Forward the Foundation Chapter 6

15Cleon was no dourer quite the hand almost young monarch that his holographs portrayed. perhaps he still was-in the holographs- simply his mirror told a incompatible story. His most new-fashi wizd birthday had been celebrated with the usual pomp and ritual, but it was his fortieth in force(p) the same.The emperor moth could muster up nonhing wrong with being forty. His health was perfect. He had gained a junior-grade w octeter from Decatur but non much. His face would perhaps look older, if it were non for the microad moreoverments that were made periodically and that gave him a slightly e depictled look.He had been on the thr cardinal for ogdoadeen years-already one of the doggeder reigns of the century-and he entangle thither was nothing that might necessarily lay aside him from reigning other forty years and perhaps having the commodiousest reign in over-embellished history as a result.Cleon looked at the mirror again and purview he looked a bit better if he di d not understand the third ho-humension.Now pass water Demerzel-faithful, reliable, necessary, unbearable Demerzel. No change in him. He maintained his appearance and, as far as Cleon knew, t here had been no microadjustments, either. Of course, Demerzel was so close-mouthed most eitherthing. And he had never been young. There had been no young look about him when he first served Cleons founding sire and Cleon had been the schoolboyish Prince empurpled. And there was no young look about him now. Was it better to withstand looked old at the start and to subdue change afterward? convertIt re judgemented him that he had called Demerzel in for a purpose and not just so that he might stand there while the Emperor ruminated. Demerzel would take too much empurpled rumination as a firm of old age.Demerzel, he utter.Sire?This fellow Joranum. I tire of perceive of him.There is no reason you should hear of him, Sire. He is one of those phenomena that atomic number 18 thrget to the surface of the news for a while and then disappears. besides he doesnt disappear.Some quantify it takes a while, Sire.What do you call of him, Demerzel?He is stern but has a certain popularity. It is the popularity that increases the danger.If you find him dangerous and if I find him annoying, why must we wait? Cant he simply be intent or executed or something?The political stance on Trantor, Sire, is delicate-It is of all time delicate. When dupe you told me that it is anything but delicate?We live in delicate times, Sire. It would be vain to move strongly against him if that would but exacerbate the danger.I dont the like it. I whitethorn not be widely read-an Emperor doesnt live the time to be widely read-but I recognise my Imperial history, at any rate. There have been a number of cases of these populists, as they atomic number 18 called, that have seized power in the last couple of centuries. In every case, they reduced the reigning Emperor to a mere figurehead. I do not wish to be a figurehead, Demerzel.It is unbelievable that you would be, Sire.It wont be unthinkable if you do nothing.I am attempting to take measures, Sire, but cautious ones.Theres one fellow, at least, who isnt cautious. A month or so ago, a University professor-a professor-stopped a potential Joranumite riot single- reachly. He stepped right in and put a stop to it.So he did, Sire. How did you come to hear of it?Because he is a certain professor in whom I am interested. How is it that you didnt express to me of this?Demerzel give tongue to, to the highest degree obsequiously, Would it be right for me to trouble you with every insignificant detail that crosses my desk?peanut? This musical composition who took action was Hari Seldon.That was, thus, his name.And the name was a familiar one. Did he not presend a paper, some years ago, at the last Decennial rule that interested us?Yes, Sire.Cleon looked pleased. As you see, I do have a memory. I need not depend on my staff for everything. I interviewed this Seldon fellow on the matter of his paper, did I not?Your memory is indeed flawless, Sire.What happened to his idea? It was a fortune-telling device. My flawless memory does not bring to mastermind what he called it.Psychohistory, Sire. It was not precisely a fortune-telling device but a theory as to ways of predicting general trends in future valet history.And what happened to it?Nothing, Sire. As I explained at the time, the idea turned out to be wholly impractical. It was a colorful idea but a useless one.Yet he is capable of taking action to stop a potential riot. Would he have d ard do this if he didnt know in advance he would succeed? Isnt that license that this-what?-psychohistory is working?It is only when evidence that Hari Seldon is foolhardy, Sire. Even if the psychohistoric theory were practical, it would not have been able to yield results involving a single person or a single action.Youre not the mathematician, Demerzel. He is. I think it is time I questioned him again. After all, it is not long to begin with the Decennial Convention is upon us at a time more.It would be a useless-Demerzel, I desire it. See to it.Yes, Sire.16Raych was listening with an agonized impatience that he was trying not to show. He was sitting in an improvised cell, abstruse in the warrens of Billibotton, having been accompanied through alleys he no longer remembered. (He, who in the old days could have threaded those same alleys unerringly and bemused any pursuer.)The man with him, clad in the green of the Joranumite Guard, was either a missionary, a brainwasher, or a kind of theologian-manque. At any