[Untitled]

[Mao]

Part One - The foundation

I

Two students were walking together on the hallways of Cambridge University. The girl, wearing a green dress, probably bought from Rheinland or maybe imported from there, asked the boy:

- So, do you have any idea for the license project?
- Yes. I will write an article about gravitation and its benefits.
- That's not really interesting, she said.
- Oh, it will be. I heard something, about a guy from Sol, that tried to describe a way to use the gravitic force fields as propulsion for objects. I don't know why there aren't any ships based on that. Maybe the project was lost on the way, or something.
- Or maybe it was impossible and he canceled the project.
- I strongly feel it is possible. Maybe back then, they didn't have the technology we have now. Maybe now it's possible.
- Maybe, but are you sure you want to risk your University License and exams on that?
- Well, why not? I mean, I really think this is possible. All I need are some articles about it. I hope I'll find them at the University Library. Actually, I'm heading that way right now. Want to come?
- Euh... no, I got a course in ten minutes.
- Well, you'll probably find me there when you finish. I guess I got a lot to read about the project.
- OK! Have fun, said the girl and smiled.

She, then went away towards her course room. The boy watched her going until she was out of sight. He was wearing a white shirt with blue, horizontal stripes. The Library was in another building, across the University park. He took a minicab to get there fast. He used his Neural credit card to pay for the ride and entered the building. In the great hall, he presented his student ID card to the security guard that asked him and then entered one of the smaller halls. The sector was filled with ancient articles, all in digital format, sign that they were from the era when people stopped using paper for official acts. All he knew about his researcher was his name, and the title of the article that he needed. The search found only five results.
"This should be a good sign", he thought. At a careful look, all those results were just dates of publications, none of them about the article he needed.

Panic could be read on his face. Discouraged, he sat on a chair next to a table. A few books were opened on the neural console. He looked at them, hoping in a miracle. He used one of the consoles to search again for his article and author but no success. He was thinking of possible new projects for his license. None came to mind. His thoughs were disturbed by the crystalline voice of another girl:

- Are you Trevize?
- Yes, yes I am.
- Hello, my name is Kate and I'm working here. I saw you're a bit disappointed. What happened? You didn't find what you were looking for?
- Nope. I thought this Library has a huge database of ancient history but I didn't find anything. Have you tried to activate the function that allows us to search in every Library of the great Universities, all around Sirius?
- I think it's active. Here, check it, he said while giving her space to control the console.
- It is active. What were you searching for?
- It's an article written by a guy, Michael Henry Anderton.
- Aha, what's the name of the article, asked the girl while typing the name of the author in the terminal.
- It's something about... let me check.

Trevize took from his pocket a small datapad and searched for his notes, then answered the girl:

- It's called "Theory for Gravitic Propulsion".
- Well, said the girl after a few seconds, I sent the message to a friend of mine, a zoner. Looks like they got it.
- Zoners? How could Zoners have something that we, as a house don't?
- Ah, politics. Who cares?! Want me to set a meeting between you two?
- Ah, only if he comes on Cambridge. I can't afford to leave the planet till the end of the year.
- Well, Trevize, this is your lucky day for three reasons. One, he's on the planet. Two, you're going to meet him this evening.
- What's the third reason?
- You're gonna take me out to dinner, said the girl while leaving the room. My neural number is on the table. Call me in three hours.
- Done! Thanks, Kate! Oh and, call me Golan.

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