Second Foundation(54)

Callia had engineered her escape. And Callia was of the Second Foundation. Why, then, the search now? Had Callia failed? Could Callia fail? Or was this part of the plan, the intricacies of which escaped her?

For a vertiginous moment, she wanted to jump up and shout that she gave up, that she would go with them, that... that-

But Mamma's hand was on her wrist. "Quick! Quick! Well go to the lady's room before they start."

Arcadia did not understand. She merely followed blindly. They oozed through the crowd, frozen as it was into clumps, with the voice still booming through its last words.

The grid was descending now, and Pappa, openmouthed, watched it come down. He had heard of it and read of it, but had never actually been the object of it. It glimmered in the air, simply a series of cross-hatched and tight radiation-beams that set the air aglow in a harmless network of flashing light.

It always was so arranged as to descend slowly from above in order that it might represent a falling net with all the terrific psychological implications of entrapment.

It was at waist-level now, ten feet between glowing lines in each direction. In his own hundred square feet, Pappa found himself alone, yet the adjoining squares were crowded. He felt himself conspicuously isolated but knew that to move into the greater anonymity of a group would have meant crossing one of those glowing lines, stirring an alarm, and bringing down the neuronic whip.

He waited.

He could make out over the heads of the eerily quiet and waiting mob, the far-off stir that was the line of policemen covering the vast floor area, lighted square by lighted square.

It was a long time before a uniform stepped into his square and carefully noted its co-ordinates into an official notebook.

"Papers!"

Pappa handed them over, and they were flipped through in expert fashion.

"You're Preem Palver, native of Trantor, on Kalgan for a month, returning to Trantor. Answer, yes or no."

"Yes, yes."

"What's your business on Kalgan?"

"I'm trading representative of our farm co-operative. I've been negotiating terms with the Department of Agriculture on Kalgan.

"Um-m-m. Your wife is with you? Where is she? She is mentioned in your papers."

"Please. My wife is in the-" He pointed.

"Hanto," roared the policeman. Another uniform joined him.

The first one said, dryly, "Another dame in the can, by the Galaxy. The place must be busting with them. Write down her name." He indicated the entry in the papers which gave it.

"Anyone else with you?"

"My niece."

"She's not mentioned in the papers."

"She came separately."

"Where is she? Never mind, I know. Write down the niece's name, too, Hanto. What's her name? Write down Arcadia Palver. You stay right here, Palver. We'll take care of the women before we leave."

Pappa waited interminably. And then, long, long after, Mamma was marching toward him, Arcadia's hand firmly in hers, the two policemen trailing behind her.

They entered Pappa's square, and one said, "Is this noisy old woman your wife?"

"Yes, sir," said Pappa, placatingly.

"Then you'd better tell her she's liable to get into trouble if she talks the way she does to the First Citizen's police." He straightened his shoulders angrily. "Is this your niece?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want her papers."

Looking straight at her husband, Mamma slightly, but no less firmly, shook her head.

A short pause, and Pappa said with a weak smile, "I don't think I can do that."

"What do you mean you can't do that?" The policeman thrust out a hard palm. "Hand it over."

"Diplomatic immunity," said Pappa, softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I said I was trading representative of my farm co-operative. I'm accredited to the Kalganian government as an official foreign representative and my papers prove it. I showed them to you and now I don't want to be bothered any more."

For a moment, the policeman was taken aback. "I got to see your papers. It's orders."

"You go away," broke in Mamma, suddenly. "When we want you, we'll send for you, you... you bum."

The policeman's lips tightened. "Keep your eye on them, Hanto. I'll get the lieutenant."

"Break a leg!" called Mamma after him. Someone laughed, and then choked it off suddenly.

The search was approaching its end. The crowd was growing dangerously restless. Forty-five minutes had elapsed since the grid had started falling and that is too long for best effects. Lieutenant Dirige threaded his way hastily, therefore, toward the dense center of the mob.

"Is this the girl?" he asked wearily. He looked at her and she obviously fitted the description. All this for a child.

He said, "Her papers, if you please?"

Pappa began, "I have already explained-"

"I know what you have explained, and I'm sorry," said the lieutenant, "but I have my orders, and I can't help them. If you care to make a protest later, you may. Meanwhile, if necessary, I must use force."

There was a pause, and the lieutenant waited patiently.

Then Pappa said, huskily, "Give me your papers, Arcadia."