rate, he had announced his name to be Sander Nee and he was delivering a long message in a thick pigeon peaite accent that he had clearly learned by heart.If the people of pigeon pea want to jazz equality, they must show themselves worthy of it. Good rule, quiet behavior, seemly pleasures are all requirements. Aggressivene ss and the bearing of knives are the accusations others marque against us to explain their intolerance. We must be clean in word and-Raych broke in. I agree with you, Guardsman Nee, every word. But I must see Mr. Joranum. lento the guardsman shook his head. You cant less you got some appointment, some permission.Look, Im the son of an important professor at Streeling University, a mathematics professor.Dont know no professor. I idea you said you was from pigeon pea.Of course I am. Cant you tell the way I berate?And you got an old man whos a professor at a double University? That dont sound likely.Well, hes my foster father.The guardsman absorbed that and shook his head. You know anyone in Dahl?Theres Mother Rittah. Shell know me. (She had been very old when she had know him. She might be senile by now-or dead.)Never heard of her.(Who else? He had never known anyone likely to penetrate the dim consciousness of this man facing him. His ruff friend had been another youngster nam ed Smoodgie-or at least that was the all name he knew him by. Even in his desperation, Raych could not see himself saying Do you know someone my age named Smoodgie?)Finally he said, Theres Yugo Amaryl.A dim spark seemed to light Nees eyes. Who?Yugo Amaryl, said Raych eagerly. He works for my foster father at the University.He a Dahlite, too? Everyone at the University Dahlites?Just he and I. He was a heatsinker.Whats he doing at the University?My father took him out of the heatsinks eight years ago.Well-Ill send someone.Raych had to wait. Even if he escaped, where would he go in the intricate alleyways of Billibotton without being picked up instantly?Twenty minutes passed before Nee returned with the bodily who had arrested Raych in the first place. Raych felt a little hope the corporal, at least, might conceivably have some brains.The corporal said, Who is this Dahlite you know?Yugo Amaryl, Corporal, a heatsinker who my father found here in Dahl eight years ago and took to Streel ing University with him.Why did he do that?My father thought Yugo could do more important things than heatsink, Corporal.Like what?Mathematics. He-The corporal held up his hand. What heatsink did he work in?Raych thought for a moment. I was only a kid then, but it was at C-2, I think.Close enough. C-3. whence you know about him, Corporal?Not personally, but the story is noteworthy in the heatsinks and Ive worked there, too. And maybe thats how youve heard of it. stupefy you any evidence that you truly know Yugo Amaryl?Look. allow me tell you what Id like to do. Im sledding to write dismantle my name on a piece of paper and my fathers name. Then Im going to write atomic reactor one word. Get in touch-any way you want-with some official in Mr. Joranums group-Mr. Joranum leave alone be here in Dahl tomorrow-and just read him my name, my fathers name, and the one word. If nothing happens, then Ill stay here till I rot, I suppose, but I dont think that provide happen. In fact, I m sure that they give get me out of here in three seconds and that youll get a promotion for passing along the information. If you balk to do this, when they find out I am here-and they will-you will be in the deepest possible trouble. After all, if you know that Yugo Amaryl went off with a big-shot mathematician, just tell yourself that same big-shot mathematician is my father. His name is Hari Seldon.The corporals face showed clearly that the name was not unknown to him.He said, Whats the one word youre going to write down?Psychohistory.The corporal frowned. Whats that?That doesnt matter. Just pass it along and see what happens.The corporal handed him a small sheet of paper, torn out of a notebook. all in all right. Write it down and well see what happens.Raych realized that he was trembling. He valued very much to know what would happen. It depended entirely on who it was that the corporal would verbalize to and what magic the word would carry with it.17Hari Seldon watched t he raindrops form on the wraparound windows of the Imperial ground-car and a sense of nostalgia stabbed at him unbearably.It was only the second time in his eight years on Trantor that he had been ordered to visit the Emperor in the only open land on the planet-and both times the weather had been badness. The first time, shortly after he had arrived on Trantor, the bad weather had merely irritated him. He had found no revolution in it. His home world of Helicon had its share of storms, after all, curiously in the area where he had been brought up.But now he had lived for eight years in make- swear weather, in which storms consisted of computerized clou eatss at random intervals, with regular light rains during the sleeping hours. Raging winds were replaced by zephyrs and there were no extremes of heat and cold-merely little changes that made you unzip the front of your shirt once in a while or throw on a light jacket. And he had heard complaints about even so easy a deviation.Bu t now Hari was seeing real rain culmination down drearily from a cold sky-and he had not seen such a thing in years-and he loved it that was the thing. It reminded him of Helicon, of his youth, of relatively devil-may-care days, and he wondered if he might persuade the driver to take the long way to the Palace.Impossible The Emperor wanted to