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+Prelude 
+
+to 
+
+Foundation 
+
+by Isaac Asimov 
+
+Author’s Note 
+
+When I wrote “Foundation, “ which appeared in the May 1942 issue of Astounding 
+Science Faction, I had no idea that I had begun a series of stories that would eventually 
+grow into six volumes and a total of 650, 000 words (so far). Nor did I have any idea that 
+it would be unified with my series of short stories and novels involving robots and my 
+novels involving the Galactic Empire for a grand total (so far) of fourteen volumes and a 
+total of about 1, 450, 000 words. 
+
+You will see, if you study the publication dates of these books, that there was a 
+twenty-five-year hiatus between 1957 and 1982, during which I did not add to this series. 
+This was not because I had stopped writing. Indeed, I wrote full-speed throughout the 
+quarter century, but I wrote other things. That I returned to the series in 1982 was not my 
+own notion but was the result of a combination of pressures from readers and publishers 
+that eventually became overwhelming. 
+
+In any case, the situation has become sufficiently complicated for me to feel that 
+the readers might welcome a kind of guide to the series, since they were not written in the 
+order in which (perhaps) they should be read. 
+
+The fourteen books, all published by Doubleday, offer a kind of history of the 
+future, which is, perhaps, not completely consistent, since I did not plan consistency to 
+begin with. The chronological order of the books, in terms of future history (and not of 
+publication date), is as follows: 
+
+1. The Complete Robot (1982). This is a collection of thirty-one robot short stories 
+published between 1940 and 1976 and includes every story in my earlier collection 1. 
+Robot (1950). Only one robot short story has been written since this collection appeared. 
+That is “Robot Dreams, “ which has not yet appeared in any Doubleday collection. 
+
+2. The Caves of Steel (1954). This is the first of my robot novels. 
+
+3. The Naked Sun (1957). The second robot novel. 
+
+4. The Robots of Dawn (1983 ). The third robot novel. 
+
+5. Robots and Empire (1985). The fourth robot novel. 
+
+6. The Currents of Space (1952). This is the first of my Empire novels. 
+
+7. The Stars, Like Dust (1951). The second Empire novel. 
+
+
+
+8. Pebble in the Sky (1950). The third Empire novel. 
+
+9. Prelude to Foundation (1988). This is the first Foundation novel (although it is the 
+latest written, so far). 
+
+10. Foundation (1951). The second Foundation novel. Actually, it is a collection of four 
+stories, originally published between 1942 and 1944, plus an introductory section written 
+for the book in 1949. 
+
+11. foundation and Empire (1952). The third Foundation novel, made up of two stories, 
+originally published in 1945. 
+
+12. Second foundation (1953). The fourth Foundation novel, made up of two stories, 
+originally published in 1948 and 1949. 
+
+13. Foundations Edge (1982). The fifth Foundation novel. 
+
+14. Foundation and Earth (1983). The sixth Foundation novel. 
+
+Will I add additional books to the series? I might. There is room for a book 
+between Robots and Empire (5) and The Currents of Space (6) and between Prelude to 
+Foundation (9) and Foundation (10) and of course between others as well. And then I can 
+follow Foundation and Earth (14) with additional volumes — as many as I like. 
+
+Naturally, there’s got to be some limit, for I don’t expect to live forever, but I do 
+intend to hang on as long as possible. 
+
+Mathematician 
+
+
+CFEON I — . . . The last Galactic Emperor of the Entun dynasty. He was born in 
+the year 11, 988 of the Galactic Era, the same year in which Hari Seldon was born. (It is 
+thought that Seldon’s birthdate, which some consider doubtful, may have been adjusted 
+to match that of Cleon, whom Seldon, soon after his arrival on Trantor, is supposed to 
+have encountered.) 
+
+Having succeeded to the Imperial throne in 12, 010 at the age of twenty-two, 
+Cleon I’s reign represented a curious interval of quiet in those troubled times. This is 
+undoubtedly due to the skills of his Chief of Staff, Eto Demerzel, who so carefully 
+obscured himself from public record that little is known about him. 
+
+Cleon himself . . . 
+
+ENCYFOPEDIA GAFACTICA 
+
+(All quotations from the Encyclopedia Galactica here reproduced are taken from 
+the 116th Edition, published 1, 020 FE by the Encyclopedia Galactica Publishing Co., 
+Terminus, with permission of the publishers.) 
+
+1 . 
+
+Suppressing a small yawn, Cleon said, “Demerzel, have you by any chance ever 
+heard of a man named Hari Seldon?” 
+
+Cleon had been Emperor for just over ten years and there were times at state 
+occasions when, dressed in the necessary robes and regalia, he could manage to look 
+stately. He did so, for instance, in the holograph of himself that stood in the niche in the 
+wall behind him. It was placed so that it clearly dominated the other niches holding the 
+
+
+
+holographs of several of his ancestors. 
+
+The holograph was not a totally honest one, for though Cleon’s hair was light 
+brown in hologram and reality alike, it was a bit thicker in the holograph. There was a 
+certain asymmetry to his real face, for the left side of his upper lip raised itself a bit 
+higher than the right side, and this was somehow not evident in the holograph. And if he 
+had stood up and placed himself beside the holograph, he would have been seen to be 2 
+centimeters under the 1.83-meter height that the image portrayed — and perhaps a bit 
+stouter. 
+
+Of course, the holograph was the official coronation portrait and he had been 
+younger then. He still looked young and rather handsome, too, and when he was not in 
+the pitiless grip of official ceremony, there was a kind of vague good nature about his 
+face. 
+
+Demerzel said, with the tone of respect that he carefully cultivated, “Hari Seldon? 
+It is an unfamiliar name to me, Sire. Ought I to know of him?” 
+
+“The Minister of Science mentioned him to me last night. I thought you might.” 
+
+Demerzel frowned slightly, but only very slightly, for one does not frown in the 
+Imperial presence. “The Minister of Science, Sire, should have spoken of this man to me 
+as Chief of Staff. If you are to be bombarded from every side—” 
+
+Cleon raised his hand and Demerzel stopped at once. “Please, Demerzel, one 
+can’t stand on formality at all times. When I passed the Minister at last night’s reception 
+and exchanged a few words with him, he bubbled over. I could not refuse to listen and I 
+was glad I had, for it was interesting.” 
+
+“In what way interesting, Sire?” 
+
+“Well, these are not the old days when science and mathematics were all the rage. 
+That sort of thing seems to have died down somehow, perhaps because all the discoveries 
+have been made, don’t you think? Apparently, however, interesting things can still 
+happen. At least I was told it was interesting.” 
+
+“By the Minister of Science, Sire?” 
+
+“Yes. He said that this Hari Seldon had attended a convention of mathematicians 
+held here in Trantor — they do this every ten years, for some reason — and he said that he 
+had proved that one could foretell the future mathematically.” 
+
+Demerzel permitted himself a small smile. “Either the Minister of Science, a man 
+of little acumen, is mistaken or the mathematician is. Surely, the matter of foretelling the 
+future is a children’s dream of magic.” 
+
+“Is it, Demerzel? People believe in such things.” 
+
+“People believe in many things, Sire.” 
+
+“But they believe in such things. Therefore, .it doesn’t matter whether the forecast 
+of the future is true or not. If a mathematician should predict a long and happy reign for 
+me, a time of peace and prosperity for the Empire — Eh, would that not be well?” 
+
+“It would be pleasant to hear, certainly, but what would it accomplish, Sire?” 
+
+“But surely if people believe this, they would act on that belief. Many a prophecy, 
+by the mere force of its being believed, is transmuted to fact. These are ‘self-fulfilling 
+prophecies.’ Indeed, now that I think of it, it was you who once explained this to me.” 
+
+Demerzel said, “I believe I did, Sire.” His eyes were watching the Emperor 
+carefully, as though to see how far he might go on his own. “Still, if that be so, one could 
+have any person make the prophecy. “ 
+
+
+
+“Not all persons would be equally believed, Demerzel. A mathematician, 
+however, who could back his prophecy with mathematical formulas and terminology, 
+might be understood by no one and yet believed by everyone.” 
+
+Demerzel said, “As usual, Sire, you make good sense. We live in troubled times 
+and it would be worthwhile to calm them in a way that would require neither money nor 
+military effort— which, in recent history, have done little good and much harm.” 
+
+“Exactly, Demerzel, “ said the Emperor with excitement. “Reel in this Hari 
+Seldon. You tell me you have your strings stretching to every part of this turbulent world, 
+even where my forces dare not go. Pull on one of those strings, then, and bring in this 
+mathematician. Let me see him.” 
+
+“I will do so, Sire, “ said Demerzel, who had already located Seldon and who 
+made a mental note to commend the Minister of Science for a job well done. 
+
+2 . 
+
+Hari Seldon did not make an impressive appearance at this time. Like the 
+Emperor Cleon I, he was thirty-two years old, but he was only 1.73 meters tall. His face 
+was smooth and cheerful, his hair dark brown, almost black, and his clothing had the 
+unmistakable touch of provinciality about it. 
+
+To anyone in later times who knew of Hari Seldon only as a legendary demigod, 
+it would seem almost sacrilegious for him not to have white hair, not to have an old lined 
+face, a quiet smile radiating wisdom, not to be seated in a wheelchair. Even then, in 
+advanced old age, his eyes had been cheerful, however. There was that. 
+
+And his eyes were particularly cheerful now, for his paper had been given at the 
+Decennial Convention. It had even aroused some interest in a distant sort of way and old 
+Osterfith had nodded his head at him and had said, “Ingenious, young man. Most 
+ingenious.” Which, coming from Osterfith, was satisfactory. Most satisfactory. 
+
+But now there was a new— and quite unexpected— development and Seldon wasn’t 
+sure whether it should increase his cheer and intensify his satisfaction or not. 
+
+He stared at the tall young man in uniform— the Spaceship-and-Sun neatly placed 
+on the left side of his tunic. 
+
+“Lieutenant Alban Wellis, “ said the officer of the Emperor’s Guard before 
+putting away his identification. “Will you come with me now, sir?” 
+
+Wellis was armed, of course. There were two other Guardsmen waiting outside 
+his door. Seldon knew he had no choice, for all the other’s careful politeness, but there 
+was no reason he could not seek information. He said, “To see the Emperor?” 
+
+“To be brought to the Palace, sir. That’s the extent of my instructions. “ 
+
+“But why?” 
