He said, “I greet you, tribesman.”

Seldon said with automatic politeness, “Greetings, sir.” Then, honestly puzzled, he asked, “How did you get in?”

“Through the entrance, which closed behind me. You paid little heed.”

“I suppose we didn’t. But then we didn’t know what to expect. Nor do we now.”

“Tribesman Chetter Hummin informed the Brethren that there would be members from two of the tribes arriving. He asked that you be cared for.”

“Then you know Hummin.”

“We do. He has been of service to us. And because he, a worthy tribesman, has been of service to us, so must we be now to him. There are few who come to Mycogen and few who leave. I am to make you secure, give you houseroom, see that you are undisturbed. You will be safe here.”

Dors bent her head. “We are grateful, Sunmaster Fourteen.”

Sunmaster turned to look at her with an air of dispassionate contempt. “I am not unaware of the customs of the tribes,” he said. “I know that among them a woman may well speak before being spoken to. I am therefore not offended. I would ask her to have a care among others of the Brethren who may be of lesser knowledge in the matter.”

“Oh really?” said Dors, who was clearly offended, even if Sunmaster was not.

“In truth,” agreed Sunmaster. “Nor is it needful to use my numerical identifier when I alone of my cohort am with you. ‘Sunmaster’ will be sufficient.-Now I will ask you to come with me so that we may leave this place which is of too tribal a nature to comfort me.”

“Comfort is for all of us,” said Seldon, perhaps a little more loudly than was necessary, “and we will not budge from this place unless we are assured that we will not be forcibly bent to your liking against our own natures. It is our custom that a woman may speak whenever she has something to say. If you have agreed to keep us secure, that security must be psychological as well as physical.”

Sunmaster gazed at Seldon levelly and said, “You are bold, young tribesman. Your name?”

“I am Hari Seldon of Helicon. My companion is Dors Venabili of Cinna.”

Sunmaster bowed slightly as Seldon pronounced his own name, did not move at the mention of Dors’s name. He said, “I have sworn to Tribesman Hummin that we will keep you safe, so I will do what I can to protect your woman companion in this. If she wishes to exercise her impudence, I will do my best to see that she is held guiltless.-Yet in one respect you must conform.” And he pointed, with infinite scorn, first to Seldon’s head and then to Dors’s.

“What do you mean?” said Seldon.

“Your cephalic hair.”

“What about it?”

“It must not be seen.”

“Do you mean we’re to shave our heads like you? Certainly not.”

“My head is not shaven, Tribesman Seldon. I was depilated when I entered puberty, as are all the Brethren and their women.”

“If we’re talking about depilation, then more than ever the answer is no-never.”

“Tribesman, we ask neither shaving nor depilation. We ask only that your hair be covered when you are among us.”

“How?”

“I have brought skincaps that will mold themselves to your skulls, together with strips that will hide the superoptical patches the eyebrows. You will wear them while with us. And of course, Tribesman Seldon, you will shave daily-or oftener if that becomes necessary.”

“But why must we do this?”

“Because to us, hair on the head is repulsive and obscene.”

“Surely, you and all your people know that it is customary for others, in all the worlds of the Galaxy, to retain their cephalic hair.”

“We know. And those among us, like myself, who must deal with tribesmen now and then, must witness this hair. We manage, but it is unfair to ask the Brethren generally to suffer the sight.”

Seldon said, “Very well, then, Sunmaster-but tell me. Since you are born with cephalic hair, as all of us are and as you all retain it visibly till puberty, why is it so necessary to remove it? Is it just a matter of custom or is there some rationale behind it?”

And the old Mycogenian said proudly, “By depilation, we demonstrate to the youngster that he or she has become an adult and through depilation adults will always remember who they are and never forget that all others are but tribesmen.”

He waited for no response (and, in truth, Seldon could think of none) but brought out from some hidden compartment in his robe a handful of thin bits of plastic of varying color, stared keenly at the two faces before him, holding first one strip, then another, against each face. “The colors must match reasonably,” he said. “No one will be fooled into thinking you are not wearing a skincap, but it must not be repulsively obvious.”

Finally, Sunmaster gave a particular strip to Seldon and showed him how it could be pulled out into a cap.

“Please put it on, Tribesman Seldon,” he said. “You will find the process clumsy at first, but you will grow accustomed to it.”

Seldon put it on, but the first two times it slipped off when he tried to pull it backward over his hair.

“Begin just above your eyebrows,” said Sunmaster. His fingers seemed to twitch, as though eager to help.

Seldon said, suppressing a smile, “Would you do it for me?”

And Sunmaster drew back, saying, almost in agitation, “I couldn’t. I would be touching your hair.”

Seldon managed to hook it on and followed Sunmaster’s advice, in pulling it here and there until all his hair was covered. The eyebrow patches fitted on easily. Dors, who had watched carefully, put hers on without trouble.

“How does it come off?” asked Seldon.

“You have but to find an end and it will peel off without trouble. You will find it easier both to put on and take off if you cut your hair shorter.”

“I’d rather struggle a bit,” said Seldon. Then, turning to Dors, he said in a low voice, “You’re still pretty, Dors, but it does tend to remove some of the character from your face.”

“The character is there underneath just the same,” she answered. “And I dare say you’ll grow accustomed to the hairless me.”

In a still lower whisper, Seldon said, “I don’t want to stay here long enough to get accustomed to this.”

Sunmaster, who ignored, with visible haughtiness, the mumblings among mere tribesmen, said, “If you will enter my ground-car, I will now take you into Mycogen.”

“Frankly,” whispered Dors, “I can scarcely believe I’m on Trantor.”

“I take it, then, you’ve never seen anything like this before?” said Seldon.

“I’ve only been on Trantor for two years and I’ve spent much of my time at the University, so I’m not exactly a world traveler. Still, I’ve been here and there and I’ve heard of this and that, but I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this. The sameness.”

Sunmaster drove along methodically and without undue haste. There were other wagonlike vehicles in the roadway, all with hairless men at the controls, their bald pates gleaming in the light.

On either side there were three-story structures, unornamented, all lines meeting at right angles, everything gray in color.

“Dreary,” mouthed Dors. “So dreary.”

“Egalitarian,” whispered Seldon. “I suspect no Brother can lay claim to precedence of any obvious kind over any other.”

There were many pedestrians on the walkways as they passed. There were no signs of any moving corridors and no sound of any nearby Expressway.

Dors said, “I’m guessing the grays are women.”

“Its hard to tell,” said Seldon. “The gowns hide everything and one hairless head is like another.”

“The grays are always in pairs or with a white. The whites [also] walk alone and Sunmaster is a white.”

“You may be right.” Seldon raised his voice. “Sunmaster, I am curious.”

“If you are, then ask what you wish, although I am by no means required to answer.”