see him and it was a long enough trip by ground-car, even if one went in a straight line with no interfering traffic. The Emperor, of course, would not wait.It was a different Cleon from the one Seldon had seen eight years before. He had put on about ten pounds and there was a sulkiness about his face. Yet the pare around his eyes and cheeks looked pinched and Hari recognized the results of one too many another(prenominal) microadjustments. In a way, Seldon felt sorry for Cleon-for all his might and Imperial sway, the Emperor was powerless against the passage of time.Once again Cleon met Hari Seldon alone-in the same profusely furnished r oom of their first encounter. As was the custom, Seldon waited to be addressed.After short assessing Seldons appearance, the Emperor said in an ordinary voice, Glad to see you, Professor. Let us dispense with formalities, as we did on the former occasion on which I met you.Yes, Sire, said Seldon stiffly. It was not always safe to be informal, merely because the Emperor ordered you to be so in an effusive moment.Cleon gestured unnoticeably and at once the room came alive with automation as the dining table set itself and dishes began to appear. Seldon, confused, could not follow the details.The Emperor said casually, You will dine with me, Seldon?It had the formal intonation of a question but the force, somehow, of an order.I would be honored, Sire, said Seldon. He looked around cautiously. He knew very well that one did not (or, at any rate, should not) ask questions of the Emperor, but he axiom no way out of it. He said, rather quietly, trying to make it not sound like a questi on, The First Minister will not dine with us?He will not, said Cleon. He has other tasks at this moment and I wish, in any case, to speak to you privately.They ate quietly for a while, Cleon gazing at him fixedly and Seldon smiling tentatively. Cleon had no reputation for cruelty or even for irresponsibility, but he could, in theory, have Seldon arrested on some vague charge and, if the Emperor wished to employ his influence, the case might never come to trial. It was always best to avoid notice and at the moment Seldon couldnt manage it.Surely it had been worse eight years ago, when he had been brought to the Palace under build up guard. This fact did not make Seldon feel relieved, however.Then Cleon spoke. Seldon he said. The First Minister is of capacious use to me, yet I feel that, at times, people may think I do not have a mind of my own. Do you think that?Never, Sire, said Seldon calmly. No use protesting too much.I dont believe you. However, I do have a mind of my own and I recall that when you first came to Trantor you had this psychohistory thing you were playing with.Im sure you likewise remember, Sire, said Seldon softly, that I explained at the time it was a mathematical theory without practical application.So you said. Do you still say so?Yes, Sire.Have you been working on it since?On occasion I toy with it, but it comes to nothing. Chaos unfortunately interferes and predictability is not-The Emperor interrupted. There is a specific problem I wish you to tackle. Do help yourself to the dessert, Seldon. It is very good.What is the problem, Sire?This man Joranum. Demerzel tells me-oh, so politely-that I cannot arrest this man and I cannot use armed force to crush his followers. He says it will simply make the situation worse.If the First Minister says so, I presume it is so.But I do not want this man Joranum At any rate, I will not be his puppet. Demerzel does nothing.I am sure that he is doing what he can, Sire.If he is working to alleviate th e problem, he certainly is not retention me informed.That may be, Sire, out of a natural desire to keep you in a higher place the fray. The First Minister may feel that if Joranum should-if he should-Take over, said Cleon with a tone of infinite distaste.Yes, Sire. It would not be wise to have it appear that you were personally opposed to him. You must remain untouched for the rice beer of the stability of the pudding stone.I would much rather assure the stability of the Empire without Joranum. What do you suggest, Seldon?I, Sire?You, Seldon, said Cleon impatiently. Let me say that I dont believe you when you say that psychohistory is just a game. Demerzel stays friendly with you. Do you think I am such an idiot as not to know that? He behaves something from you. He conceptualises psychohistory from you and since I am no fool, I expect it, too. Seldon, are you for Joranum? The truthNo, Sire, I am not for him. I remember him an utter danger to the Empire.Very well, I believe yo u. You stopped a potential Joranumite riot at your University grounds single-handedly, I understand.It was pure pulsing on my part, Sire.Tell that to fools, not to me. You had worked it out by psychohistory.SireDont protest. What are you doing about Joranum? You must be doing something if you are on the side of the Empire.Sire, said Seldon cautiously, uncertain as to how much the Emperor knew. I have sent my son to meet with Joranum in the Dahl Sector.Why?My son is a Dahlite-and shrewd. He may discover something of use to us.May?Only may, Sire.Youll keep me informed?Yes, Sire.And, Seldon, do not tell me that psychohistory is just a game, that it does not exist. I do not want to hear that. I expect you to do something about Joranum. What it might be, I cant say, but you must do something. I will not have it otherwise. You may go.Seldon returned to Streeling University in a far darker mood than when he had left. Cleon had sounded as though he would not accept failure.It all depended o n Raych now.