+
+“I was not told why, sir. And I have my strict instructions that you must come 
+with me— one way or another.” 
+
+“But this seems as though I am being arrested. I have done nothing to warrant 
+
+that.” 
+
+“Say, rather, that it seems you are being given an escort of honor— if you delay me 
+no further.” 
+
+Seldon delayed no further. He pressed his lips together, as though to block of 
+further questions, nodded his head, and stepped forward. Even if he was going to meet 
+
+
+
+the Emperor and to receive Imperial commendation, he found no joy in it. He was for the 
+Empire— that is, for the worlds of humanity in peace and union but he was not for the 
+Emperor. 
+
+The lieutenant walked ahead, the other two behind. Seldon smiled at those he 
+passed and managed to look unconcerned. Outside the hotel they climbed into an official 
+ground-car. (Seldon ran his hand over the upholstery; he had never been in anything so 
+ornate. ) 
+
+They were in one of the wealthiest sections of Trantor. The dome was high 
+enough here to give a sensation of being in the open and one could swear— even one such 
+as Hari Seldon, who had been born and brought up on an open world— that they were in 
+sunlight. You could see no sun and no shadows, but the air was light and fragrant. 
+
+And then it passed and the dome curved down and the walls narrowed in and soon 
+they were moving along an enclosed tunnel, marked periodically with the Spaceship-and- 
+Sun and so clearly reserved (Seldon thought) for official vehicles. 
+
+A door opened and the ground-car sped through. When the door closed behind 
+them, they were in the open— the true, the real open. There were 250 square kilometers of 
+the only stretch of open land on Trantor and on it stood the Imperial Palace. Seldon 
+would have liked a chance to wander through that open land— not because of the Palace, 
+but because it also contained the Galactic University and, most intriguing of all, the 
+Galactic Library. 
+
+And yet, in passing from the enclosed world of Trantor into the open patch of 
+wood and parkland, he had passed into a world in which clouds dimmed the sky and a 
+chill wind rued his shirt. He pressed the contact that closed the ground-car’s window. 
+
+It was a dismal day outside. 
+
+3. 
+
+Seldon was not at all sure he would meet the Emperor. At best, he would meet 
+some official in the fourth or fifth echelon who would claim to speak for the Emperor. 
+
+How many people ever did see the Emperor? In person, rather than on holovision? 
+How many people saw the real, tangible Emperor, an Emperor who never left the 
+Imperial grounds that he, Seldon, was now rolling over. 
+
+The number was vanishingly small. Twentyfive million inhabited worlds, each 
+with its cargo of a billion human beings or more— and among all those quadrillions of 
+human beings, how many had, or would ever, lay eyes on the living Emperor. A 
+thousand? 
+
+And did anyone care? The Emperor was no more than a symbol of Empire, like 
+the Spaceship-and-Sun but far less pervasive, far less real. It was his soldiers and his 
+officials, crawling everywhere, that now represented an Empire that had become a dead 
+weight upon its people— not the Emperor. 
+
+So it was that when Seldon was ushered into a moderately sized, lavishly 
+furnished room and found a young-looking man sitting on the edge of a table in a 
+windowed alcove, one foot on the ground and one swinging over the edge, he found 
+himself wondering that any official should be looking at him in so blandly good-natured a 
+way. He had already experienced the fact, over and over, that government officials— and 
+particularly those in the Imperial service looked grave at all times, as though bearing the 
+
+
+
+weight of the entire Galaxy on their shoulders. And it seemed the lower in importance 
+they were, the graver and more threatening their expression. 
+
+This, then, might be an official so high in the scale, with the sun of power so 
+bright upon him, that he felt no need of countering it with clouds of frowning. 
+
+Seldon wasn’t sure how impressed he ought to be, but he felt that it would be best 
+to remain silent and let the other speak first. 
+
+The official said, “You are Hari Seldon, I believe. The mathematician. “ 
+
+Seldon responded with a minimal “Yes, sir, “ and waited again. 
+
+The young man waved an arm. “It should be ‘Sire, ‘ but I hate ceremony. It’s all I 
+get and I weary of it. We are alone, so I will pamper myself and eschew ceremony. Sit 
+down, professor.” 
+
+Halfway through the speech, Seldon realized that he was speaking to the Emperor 
+Cleon, First of that Name, and he felt the wind go out of him. There was a faint 
+resemblance (now that he looked) to the official holograph that appeared constantly in the 
+news, but in that holograph, Cleon was always dressed imposingly, seemed taller, nobler, 
+frozen-faced. 
+
+And here he was, the original of the holograph, and somehow he appeared to be 
+quite ordinary. 
+
+Seldon did not budge. 
+
+The Emperor frowned slightly and, with the habit of command present even in the 
+attempt to abolish it, at least temporarily, said peremptorily, “I said, ‘Sit down, ‘ man. 
+That chair. Quickly.” 
+
+Seldon sat down, quite speechless. He could not even bring himself to say, “Yes, 
+
+Sire.” 
+
+Cleon smiled. “That’s better. Now we can talk like two fellow human beings, 
+which, after all, is what we are once ceremony is removed. Eh, my man?” 
+
+Seldon said cautiously, “If Your Imperial Majesty is content to say so, then it is 
+
+so.” 
+
+“Oh, come, why are you so cautious? I want to talk to you on equal terms. It is my 
+pleasure to do so. Humor me.” 
+
+“Yes, Sire.” 
+
+“A simple ‘Yes, ‘ man. Is there no way I can reach you?” 
+
+Cleon stared at Seldon and Seldon thought it was a lively and interested stare. 
+
+Finally the Emperor said, “You don’t look like a mathematician.” 
+
+At last, Seldon found himself able to smile. “I don’t know what a mathematician 
+is suppose to look like, Your Imp—” 
+
+Cleon raised a cautioning hand and Seldon choked off the honorific. 
+
+Cleon said, “White-haired, I suppose. Bearded, perhaps. Old, certainly.” 
+
+“Yet even mathematicians must be young to begin with.” 
+
+“But they are then without reputation. By the time they obtrude themselves on the 
+notice of the Galaxy, they are as I have described.” 
+
+“I am without reputation, I’m afraid.” 
+
+“Yet you spoke at this convention they held here.” 
+
+“A great many of us did. Some were younger than myself. Few of us were granted 
+any attention whatever.” 
+
+“Your talk apparently attracted the attention of some of my officials. I am given 
+
+
+
+to understand that you believe it possible to predict the future.” 
+
+Seldon suddenly felt weary. It seemed as though this misinterpretation of his 
+theory was constantly going to occur. Perhaps he should not have presented his paper. 
+
+He said, “Not quite, actually. What I have done is much more limited than that. In 
+many systems, the situation is such that under some conditions chaotic events take place. 
+That means that, given a particular starting point, it is impossible to predict outcomes. 
+This is true even in some quite simple systems, but the more complex a system, the more 
+likely it is to become chaotic. It has always been assumed that anything as complicated as 
+human society would quickly become chaotic and, therefore, unpredictable. What I have 
+done, however, is to show that, in studying human society, it is possible to choose a 
+starting point and to make appropriate assumptions that will suppress the chaos. That will 
+make it possible to predict the future, not in full detail, of course, but in broad sweeps; 
+not with certainty, but with calculable probabilities.” 
+
+The Emperor, who had listened carefully, said, “But doesn’t that mean that you 
+have shown how to predict the future?” 
+
+“Again, not quite. I have showed that it is theoretically possible, but no more. To 
+do more, we would actually have to choose a correct starting point, make correct 
+assumptions, and then find ways of carrying through calculations in a finite time. Nothing 
+in my mathematical argument tells us how to do any of this. And even if we could do it 
+all, we would, at best, only assess probabilities. That is not the same as predicting the 
+future; it is merely a guess at what is likely to happen. Every successful politician, 
+businessman, or human being of any calling must make these estimates of the future and 
+do it fairly well or he or she would not be successful.” 
+
+“They do it without mathematics.” 
+
+“True. They do it by intuition.” 
+
+“With the proper mathematics, anyone would be able to assess the probabilities. It 
+wouldn’t take the rare human being who is successful because of a remarkable intuitive 
+sense.” 
+
+“True again, but I have merely shown that mathematical analysis is possible; I 
+have not shown it to be practical.” 
+
+“How can something be possible, yet not practical?” 
+
+“It is theoretically possible for me to visit each world of the Galaxy and greet 
+each person on each world. However, it would take far longer to do this than I have years 
+to live and, even if I was immortal, the rate at which new human beings are being born is 
+greater than the rate at which I could interview the old and, even more to the point, old 
+human beings would die in great numbers before I could ever get to them.” 
+
+“And is this sort of thing true of your mathematics of the future?” 
+
+Seldon hesitated, then went on. “It might be that the mathematics would take too 
+long to work out, even if one had a computer the size of the Universe working at 
+hyperspatial velocities. By the time any answer had been received, enough years would 
+have elapsed to alter the situation so grossly as to make the answer meaningless.” 
+
+“Why cannot the process be simplified?” Cleon asked sharply. 
+
+“Your Imperial Majesty—” Seldon felt the Emperor growing more formal as the 
+answers grew less to his liking and responded with greater formality of his own “consider 
+the manner in which scientists have dealt with subatomic particles. There are enormous 
+numbers of these, each moving or vibrating in random and unpredictable manner, but this 
+
+
+
+chaos turns out to have an underlying order, so that we can work out a quantum 
+mechanics that answers all the questions we know how to ask. In studying society, we 
+place human beings in the place of subatomic particles, but now there is the added factor 
+of the human mind. Particles move mindlessly; human beings do not. To take into 
+account the various attitudes and impulses of mind adds so much complexity that there 
+lacks time to take care of all of it.” 
+
+“Could not mind, as well as mindless motion, have an underlying order?” 
+
+“Perhaps. My mathematical analysis implies that order must underlie everything, 
+however disorderly it may appear to be, but it does not give any hint as to how this 
+underlying order may be found. Consider Twenty-five million worlds, each with its 
+overall characteristics and culture, each being significantly different from all the rest, 
+each containing a billion or more human beings who each have an individual mind, and 
+all the worlds interacting in innumerable ways and combinations! However theoretically 
+possible a psychohistorical analysis may be, it is not likely that it can be done in any 
+practical sense.” 
+
+“What do you mean ‘psychohistorical’?” 
