. They came to a semicircular seat of white stonite, sparkling in the light as the Sacratorium did.
"Good," said the Mycogenian, his dark eyes gleaming with pleasure. "No ones taken my place. I call it mine only because its my favorite seat. It affords a beautiful view of the side wall of the Sacratorium past the trees. Please sit down. Its not cold, I assure you. And your companion. She is welcome to sit too. She is a tribeswoman, I know, and has different customs. She ... she may speak if she wishes."
Dors gave him a hard look and sat down.
Seldon, recognizing the fact that they might remain with this old Mycogenian a while, thrust out his hand and said, "I am Hari and my female companion is Dors. We dont use numbers, Im afraid."
"To each his ... or her ... own," said the other expansively. "I am Mycelium Seventy-Two. We are a large cohort."
"Mycelium?" said Seldon a bit hesitantly.
"You seem surprised," said Mycelium. "I take it, then, youve only met members of our Elder families. Names like Cloud and Sunshine and Starlight--all astronomical."
"I must admit--" began Seldon.
"Well, meet one of the lower classes. We take our names from the ground and from the micro-organisms we grow. Perfectly respectable."
"Im quite certain," said Seldon, "and thank you again for helping me with my ... problem in the gravi-bus."
"Listen," said Mycelium Seventy-Two, "I saved you a lot of trouble. If a Sister had seen you before I did, she would undoubtedly have screamed and the nearest Brothers would have bustled you off the bus--maybe not even waiting for it to stop moving."
Dors leaned forward so as to see across Seldon. "How is it you did not act in this way yourself?"
"I? I have no animosity against tribespeople. Im a scholar."
"A scholar?"
"First one in my cohort. I studied at the Sacratorium School and did very well. Im learned in all the ancient arts and I have a license to enter the tribal library, where they keep book-films and books by tribespeople. I can view any book-film or read any book I wish to. We even have a computerized reference library and I can handle that too. That sort of thing broadens your mind. I dont mind a little hair showing. Ive seen pictures of men with hair many a time. And women too." He glanced quickly at Dors.
They ate in silence for a while and then Seldon said, "I notice that every Brother who enters or leaves the Sacratorium is wearing a red sash."
"Oh yes," said Mycelium Seventy-Two. "Over the left shoulder and around the right side of the waist--usually very fancily embroidered."
"Why is that?"
"Its called an obiah. It symbolizes the joy felt at entering the Sacratorium and the blood one would spill to preserve it."
"Blood?" said Dors, frowning.
"Just a symbol. I never actually heard of anyone spilling blood over the Sacratorium. For that matter, there isnt that much joy. its mostly wailing and mourning and prostrating ones self over the Lost World." Hi............