+
+“I refer to the theoretical assessment of probabilities concerning the future as 
+‘psychohistory.’ “ 
+
+The Emperor rose to his feet suddenly, strode to the other end of the room, turned, 
+strode back, and stopped before the still-sitting Seldon. 
+
+“Stand up!” he commanded. 
+
+Seldon rose and looked up at the somewhat taller Emperor. He strove to keep his 
+gaze steady. 
+
+Cleon finally said, “This psychohistory of yours ... if it could be made practical, 
+it would be of great use, would it not?” 
+
+“Of enormous use, obviously. To know what the future holds, in even the most 
+general and probabilistic way, would serve as a new and marvelous guide for our actions, 
+one that humanity has never before had. But, of course—” He paused. 
+
+“Well?” said Cleon impatiently. 
+
+“Well, it would seem that, except for a few decision-makers, the results of 
+psychohistorical analysis would have to remain unknown to the public.” 
+
+“Unknown!” exclaimed Cleon with surprise. 
+
+“It’s clear. Let me try to explain. If a psychohistorical analysis is made and the 
+results are then given to the public, the various emotions and reactions of humanity 
+would at once be distorted. The psychohistorical analysis, based on emotions and 
+reactions that take place without knowledge of the future, become meaningless. Do you 
+understand?” 
+
+The Emperor’s eyes brightened and he laughed aloud. “Wonderful!” 
+
+He clapped his hand on Seldon’ s shoulder and Seldon staggered slightly under the 
+
+blow. 
+
+“Don’t you see, man?” said Cleon. “Don’t you see? There’s your use. You don’t 
+need to predict the future. Just choose a future— a good future, a useful future— and make 
+the kind of prediction that will alter human emotions and reactions in such a way that the 
+future you predicted will be brought about. Better to make a good future than predict a 
+bad one.” 
+
+Seldon frowned. “I see what you mean, Sire, but that is equally impossible.” 
+
+
+
+“Impossible?” 
+
+“Well, at any rate, impractical. Don’t you see? If you can’t start with human 
+emotions and reactions and predict the future they will bring about, you can’t do the 
+reverse either. You can’t start with a future and predict the human emotions and reactions 
+that will bring it about.” 
+
+Cleon looked frustrated. His lips tightened. “And your paper, then? ... Is that 
+what you call it, a paper? ... Of what use is it?” 
+
+“It was merely a mathematical demonstration. It made a point of interest to 
+mathematicians, but there was no thought in my mind of its being useful in any way.” 
+
+“I find that disgusting, “ said Cleon angrily. 
+
+Seldon shrugged slightly. More than ever, he knew he should never have given 
+the paper. What would become of him if the Emperor took it into his head that he had 
+been made to play the fool? 
+
+And indeed, Cleon did not look as though he was very far from believing that. 
+
+“Nevertheless, “ he said, “what if you were to make predictions of the future, 
+mathematically justified or not; predictions that government officials, human beings 
+whose expertise it is to know what the public is likely to do, will judge to be the kind that 
+will bring about useful reactions?” 
+
+“Why would you need me to do that? The government officials could make those 
+predictions themselves and spare the middleman.” 
+
+“The government officials could not do so as effectively. Government officials do 
+make statements of the sort now and then. They are not necessarily believed.” 
+
+“Why would I be?” 
+
+“You are a mathematician. You would have calculated the future, not . . . not 
+intuited it— if that is a word.” 
+
+“But I would not have done so.” 
+
+“Who would know that?” Cleon watched him out of narrowed eyes. 
+
+There was a pause. Seldon felt trapped. If given a direct order by the Emperor, 
+would it be safe to refuse? If he refused, he might be imprisoned or executed. Not without 
+trial, of course, but it is only with great difficulty that a trial can be made to go against the 
+wishes of a heavy-handed officialdom, particularly one under the command of the 
+Emperor of the vast Galactic Empire. 
+
+He said finally, “It wouldn’t work.” 
+
+“Why not?” 
+
+“If I were asked to predict vague generalities that could not possibly come to pass 
+until long after this generation and, perhaps, the next were dead, we might get away with 
+it, but, on the other hand, the public would pay little attention. They would not care about 
+a glowing eventuality a century or two in the future. 
+
+“To attain results, “ Seldon went on, “I would have to predict matters of sharper 
+consequence, more immediate eventualities. Only to these would the public respond. 
+Sooner or later, though and probably sooner one of the eventualities would not come to 
+pass and my usefulness would be ended at once. With that, your popularity might be 
+gone, too, and, worst of all, there would be no further support for the development of 
+psychohistory so that there would be no chance for any good to come of it if future 
+improvements in mathematical insights help to make it move closer to the realm of 
+practicality.” 
+
+
+
+Cleon threw himself into a chair and frowned at Seldon. “Is that all you 
+mathematicians can do? Insist on impossibilities?” 
+
+Seldon said with desperate softness, “It is you, Sire, who insist on 
+impossibilities.” 
+
+“Let me test you, man. Suppose I asked you to use your mathematics to tell me 
+whether I would some day be assassinated? What would you say?” 
+
+“My mathematical system would not give an answer to so specific a question, 
+even if psychohistory worked at its best. All the quantum mechanics in the world cannot 
+make it possible to predict the behavior of one lone electron, only the average behavior of 
+many.” 
+
+“You know your mathematics better than I do. Make an educated guess based on 
+it. Will I someday be assassinated?” 
+
+Seldon said softly, “You lay a trap for me, Sire. Either tell me what answer you 
+wish and I will give it to you or else give me free right to make what answer I wish 
+without punishment.” 
+
+“Speak as you will.” 
+
+“Your word of honor?” 
+
+“Do you want it an writing?” Cleon was sarcastic. 
+
+“Your spoken word of honor will be sufficient, “ said Seldon, his heart sinking, 
+for he was not certain it would be. 
+
+“You have my word of honor.” 
+
+“Then I can tell you that in the past four centuries nearly half the Emperors have 
+been assassinated, from which I conclude that the chances of your assassination are 
+roughly one in two.” 
+
+“Any fool can give that answer, “ said Cleon with contempt. “It takes no 
+mathematician.” 
+
+“Yet I have told you several times that my mathematics is useless for practical 
+problems.” 
+
+“Can’t you even suppose that I learn the lessons that have been given me by my 
+unfortunate predecessors?” 
+
+Seldon took a deep breath and plunged in. “No, Sire. All history shows that we do 
+not learn from the lessons of the past. For instance, you have allowed me here in a private 
+audience. What if it were in my mind to assassinate you? —Which it isn’t, Sire, “ he 
+added hastily. 
+
+Cleon smiled without humor. “My man, you don’t take into account our 
+thoroughness— or advances in technology. We have studied your history, your complete 
+record. When you arrived, you were scanned. Your expression and voiceprints were 
+analyzed. We knew your emotional state in detail; we practically knew your thoughts. 
+
+Had there been the slightest doubt of your harmlessness, you would not have been 
+allowed near me. In fact, you would not now be alive.” 
+
+A wave of nausea swept through Seldon, but he continued. “Outsiders have 
+always found it difficult to get at Emperors, even with technology less advanced. 
+However, almost every assassination has been a palace coup. It is those nearest the 
+Emperor who are the greatest danger to him. Against that danger, the careful screening of 
+outsiders is irrelevant. And as for your own officials, your own Guardsmen, your own 
+intimates, you cannot treat them as you treat me.” 
+
+
+
+Cleon said, “I know that, too, and at least as well as you do. The answer is that I 
+treat those about me fairly and I give them no cause for resentment.” 
+
+“A foolish—” began Seldon, who then stopped in confusion. 
+
+“Go on, “ said Cleon angrily. “I have given you permission to speak freely. How 
+am I foolish?” 
+
+“The word slipped out, Sire. I meant ‘irrelevant.’ Your treatment of your 
+intimates is irrelevant. You must be suspicious; it would be inhuman not to be. A careless 
+word, such as the one I used, a careless gesture, a doubtful expression and you must 
+withdraw a bit with narrowed eyes. And any touch of suspicion sets in motion a vicious 
+cycle. The intimate will sense and resent the suspicion and will develop a changed 
+behavior, try as he might to avoid it. You sense that and grow more suspicious and, in the 
+end, either he is executed or you are assassinated. It is a process that has proved 
+unavoidable for the Emperors of the past four centuries and it is but one sign of the 
+increasing difficulty of conducting the affairs of the Empire.” 
+
+“Then nothing I can do will avoid assassination.” 
+
+“No, Sire, “ said Seldon, “but, on the other hand, you may prove fortunate.” 
+
+Cleon’s fingers were drumming on the arm of his chair. He said harshly, “You are 
+useless, man, and so is your psychohistory. Leave me.” And with those words, the 
+Emperor looked away, suddenly seeming much older than his thirty-two years. 
+
+“I have said my mathematics would be useless to you, Sire. My profound 
+apologies.” 
+
+Seldon tried to bow but at some signal he did not see, two guards entered and took 
+him away. Cleon’s voice came after him from the royal chamber. “Return that man to the 
+place from which he was brought earlier.” 
+
+4 . 
+
+Eto Demerzel emerged and glanced at the Emperor with a hint of proper 
+deference. He said, “Sire, you have almost lost your temper.” 
+
+Cleon looked up and, with an obvious effort, managed to smile. “Well, so I did. 
+The man was very disappointing.” 
+
+“And yet he promised no more than he offered.” 
+
+“He offered nothing.” 
+
+“And promised nothing, Sire.” 
+
+“It was disappointing.” 
+
+Demerzel said, “More than disappointing, perhaps. The man is a loose cannon, 
+
+Sire.” 
+
+“A loose what, Demerzel? You are always so full of strange expressions. What is 
+a cannon?” 
+
+Demerzel said gravely, “It is simply an expression I heard in my youth, Sire. The 
+Empire is full of strange expressions and some are unknown on Trantor, as those of 
+Trantor are sometimes unknown elsewhere.” 
+
+“Do you come to teach me the Empire is large? What do you mean by saying that 
+the man is a loose cannon?” 
+
+“Only that he can do much harm without necessarily intending it. He does not 
+know his own strength. Or importance.” 
+
+
+
+“You deduce that, do you, Demerzel?” 
+
+“Yes, Sire. He is a provincial. He does not know Trantor or its ways. He has never 
+been on our planet before and he cannot behave like a man of breeding, like a courtier. 
+Yet he stood up to 
+
+“And why not? I gave him permission to speak. I left off ceremony. I treated him 
+as an equal.” 
+
+“Not entirely, Sire. You don’t have it within you to treat others as equals. You 
+have the habit of command. And even if you tried to put a person at his ease, there would 
+be few who could manage it. Most would be speechless or, worse, subservient and 
+sycophantic. This man stood up to you.” 
+
+“Well, you may admire that, Demerzel, but I didn’t like him.” Cleon looked 
+thoughtfully discontented. “Did you notice that he made no effort to explain his 
+mathematics to me? It was as though he knew I would not understand a word of it.” 
+
+“Nor would you have, Sire. You are not a mathematician, nor a scientist of any 
+kind, nor an artist. There are many fields of knowledge in which others know more than 
+you. It is their task to use their knowledge to serve you. You are the Emperor, which is 
+worth all their specializations put together.” 
+
+“Is it? I would not mind being made to feel ignorant by an old man who had 
+accumulated knowledge over many years. But this man, Seldon, is just my age. How does 
+he know so much?” 
+
+“He has not had to learn the habit of command, the art of reaching a decision that 
+will affect the lives of others.” 
+
+“Sometimes, Demerzel, I wonder if you are laughing at me.” 
+
+“Sire?” said Demerzel reproachfully. 
+
+“But never mind. Back to that loose cannon of yours. Why should you consider 
+him dangerous? He seems a naive provincial to me.” 
+
+“He is. But he has this mathematical development of his.” 
+
+“He says it is useless.” 
+
+“You thought it might be useful. I thought so, after you had explained it to me. 
+Others might. The mathematician may come to think so himself, now that his mind has 
+been focused on it. And who knows, he may yet work out some way of making use of it. 
+If he does, then to foretell the future, however mistily, is to be in a position of great 
+power. Even if he does not wish power for himself, a kind of self-denial that always 
+seems to me to be unlikely, he might be used by others.” 
+
+“I tried to use him. He would not.” 
+
+“He had not given it thought. Perhaps now he will. And if he was not interested in 
+being used by you, might he not be persuaded by— let us say— the Mayor of Wye?” 
+
+“Why should he be willing to help Wye and not us?” 
+
+“As he explained, it is hard to predict the emotions and behavior of individuals.” 
+
+Cleon scowled and sat in thought. “Do you really think he might develop this 
+psychohistory of his to the point where it is truly useful? He is so certain he cannot.” 
+
+“He may, with time, decide he was wrong in denying the possibility.” 
+
+Cleon said, “Then I suppose I ought to have kept him.” 
+
+Demerzel said, “No, Sire. Your instinct was correct when you let him go. 
+Imprisonment, however disguised, would cause resentment and despair, which would not 
+help him either to develop his ideas further or make him eager to help us. Better to let 
+
+
+
+him go as you have done, but to keep him forever on an invisible leash. In this way, we 
+can see that he is not used by an enemy of yourself, Sire, and we can see that when the 
+time comes and he has fully developed his science, we can pull on our leash and bring 
+him in. Then we could be . . . more persuasive.” 
+
+“But what if he it picked up by an enemy of mine or, better, of the Empire, for I 
+am the Empire after all, or if, of his own accord, he wishes to serve an enemy— I don’t 
+consider that out of the question, you see.” 
+
+“Nor should you. I will see to it that this doesn’t happen, but if, against all 
+striving, it does happen, it would be better if no one has him than if the wrong person 
+does.” 
+
+Cleon looked uneasy. “I’ll leave that all in your hands, Demerzel, but I hope 
+we’re not too hasty. He could be, after all, nothing but the purveyor of a theoretical 
+science that does not and cannot work.” 
+
+“Quite possibly, Sire, but it would be safer to assume the man is— or might be— 
+important. We lose only a little time and nothing more if we find that we have concerned 
+ourselves with a nonentity. We may lose a Galaxy if we find we have ignored someone of 
+great importance.” 
+
+“Very well, then, “ said Cleon, “but I trust I won’t have to know the details— if 
+they prove unpleasant.” 
+
+Demerzel said, “Let us hope that will not be the case.” 
+
+5 . 
+
+Seldon had had an evening, a night, and part of a morning to get over his meeting 
+with the Emperor. At least, the changing quality of light within the walkways, moving 
+corridors, squares, and parks of the Imperial Sector of Trantor made it seem that an 
+evening, a night, and part of a morning had passed. 
+
+He sat now in a small park on a small plastic seat that molded itself neatly to his 
+body and he was comfortable. Judging from the light, it seemed to be midmorning and 
+the air was just cool enough to seem fresh without possessing even the smallest bite. 
+
+Was it like this all the time? He thought of the gray day outside when he went to 
+see the Emperor. And he thought of all the gray days and cold days and hot days and 
+rainy days and snowy days on Helicon, his home, and he wondered if one could miss 
+them. Was it possible to sit in a park on Trantor, having ideal weather day after day, so 
+that it felt as though you were surrounded by nothing at all— and coming to miss a 
+howling wind or a biting cold or a breathless humidity? 
+
+Perhaps. But not on the first day or the second or the seventh. He would have only 
+this one day and he would leave tomorrow. He meant to enjoy it while he could. He 
+might, after all, never return to Trantor. 
+
+Still, he continued to feel uneasy at having spoken as independently as he had to a 
+man who could, at will, order one’s imprisonment or execution— or, at the very least, the 
+economic and social death of loss of position and status. 
+
+Before going to bed, Seldon had looked up Cleon I in the encyclopedic portion of 
+his hotel room computer. The Emperor had been highly praised as, no doubt, had all 
+Emperors in their own lifetime, regardless of their deeds. Seldon had dismissed that, but 
+he was interested in the fact that Cleon had been born in the Palace and had never left its 
+
+
+
+grounds. He had never been in Trantor itself, in any part of the multi-domed world. It was 
+a matter of security, perhaps, but what it meant was that the Emperor was in prison, 
+whether he admitted the matter to himself or not. It might be the most luxurious prison in 
+the Galaxy, but it was a prison just the same. 
+
+And though the Emperor had seemed mild-mannered and had shown no sign of 
+being a bloody-minded autocrat as so many of his predecessors had been, it was not good 
+to have attracted his attention. Seldon welcomed the thought of leaving tomorrow for 
+Helicon, even though it would be winter (and a rather nasty one, so far) back home. 
+
+He looked up at the bright diffuse light. Although it could never rain in here, the 
+atmosphere was far from dry. A fountain played not far from him; the plants were green 
+and had probably never felt drought. Occasionally, the shrubbery rustled as though a 
+small animal or two was hidden there. He heard the hum of bees. 
+
+Really, though Trantor was spoken of throughout the Galaxy as an artificial world 
+of metal and ceramic, in this small patch it felt positively rustic. 
+
+There were a few other persons taking advantage of the park all wearing light 
+hats, some quite small. There was one rather pretty young woman not far away, but she 
+was bent over a viewer and he could not see her face clearly. A man walked past, looked 
+at him briefly and incuriously, then sat down in a seat facing him and buried himself in a 
+sheaf of teleprints, crossing one leg, in its tight pink trouser leg, over the other. 
+
+There was a tendency to pastel shades among the men, oddly enough, while the 
+women mostly wore white. Being a clean environment, it made sense to wear light 
+colors. He looked down in amusement at his own Heliconian costume, which was 
+predominantly dull brown. If he were to stay on Trantor as he was not he would need to 
+purchase suitable clothing or he would become an object of curiosity or laughter or 
+repulsion. The man with the teleprints had, for instance, looked up at him more curiously 
+this time— no doubt intrigued by his Outworldish clothing. 
+
+Seldon was relieved that he did not smile. He could be philosophical over being a 
+figure of fun, but, surely, he could not be expected to enjoy it. 
+
+Seldon watched the man rather unobtrusively, for he seemed to be engaged in 
+some sort of internal debate. At the moment he looked as if he was about to speak, then 
+seemed to think better of it, then seemed to wish to speak again. Seldon wondered what 
+the outcome would be. 
+
+He studied the man. He was tall, with broad shoulders and no sign of a paunch, 
+darkish hair with a glint of blond, smooth-shaven, a grave expression, an air of strength 
+though there were no bulging muscles, a face that was a touch rugged— pleasant, but with 
+nothing “pretty” about it. 
+
+By the time the man had lost the internal fight with himself (or won, perhaps) and 
+leaned toward him, Seldon had decided he liked him. 
+
+The man said, “Pardon me, weren’t you at the Decennial Convention? 
+Mathematics?” 
+
+“Yes, I was, “ said Seldon agreeably. 
+
+“Ah, I thought I saw you there. It was— excuse me— that moment of recognition 
+that led me to sit here. If I am intruding on your privacy—” 
+
+“Not at all. I’m just enjoying an idle moment.” 
+
+“Let’s see how close I can get. You’re Professor Seldom.” 
+
+“Seldon. Hari Seldon. Quite close. And you?” 
+
+
+
+“Chetter Hummin.” The man seemed slightly embarrassed. “Rather a homespun 
+name, I’m afraid.” 
+
+“I’ve never come across any Chetters before, “ said Seldon. “Or Hummins. So 
+that makes you somewhat unique, I should think. It might be viewed as being better than 
+being mixed up with all the countless Haris there are. Or Seldons, for that matter.” 
+
+Seldon moved his chair closer to Hummin, scraping it against the slighdy elastic 
+ceramoid tiles. 
+
+“Talk about homespun, “ he said, “What about this Outworldish clothing I’m 
+wearing? It never occurred to me that I ought to get Trantorian garb.” 
+
+“You could buy some, “ said Hummin, eyeing Seldon with suppressed 
+disapproval. 
+
+“I’ll be leaving tomorrow and, besides, I couldn’t afford it. Mathematicians deal 
+with large numbers sometimes, but never in their income.— I presume you’re a 
+mathematician, Hummin.” 
+
+“No. Zero talent there.” 
+
+“Oh.” Seldon was disappointed. “You said you saw me at the Decennial 
+Convention.” 
+
+“I was there as an onlooker. I’m a journalist.” He waved his teleprints, seemed 
+suddenly aware that he was holding them and shoved them into his jacket pouch. “I 
+supply the material for the news holocasts.” Then, thoughtfully, “Actually, I’m rather 
+tired of it.” 
+
+“The job?” 
+
+Hummin nodded. “I’m sick of gathering together all the nonsense from every 
+world. I hate the downward spiral.” 
+
+He glanced speculatively at Seldon. “Sometimes something interesting turns up, 
+though. I’ve heard you were seen in the company of an Imperial Guard and making for 
+the Palace gate. You weren’t by any chance seen by the Emperor, were you?” 
+
+The smile vanished from Seldon’ s face. He said slowly, “If I was, it would 
+scarcely be something I could talk about for publication.” 
+
+“No no, not for publication. If you don’t know this, Seldon, let me be the first to 
+tell you— The first rule of the news game is that nothing is ever said about the Emperor or 
+his personal entourage except what is officially given out. It’s a mistake, of course, 
+because rumors fly that are much worse than the truth, but that’s the way it is.” 
+
+“But if you can’t report it, friend, why do you ask?” 
+
+“Private curiosity. Believe me, in my job I know a great deal more than ever gets 
+on the air.— Let me guess. I didn’t follow your paper, but I gathered that you were talking 
+about the possibility of predicting the future.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head and muttered, “It was a mistake.” 
+
+“Pardon me?” 
+
+“Nothing.” 
+
+“Well, prediction— accurate prediction— would interest the Emperor, or any man in 
+government, so I’m guessing that Cleon, First of that Name, asked you about it and 
+wouldn’t you please give him a few predictions.” 
+
+Seldon said stiffly, “I don’t intend to discuss the matter.” 
+
+Hummin shrugged slightly. “Eto Demerzel was there, I suppose. “ 
+
+“Who?” 
+
+
+
+“You’ve never heard of Eto Demerzel?” 
+
+
+“Never. “ 
+
+“Cleon’s alter ego— Cleon’s brain— Cleon’s evil spirit. He’s been called all those 
+things— if we confine ourselves to the nonvituperative. He must have been there.” 
+
+Seldon looked confused and Hummin said, “Well, you may not have seen him, 
+but he was there. And if he thinks you can predict the future” 
+
+“I can’t predict the future, “ said Seldon, shaking his head vigorously. “If you 
+listened to my paper, you’ll know that I only spoke of a theoretical possibility.” 
+
+“Just the same, if he thinks you can predict the future, he will not let you go.” 
+
+“He must have. Here I am.” 
+
+“That means nothing. He knows where you are and he’ll continue to know. And 
+when he wants you, he’ll get you, wherever you are. And if he decides you’re useful, 
+he’ll squeeze the use out of you. And if he decides you’re dangerous, he’ll squeeze the 
+life out of you.” 
+
+Seldon stared. “What are you trying to do. Frighten me?” 
+
+“I’m trying to warn you.” 
+
+“I don’t believe what you’re saying.” 
+
+“Don’t you? A while ago you said something was a mistake. Were you thinking 
+that presenting the paper was a mistake and that it was getting you into the kind of 
+trouble you don’t want to be in?” 
+
+Seldon bit his lower lip uneasily. That was a guess that came entirely too close to 
+the truth— and it was at this moment that Seldon felt the presence of intruders. 
+
+They did not cast a shadow, for the light was too soft and widespread. It was a 
+simply a movement that caught the corner of his eye— and then it stopped. 
+
+Flight 
+
+TRANTOR— . . . The capital of the First Galactic Empire . . . Under Cleon I, it had 
+its “twilight glow.” To all appearances, it was then at its peak. Its land surface of 200 
+million square kilometers was entirely domed (except for the Imperial Palace area) and 
+underlaid with an endless city that extended beneath the continental shelves. The 
+population was 40 billion and although the signs were plentiful (and clearly visible in 
+hindsight) that there were gathering problems, those who lived on Trantor undoubtedly 
+found it still the Eternal World of legend and did not expect it would ever . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+6 . 
+
+Seldon looked up. A young man was standing before him, looking down at him 
+with an expression of amused contempt. Next to him was another young man— a bit 
+younger, perhaps. Both were large and appeared to be strong. 
+
+They were dressed in an extreme of Trantorian fashion, Seldon judged— boldly 
+clashing colors, broad fringed belts, round hats with wide brims all about and the two 
+ends of a bright pink ribbon extending from the brim to the back of the neck. 
+
+In Seldon’s eyes, it was amusing and he smiled. 
+
+The young man before him snapped, “What’ re you grinning at, misfit?” 
+
+
+
+Seldon ignored the manner of address and said gently, “Please pardon my smile. I 
+was merely enjoying your costume.” 
+
+“My costume? So? And what are you wearing? What’s that awful offal you call 
+clothes?” His hand went out and his finger flicked at the lapel of Seldon’ s jacket— 
+disgracefully heavy and dull, Seldon himself thought, in comparison to the other’s 
+lighthearted colors. 
+
+Seldon said, “I’m afraid it’s my Outworlder clothes. They’re all I have.” 
+
+He couldn’t help notice that the few others who were sitting in the small park 
+were rising to their feet and walking off. It was as though they were expecting trouble 
+and had no desire to remain in the vicinity. Seldon wondered if his new friend, Hummin, 
+was leaving too, but he felt it injudicious to take his eyes away from the young man who 
+was confronting him. He teetered back on his chair slightly. 
+
+The young man said, “You an Outworlder?” 
+
+“That’s right. Hence my clothes.” 
+
+“Hence? What kind of word’s that? Outworld word?” 
+
+“What I meant was, that was why my clothes seem peculiar to you. I’m a visitor 
+
+here.” 
+
+“From what planet?” 
+
+“Helicon.” 
+
+The young man’s eyebrows drew together. “Never heard of it.” “It’s not a large 
+planet.” 
+
+“Why don’t you go back there?” 
+
+“I intend to. I’m leaving tomorrow.” 
+
+“Sooner! Now!” 
+
+The young man looked at his partner. Seldon followed the look and caught a 
+glimpse of Hummin. He had not left, but the park was now empty except for himself, 
+Hummin, and the two young men. 
+
+Seldon said, “I’d thought I’d spend today sight-seeing.” 
+
+“No. You don’t want to do that. You go home now.” 
+
+Seldon smiled. “Sorry. I won’t.” 
+
+The young man said to his partner. “You like his clothes, Marbie?” 
+
+Marbie spoke for the first time. “No. Disgusting. Turns the stomach.” 
+
+“Can’t let him go around turning stomachs, Marbie. Not good for people’s 
+health.” 
+
+“No, not by no means, Alem, “ said Marbie. 
+
+Alem grinned. “Well now. You heard what Marbie said.” 
+
+And now Hummin spoke. He said, “Look, you two, Alem, Marbie, whatever your 
+names are. You’ve had your fun. Why don’t you go away?” 
+
+Alem, who had been leaning slightly toward Seldon, straightened and turned. 
+“Who are you?” 
+
+“That’s not your business, “ snapped Hummin. 
+
+“You’re Trantorian?” asked Alem. 
+
+“Also not your business.” 
+
+Alem frowned and said, “You’re dressed Trantorian. We’re not interested in you, 
+so don’t go looking for problems.” 
+
+“I intend to stay. That means there are two of us. Two against two doesn’t sound 
+
+
+
+like your kind of fight. Why don’t you go away and get some friends so you can handle 
+two people?” 
+
+Seldon said, “I really think you ought to get away if you can, Hummin. It’s kind 
+of you to try to protect me, but I don’t want you harmed.” 
+
+“These are not dangerous people, Seldon. Just half-credit lackeys. “ 
+
+“Lackeys!” The word seemed to infuriate Alem, so that Seldon thought it must 
+have a more insulting meaning on Trantor than it had on Helicon. 
+
+“Here, Marbie, “ said Alem with a growl. “You take care of that other 
+motherlackey and I’ll rip the clothes off this Seldon. He’s the one we want. Now— 
+
+His hands came down sharply to seize Seldon’s lapels and jerk him upright. 
+Seldon pushed away, instinctively it would seem, and his chair tipped backward. He 
+seized the hands stretched toward him, his foot went up, and his chair went down. 
+
+Somehow Alem streaked overhead, turning as he did so, and came down hard on 
+his neck and back behind Seldon. 
+
+Seldon twisted as his chair went down and was quickly on his feet, staring down 
+at Alem, then looking sharply to one side for Marbie. 
+
+Alem lay unmoving, his face twisted in agony. He had two badly sprained 
+thumbs, excruciating pain in his groin, and a backbone that had been badly jarred. 
+
+Hummin’s left arm had grabbed Marbie’s neck from behind and his right arm had 
+pulled the other’s right arm backward at a vicious angle. Marbie’s face was red as he 
+labored uselessly for breath. A knife, glittering with a small laser inset, lay on the ground 
+beside them. 
+
+Hummin eased his grip slightly and said, with an air of honest concern, “You’ve 
+hurt that one badly.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I’m afraid so. If he had fallen a little differently, he would have 
+snapped his neck.” 
+
+Hummin said, “What kind of a mathematician are you?” 
+
+“A Heliconian one.” He stooped to pick up the knife and, after examining it, said, 
+“Disgusting and deadly.” 
+
+Hummin said, “An ordinary blade would do the job without requiring a power 
+source.— But let’s let these two go. I doubt they want to continue any further.” 
+
+He released Marbie, who rubbed first his shoulder then his neck. Gasping for air, 
+he turned hate-filled eyes on the two men. 
+
+Hummin said sharply, “You two had better get out of here. Otherwise we’ll have 
+to give evidence against you for assault and attempted murder. This knife can surely be 
+traced to you.” 
+
+Seldon and Hummin watched while Marbie dragged Alem to his feet and then 
+helped him stagger away, still bent in pain. They looked back once or twice, but Seldon 
+and Hummin watched impassively. 
+
+Seldon held out his hand. “How do I thank you for coming to the aid of a stranger 
+against two attackers? I doubt I would have been able to handle them both on my own.” 
+
+Hummin raised his hand in a deprecatory manner. “I wasn’t afraid of them. 
+They’re just street-brawling lackeys. All I had to do was get my hands on them— and 
+yours, too, of course.” 
+
+“That’s a pretty deadly grip you have, “ Seldon mused. 
+
+Hummin shrugged. “You too.” Then, without changing his tone of voice, he said, 
+
+
+
+“Come on, we’d better get out of here. We’re wasting time.” . 
+
+Seldon said, “Why do we have to get away? Are you afraid those two will come 
+
+back?” 
+
+“Not in their lifetime. But some of those brave people who cleared out of the park 
+so quickly in their eagerness to spare themselves a disagreeable sight may have alerted 
+the police.” 
+
+“Fine. We have the hoodlums’ names. And we can describe them fairly well.” 
+
+“Describe them? Why would the police want them?” 
+
+“They committed an assault—” 
+
+“Don’t be foolish. We don’t have a scratch. They’re virtually hospital bait, 
+especially Alem. We’re the ones who will be charged.” 
+
+“But that’s impossible. Those people witnessed the fact that—” 
+
+“No people will be called. Seldon, get this into your head. Those two came to find 
+you— specifically you. They were told you were wearing Heliconian clothes and you must 
+have been described precisely. Perhaps they were even shown a holograph. I suspect they 
+were sent by the people who happen to control the police, so let’s not wait any longer.” 
+
+Hummin hurried off, his hand gripping Seldon’ s upper arm. Seldon found the grip 
+impossible to shake and, feeling like a child in the hands of an impetuous nurse, 
+followed. 
+
+They plunged into an arcade and, before Seldon’s eyes grew accustomed to the 
+dimmer light, they heard the burring sound of a ground-car’s brakes. 
+
+“There they are, “ muttered Hummin. “Faster, Seldon.” They hopped onto a 
+moving corridor and lost themselves in the crowd. 
+
+7 . 
+
+Seldon had tried to persuade Hummin to take him to his hotel room, but Hummin 
+would have none of that. 
+
+“Are you mad?” he half-whispered. “They’ll be waiting for you there.” 
+
+“But all my belongings are waiting for me there too.” 
+
+“They’ll just have to wait.” 
+
+And now they were in a small room in a pleasant apartment structure that might 
+be anywhere for all that Seldon could tell. He looked about the one-room unit. Most of it 
+was taken up by a desk and chair, a bed, and a computer outlet. There were no dining 
+facilities or washstand of any kind, though Hummin had directed him to a communal 
+washroom down the hall. Someone had entered before Seldon was quite through. He had 
+cast one brief and curious look at Seldon’s clothes, rather than at Seldon himself, and had 
+then looked away. 
+
+Seldon mentioned this to Hummin, who shook his head and said, “We’ll have to 
+get rid of your clothes. Too bad Helicon is so far out of fashion—” 
+
+Seldon said impatiently, “How much of this might just be your imagination, 
+Hummin? You’ve got me half-convinced and yet it may be merely a kind of . . . of—” 
+
+“Are you groping for the word ‘paranoia’?” 
+
+“All right, I am. This may be some strange paranoid notion of yours.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Think about it, will you? I can’t argue it out mathematically, but 
+you’ve seen the Emperor. Don’t deny it. He wanted something from you and you didn’t 
+give it to him. Don’t deny that either. I suspect that details of the future are what he wants 
+and you refused. Perhaps Demerzel thinks you’re only pretending not to have the details 
+
+
+
+that you’re holding out for a higher price or that someone else is bidding for it too. Who 
+knows? I told you that if Demerzel wants you, he’ll get you wherever you are. I told you 
+that before those two splitheads ever appeared on the scene. I’m a journalist and a 
+Trantorian. I know how these things go. At one point, Alem said, ‘He’s the one we want.’ 
+Do you remember that?” 
+
+“As it happens, “ said Seldon. “I do.” 
+
+“To him I was only the ‘other motherlackey’ to be kept off, while he went about 
+the real job of assaulting you.” 
+
+Hummin sat down in the chair and pointed to the bed. “Stretch out, Seldon. Make 
+yourself comfortable. Whoever sent those two, it must have been Demerzel, in my 
+opinion, can send others, so we’ll have to get rid of those clothes of yours. I think any 
+other Heliconian in this sector caught in his own world’s garb is going to have trouble 
+until he can prove he isn’t you.” 
+
+“Oh come on.” 
+
+“I mean it. You’ll have to take off the clothes and we’ll have to atomize them— if 
+we can get close enough to a disposal unit without being seen. And before we can do that 
+I’ll have to get you a Trantorian outfit. You’re smaller than I am and I’ll take that into 
+account. It won’t matter if it doesn’t fit exactly—” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “I don’t have the credits to pay for it. Not on me. What 
+credits I have, and they aren���t much, am in my hotel safe.” 
+
+“We’ll worry about that another time. You’ll have to stay here for an hour or two 
+while I go out in search of the necessary clothing.” 
+
+Seldon spread his hands and sighed resignedly. “All right. If it’s that important, 
+
+I’ll stay.” 
+
+“You won’t try to get back to your hotel? Word of honor?” 
+
+“My word as a mathematician. But I’m really embarrassed by all the trouble 
+you’re taking for me. And expense too. After all, despite all this talk about Demerzel, 
+they weren’t really out to hurt me or carry me off. All I was threatened with was the 
+removal of my clothes.” 
+
+“Not all. They were also going to take you to the spaceport and put you on a 
+hypership to Helicon.” 
+
+“That was a silly threat, not to be taken seriously.” 
+
+“Why not?” 
+
+“I’m going to Helicon. I told them so. I’m going tomorrow.” 
+
+“And you still plan to go tomorrow?” asked Hummin. 
+
+“Certainly. Why not?” 
+
+“There are enormous reasons why not.” 
+
+Seldon suddenly felt angry. “Come on, Hummin, I can’t play this game any 
+further. I’m finished here and I want to go home. My tickets are in the hotel room. 
+Otherwise I’d try to exchange them for a trip today. I mean it.” 
+
+“You can’t go back to Helicon.” 
+
+Seldon flushed. “Why not? Are they waiting for me there too?” 
+
+Hummin nodded. “Don’t fire up, Seldon. They would be waiting for you there 
+too. Listen to me. If you go to Helicon, you are as good as in Demerzel’s hands. Helicon 
+is good, safe Imperial territory. Has Helicon ever rebelled, ever fallen into step behind the 
+banner of an anti Emperor?” 
+
+
+
+“No, it hasn’t, and for good reason. It’s surrounded by larger worlds. It depends 
+on the Imperial peace for security.” 
+
+“Exactly! Imperial forces on Helicon can therefore count on the full cooperation 
+of the local government. You would be under constant surveillance at all times. Any time 
+Demerzel wants you, he will be able to have you. And, except for the fact that I am now 
+warning you, you would have no knowledge of this and you would be working in the 
+open, filled with a false security.” 
+
+“That’s ridiculous. If he wanted me in Helicon, why didn’t he simply leave me to 
+myself? I was going there tomorrow. Why would he send those two hoodlums simply to 
+hasten the matter by a few hours and risk putting me on my guard?” 
+
+“Why should he think you would be put on your guard? He didn’t know I’d be 
+with you, immersing you in what you call my paranoia.” 
+
+“Even without the question of warning me, why all the fuss to hurry me by a few 
+hours?” 
+
+“Perhaps because he was afraid you would change your mind.” 
+
+“And go where, if not home? If he could pick me up on Helicon, he could pick me 
+up anywhere. He could pick me up on . . . on Anacreon, a good ten thousand parsecs 
+away, if it should fall into my head to go there. What’s distance to hyperspatial ships? 
+Even if I find a world that’s not quite as subservient to the Imperial forces as Helicon is, 
+what world is in actual rebellion? The Empire is at peace. Even if some worlds are still 
+resentful of injustices in the past, none are going to defy the Imperial armed forces to 
+protect me. Moreover, anywhere but on Helicon I won’t be a local citizen and there won’t 
+even be that matter of principle to help keep the Empire at bay.” 
+
+Hummin listened patiently, nodding slightly, but looking as grave and as 
+imperturbable as ever. He said, “You’re right, as far as you go, but there’s one world that 
+is not really under the Emperor’s control. That, I think, is what must be disturbing 
+Demerzel.” 
+
+Seldon thought a while, reviewing recent history and finding himself unable to 
+choose a world on which the Imperial forces might be helpless. He said at last, “What 
+world is that?” 
+
+Hummin said, “You’re on it, which is what makes the matter so dangerous in 
+Demerzel’s eyes, I imagine. It is not so much that he is anxious to have you go to 
+Helicon, as that he is anxious to have you leave Trantor before it occurs to you, for any 
+reason, even if only tourist’s mania to stay.” 
+
+The two men sat in silence until Seldon finally said sardonically, “Trantor! The 
+capital of the Empire, with the home base of the fleet on a space station in orbit about it, 
+with the best units of the army quartered here. If you believe that it is Trantor that is the 
+safe world, you’re progressing from paranoia to outright fantasy.” 
+
+“No! You’re an Outworlder, Seldon. You don’t know what Trantor is like. It’s 
+forty billion people and there are few other worlds with even a tenth of its population. It 
+is of unimaginable technological and cultural complexity. Where we are now is the 
+Imperial Sector, with the highest standard of living in the Galaxy and populated entirely 
+by Imperial functionaries. Elsewhere on the planet, however, are over eight hundred other 
+sectors, some of them with subcultures totally different from what we have here and most 
+of them untouchable by Imperial forces.” 
+
+“Why untouchable?” 
+
+
+
+“The Empire cannot seriously exert force against Trantor. To do so would be 
+bound to shake some facet or other of the technology on which the whole planet depends. 
+The technology is so interrelated that to snap one of the interconnections is to cripple the 
+whole. Believe me, Seldon, we on Trantor observe what happens when there is an 
+earthquake that manages to escape being damped out, a volcanic eruption that is not 
+vented in time, a storm that is not defused, or just some human error that escapes notice. 
+The planet totters and every effort must be made to restore the balance at once.” 
+
+“I have never heard of such a thing.” 
+
+A small smile flickered its way across Hummin’s face. “Of course not. Do you 
+want the Empire to advertise the weakness at its core? However, as a journalist, I know 
+what happens even when the Outworlds don’t, even when much of Trantor itself doesn’t, 
+even when the Imperial pressure is interested in concealing events. Believe me! The 
+Emperor knows, and Eto Demerzel knows, even if you don’t, that to disturb Trantor may 
+destroy the Empire.” 
+
+“Then are you suggesting I stay on Trantor for that reason?” 
+
+“Yes. I can take you to a place on Trantor where you will be absolutely safe from 
+Demerzel. You won’t have to change your name and you will be able to operate entirely 
+in the open and he won’t be able to touch you. That’s why he wanted to force you off 
+Trantor at once and if it hadn’t been for the quirk of fate that brought us together and for 
+your surprising ability to defend yourself, he would have succeeded in doing so.” 
+
+“But how long will I have to remain on Trantor?” 
+
+“For as long as your safety requires it, Seldon. For the rest of your life, perhaps.” 
+
+8 . 
+
+Hari Seldon looked at the holograph of himself cast by Hummin’s projector. It 
+was more dramatic and useful than a mirror would have been. In fact, it seemed as though 
+there were two of him in the room. 
+
+Seldon studied the sleeve of his new tunic. His Heliconian attitudes made him 
+wish the colors were less vibrant, but he was thankful that, as it was, Hummin had chosen 
+softer colors than were customary here on this world. (Seldon thought of the clothing 
+worn by their two assailants and shuddered inwardly.) 
+
+He said, “And I suppose I must wear this hat.” 
+
+“In the Imperial Sector, yes. To go bareheaded here is a sign of low breeding. 
+Elsewhere, the rules are different.” 
+
+Seldon sighed. The round hat was made of soft material and molded itself to his 
+head when he put it on. The brim was evenly wide all around, but it was narrower than on 
+the hats his attackers had worn. Seldon consoled himself by noticing that when he wore 
+the hat the brim curved rather gracefully. 
+
+“It doesn’t have a strap under the chin.” 
+
+“Of course not. That’s advanced fashion for young lanks.” 
+
+“For young what?” 
+
+“A lank is someone who wears things for their shock value. I’m sure you have 
+such people on Helicon.” 
+
+Seldon snorted. “There are those who wear their hair shoulder-length on one side 
+and shave the other.” He laughed at the memory. 
+
+
+
+Hummin’s mouth twisted slightly. “I imagine it looks uncommonly ugly.” 
+
+“Worse. There are lefties and righties, apparently, and each finds the other version 
+highly offensive. The two groups often engage in street brawls.” 
+
+“Then I think you can stand the hat, especially without the strap.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Til get used to it.” 
+
+“It will attract some attention. It’s subdued for one thing and makes you look as if 
+you’re in mourning. And it doesn’t quite fit. Then, too, you wear it with obvious 
+discomfort. However, we won’t be in the Imperial Sector long. Seen enough?” And the 
+holograph flickered out. 
+
+Seldon said, “How much did this cost you?” 
+
+“What’s the difference?” 
+
+“It bothers me to be in your debt.” 
+
+“Don’t worry about it. This is my choice. But we’ve been here long enough. I will 
+have been described, I’m quite certain. They’ll track me down and they’ll come here.” 
+
+“In that case, “ said Seldon, “the credits you’re spending are a minor matter. 
+You’re putting yourself into personal danger on my account. Personal danger!” 
+
+“I know that. But it’s my free choice and I can take care of myself.” 
+
+“But why-” 
+
+“We’ll discuss the philosophy of it later. I’ve atomized your clothes, by the way, 
+and I don’t think I was seen. There was an energy surge, of course, and that would be 
+recorded. Someone might guess what happened from that, it’s hard to obscure any action 
+when probing eyes and mind are sharp enough. However, let us hope we’ll be safely 
+away before they put it all together.” 
+
+9 , 
+
+They traveled along walkways where the light was soft and yellow. Hummin’s 
+eyes moved this way and that, watchful, and he kept their pace at crowd speed, neither 
+passing nor being passed. 
+
+He kept up a mild but steady conversation on indifferent topics. 
+
+Seldon, edgy and unable to do the same, said, “There seems to be a great deal of 
+walking here. There are endless lines in both directions and along the crossovers.” 
+
+“Why not?” said Hummin. “Walking is still the best form of short distance 
+transportation. It’s the most convenient, the cheapest, and the most healthful. Countless 
+years of technological advance have not changed that. Are you acrophobic, Seldon?” 
+
+Seldon looked over the railing on his right into a deep declivity that separated the 
+two walking lanes— each in an opposite direction between the regularly spaced 
+crossovers. He shuddered slightly. “If you mean fear of heights, not ordinarily. Still, 
+looking down isn’t pleasant. How far does it go down?” 
+
+“Forty or fifty levels at this point, I think. This sort of thing is common in the 
+Imperial Sector and a few other highly developed regions. In most places, one walks at 
+what might be considered ground level.” 
+
+“I should imagine this would encourage suicide attempts.” 
+
+“Not often. There are far easier methods. Besides, suicide is not a matter of social 
+obloquy on Trantor. One can end one’s life by various recognized methods in centers that 
+exist for the purpose, if one is willing to go through some psychotherapy at first. There 
+
+
+
+are, occasional accidents, for that matter, but that’s not why I was asking about 
+acrophobia. We’re heading for a taxi rental where they know me as a journalist. I’ve done 
+favors for them occasionally and sometimes they do favors for me in return. They’ll 
+forget to record me and won’t notice that I have a companion. Of course, I’ll have to pay 
+a premium and, again of course, if Demerzel’s people lean on them hard enough, they’ll 
+have to tell the truth and put it down to slovenly accounting, but that may take 
+considerable time.” 
+
+“Where does the acrophobia come in?” 
+
+“Well, we can get there a lot faster if we use a gravitic lift. Not many people use it 
+and I must tell you that I’m not overjoyed at the idea myself, but if you think you can 
+handle it, we had better.” 
+
+“What’s a gravitic lift?” 
+
+“It’s experimental. The time may come when it will be widespread over Trantor, 
+provided it becomes psychologically acceptable, or can be made so to enough people. 
+Then, maybe, it will spread to other worlds too. It’s an elevator shaft without an elevator 
+cab, so to speak. We just step into empty space and drop slowly, or rise slowly, under the 
+influence of antigravity. It’s about the only application of antigravity that’s been 
+established so far, largely because it’s the simplest possible application.” 
+
+“What happens if the power blinks out while we’re in transit?” 
+
+“Exactly what you would think. We fall and, unless we’re quite near the bottom to 
+begin with, we die. I haven’t heard of it happening yet and, believe me, if it had happened 
+I would know. We might not be able to give out the news for security reasons, that’s the 
+excuse they always advance for hiding bad news, but I would know. It’s just up ahead. If 
+you can’t manage it, we won’t do it, but the corridors are slow and tedious and many find 
+them nauseating after a while.” 
+
+Hummin turned down a crossover and into a large recess where a line of men and 
+women were waiting, one or two with children. 
+
+Seldon said in a low voice, “I heard nothing of this back home. Of course, our 
+own news media are terribly local, but you’d think there’d be some mention that this sort 
+of thing exists.” 
+
+Hummin said. “It’s strictly experimental and is confined to the Imperial Sector. It 
+uses more energy than it’s worth, so the government is not really anxious to push it right 
+now by giving it publicity. The old Emperor, Stanel VI, the one before Cleon who 
+amazed everyone by dying in his bed, insisted on having it installed in a few places. He 
+wanted his name associated with antigravity, they say, because he was concerned with his 
+place in history, as old men of no great attainments frequendy are. As I said, the 
+technique may spread, but, on the other hand, it is possible that nothing much more than 
+the gravitic lift will ever come of it.” 
+
+“What do they want to come of it?” asked Seldon. 
+
+“Antigrav spaceflight. That, however, will require many breakthroughs and most 
+physicists, as far as I know, are firmly convinced it is out of the question. But, then, most 
+thought that even gravitic lifts were out of the question.” 
+
+The line ahead was rapidly growing shorter and Seldon found himself standing 
+with Hummin at the edge of the floor with an open gap before him. The air ahead faintly 
+glittered. Automatically, he reached out his hand and felt a light shock. It didn’t hurt, but 
+he snatched his hand back quickly. 
+
+
+
+Hummin grunted. “An elementary precaution to prevent anyone walking over the 
+edge before activating the controls.” He punched some numbers on the control board and 
+the glitter vanished. 
+
+Seldon peered over the edge, down the deep shaft. 
+
+“You might find it better, or easier, “ said Hummin, “if we link arms and if you 
+close your eyes. It won’t take more than a few seconds.” 
+
+He gave Seldon no choice, actually. He took his arm and once again there was no 
+hanging back in that firm grip. Hummin stepped into nothingness and Seldon (who heard 
+himself, to his own embarrassment, emit a small squeak) shuffled off with a lurch. 
+
+He closed his eyes tightly and experienced no sense of falling, no feeling of air 
+movement. A few seconds passed and he was pulled forward. He tripped slightly, caught 
+his balance, and found himself on solid ground. 
+
+He opened his eyes, “Did we make it?” 
+
+Hummin said dryly, “We’re not dead, “ then walked away, his grip forcing Seldon 
+to follow. 
+
+“I mean, did we get to the right level?” 
+
+“Of course.” 
+
+“What would have happened if we were dropping down and someone else was 
+moving upward?” 
+
+“There are two separate lanes. In one lane everyone drops at the same speed; in 
+the other everyone rises at the same speed. The shaft clears only when there are no people 
+within ten meters of each other. There is no chance of a collision if all works well.” 
+
+“I didn’t feel a thing.” 
+
+“Why should you? There was no acceleration. After the first tenth of a second, 
+you were at constant speed and the air in your immediate vicinity was moving down with 
+you at the same speed.” 
+
+“Marvelous.” 
+
+“Absolutely. But uneconomic. And there seems no great pressure to increase the 
+efficiency of the procedure and make it worthwhile. Everywhere one hears the same 
+refrain. ‘We can’t do it. It can’t be done.’ It applies to everything.” Hummin shrugged in 
+obvious anger and said, “But we’re here at the taxi rental. Let’s get on with it.” 
+
+10 . 
+
+Seldon tried to look inconspicuous at the air-taxi rental terminus, which he found 
+difficult. To look ostentatiously inconspicuous, to slink about, to turn his face away from 
+all who passed, to study one of the vehicles overintently, was surely the way to invite 
+attention. The way to behave was merely to assume an innocent normality. 
+
+But what was normality? He felt uncomfortable in his clothes. There were no 
+pockets, so he had no place to put his hands. The two pouches, which dangled from his 
+belt on either side, distracted him by hitting against him as he moved, so that he was 
+continually thinking someone had nudged him. 
+
+He tried looking at women as they passed. They had no pouches, at least none 
+dangling, but they carried little boxlike affairs that they occasionally clipped to one hip or 
+another by some device he could not make out. It was probably pseudomagnetic, he 
+decided. Their clothes were not particularly revealing, he noted regretfully, and not one 
+
+
+
+had any sign of decolletage, although some dresses seemed to be designed to emphasize 
+the buttocks. 
+
+Meanwhile, Hummin had been very businesslike, having presented the necessary 
+credits and returned with the superconductive ceramic tile that would activate a specific 
+air-taxi. 
+
+Hummin said, “Get in, Seldon, “ gesturing to a small two-seated vehicle. 
+
+Seldon asked, “Did you have to sign your name, Hummin?” 
+
+“Of course not. They know me here and don’t stand on ceremony. “ 
+
+“What do they think you’re doing?” 
+
+“They didn’t ask and I volunteered no information.” He inserted the tile and 
+Seldon felt a slight vibration as the air- taxi came to life. 
+
+“We’re headed for D-7, “ said Hummin, making conversation. 
+
+Seldon didn’t know what D-7 was, but he assumed it meant some route or other. 
+
+The air-taxi found its way past and around other ground-cars and finally moved 
+onto a smooth upward-slanting track and gained speed. Then it lifted upward with a slight 
+jolt. 
+
+Seldon, who had been automatically strapped in by a webbed restraint, felt 
+himself pushed down into his seat and then up against the webbing. 
+
+He said, “That didn’t feel like antigravity.” 
+
+“It wasn’t, “ said Hummin. “That was a small jet reaction. Just enough to take us 
+up to the tubes.” 
+
+What appeared before them now looked like a cliff patterned with cave openings, 
+much like a checkerboard. Hummin maneuvered toward the D-7 opening, avoiding other 
+air-taxis that were heading for other tunnels. 
+
+“You could crash easily, “ said Seldon, clearing his throat. 
+
+“So I probably would if everything depended on my senses and reactions, but the 
+taxi is computerized and the computer can overrule me without trouble. The same is true 
+for the other taxis. Here we go.” 
+
+They slid into D-7 as if they had been sucked in and the bright light of the open 
+plaza outside mellowed, turning a warmer yellow hue. 
+
+Hummin released the controls and sat back. He drew a deep breath and said, 
+
+“Well, that’s one stage successfully carried through. We might have been stopped at the 
+station. In here, we’re fairly safe.” 
+
+The ride was smooth and the walls of the tunnel slipped by rapidly. There was 
+almost no sound, just a steady velvety whirr as the taxi sped along. 
+
+“How fast are we going?” asked Seldon. 
+
+Hummin cast an eye briefly at the controls. “Three hundred and fifty kilometers 
+per hour.” 
+
+“Magnetic propulsion?” 
+
+“Yes. You have it on Helicon, I imagine.” 
+
+“Yes. One line. I’ve never been on it myself, though I’ve always meant to. I don’t 
+think it’s anything like this.” 
+
+“I’m sure it isn’t. Trantor has many thousands of kilometers of these tunnels 
+honeycombing the land subsurface and a number that snake under the shallower 
+extensions of the ocean. It’s the chief method of long-distance travel.” 
+
+“How long will it take us?” 
+
+
+
+“To reach our immediate destination? A little over five hours.” 
+
+“Five hours!” Seldon was dismayed. 
+
+“Don’t be disturbed. We pass rest areas every twenty minutes or so where we can 
+stop, pull out of the tunnel, stretch our feet, cat, or relieve ourselves. I’d like to do that as 
+few times as possible, of course. “ 
+
+They continued on in silence for a while and then Seldon started when a blaze of 
+light flared at their right for a few seconds and, in the flash, he thought he saw two air- 
+taxis. 
+
+“That was a rest area, “ said Hummin in answer to the unspoken question. 
+
+Seldon said, “Am I really going to be safe wherever it is you are taking me?” 
+
+Hummin said, “Quite safe from any open movement on the part of the Imperial 
+forces. Of course, when it comes to the individual operator, the spy, the agent, the hired 
+assassin, one must always be careful. Naturally, I will supply you with a bodyguard.” 
+
+Seldon felt uneasy. “The hired assassin? Are you serious? Would they really want 
+to kill me?” 
+
+Hummin said, “I’m sure Demerzel doesn’t. I suspect he wants to use you rather 
+than kill you. Still, other enemies may turn up or there may be unfortunate concatenations 
+of events. You can’t go through life sleepwalking.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head and turned his face away. To think, only forty eight hours 
+ago he had been just an insignificant, virtually unknown Outworld mathematician, 
+content only to spend his remaining time on Trantor sight-seeing, gazing at the enormity 
+of the great world with his provincial eye. And now, it was finally sinking in: He was a 
+wanted man, hunted by Imperial forces. The enormity of the situation seized him and he 
+shuddered. 
+
+“And what about you and what you’re doing right now?” 
+
+Hummin said thoughtfully, “Well, they won’t feel kindly toward me, I suppose. I 
+might have my head laid open or my chest exploded by some mysterious and never-found 
+assailant.” 
+
+Hummin said it without a tremor in his voice or a change in his calm appearance, 
+but Seldon winced. 
+
+Seldon said, “I rather thought you would assume that might be in store for you. 
+You don’t seem to be . . . bothered by it.” 
+
+“I’m an old Trantorian. I know the planet as well as anybody can. I know many 
+people and many of them are under obligation to me. I like to think that I am shrewd and 
+not easy to outwit. In short, Seldon, I am quite confident that I can take care of myself.” 
+
+“I’m glad you feel that way and I hope you’re justified in thinking so, Hummin, 
+but I can’t get it through my head why you’re taking this chance at all. What am I to you? 
+Why should you take even the smallest risk for someone who is a stranger to you?” 
+
+Hummin checked the controls in a preoccupied manner and then he faced Seldon 
+squarely, eyes steady and serious. ‘ 
+
+“I want to save you for the same reason that the Emperor wants to use you, for 
+your predictive powers.” 
+
+Seldon felt a deep pang of disappointment. This was not after all a question of 
+being saved. He was merely the helpless and disputed prey of competing predators. He 
+said angrily, “I will never live down that presentation at the Decennial Convention. I have 
+ruined my life.” 
+
+
+
+“No. Don’t rush to conclusions, mathematician. The Emperor and his officers 
+want you for one reason only, to make their own lives more secure. They are interested in 
+your abilities only so far as they might be used to save the Emperor’s rule, preserve that 
+rule for his young son, maintain the positions, status, and power of his officials. I, on the 
+other hand, want your powers for the good of the Galaxy.,, 
+
+“Is there a distinction?” spat Seldon acidly. 
+
+And Hummin replied with the stern beginning of a frown, “If you do not see the 
+distinction, then that is to your shame. The human occupants of the Galaxy existed before 
+this Emperor who now rules, before the dynasty he represents, before the Empire itself. 
+Humanity is far older than the Empire. It may even be far older than the twentyfive 
+million worlds of the Galaxy. There are legends of a time when humanity inhabited a 
+single world.” 
+
+“Legends!” said Seldon, shrugging his shoulders. 
+
+“Yes, legends, but I see no reason why that may not have been so in fact, twenty 
+thousand years ago or more. I presume that humanity did not come into existence 
+complete with knowledge of hyperspatial travel. Surely, there must have been a time 
+when people could not travel at superluminal velocities and they must then have been 
+imprisoned in a single planetary system. And if we look forward in time, the human 
+beings of the worlds of the Galaxy will surely continue to exist after you and the Emperor 
+are dead, after his whole line comes to an end, and after the institutions of the Empire 
+itself unravel. In that case, it is not important to worry overmuch about individuals, about 
+the Emperor and the young Prince Imperial. It is not important to worry even about the 
+mechanics of Empire. What of the quadrillions of people that exist in the Galaxy? What 
+of them?” 
+
+Seldon said, “Worlds and people would continue, I presume.” 
+
+“Don’t you feel any serious need of probing the possible conditions under which 
+they would continue to exist. 
+
+“One would assume they would exist much as they do now.” 
+
+“One would assume. But could one know by this art of prediction that you speak 
+
+of?” 
+
+“Psychohistory is what I call it. In theory, one could.” 
+
+“And you feel no pressure to turn that theory into practice.” 
+
+“I would love to, Hummin, but the desire to do so doesn’t automatically 
+manufacture the ability to do so. I told the Emperor that psychohistory could not be 
+turned into a practical technique and I am forced to tell you the same thing.” 
+
+“And you have no intention of even trying to find the technique?” 
+
+“No, I don’t, any more than I would feel I ought to try to tackle a pile of pebbles 
+the size of Trantor, count them one by one, and arrange them in order of decreasing mass. 
+I would know it was not something I could accomplish in a lifetime and I would not be 
+fool enough to make a pretense of trying.” 
+
+“Would you try if you knew the truth about humanity’s situation?” 
+
+“That’s an impossible question. What it the truth about humanity’s situation? Do 
+you claim to know it?” 
+
+“Yes, I do. And in five words.” Hummin’s eyes faced forward again, turning 
+briefly toward the blank changelessness of the tunnel as it pushed toward them, 
+expanding until it passed and then dwindling as it slipped away. He then spoke those five 
+
+
+
+words grimly. 
+
+He said, “The Galactic Empire is dying.” 
+
+
+University 
+
+
+STREELING UNIVERSITY—. . . An institution of higher learning in the 
+Streeling Sector of ancient Trantor . . . Despite all these claims to fame in the fields of the 
+humanities and silences alike, it is not for those that the University looms large in today’s 
+consciousness. It would probably have come as a coral surprise to the generations of 
+scholars at the University to know that in lacer times Streeling University would be most 
+remembered because a certain Hari Seldon, during the period of The Flight, had been in 
+residence there for a shore time. 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+11 . 
+
+Hari Seldon remained uncomfortably silent for a while after Hummin’s quiet 
+statement. He shrank within himself in sudden recognition of his own deficiencies. 
+
+He had invented a new science: psychohistory. He had extended the laws of 
+probability in a very subtle manner to take into account new complexities and 
+uncertainties and had ended up with elegant equations in innumerable unknowns. 
+
+Possibly an infinite number; he couldn’t tell. 
+
+But it was a mathematical game and nothing more. 
+
+He had psychohistory, or at least the basis of psychohistory but only as a 
+mathematical curiosity. Where was the historical knowledge that could perhaps give 
+some meaning to the empty equations? 
+
+He had none. He had never been interested in history. He knew the outline of 
+Heliconian history. Courses in that small fragment of the human story had, of course, 
+been compulsory in the Heliconian schools. But what was there beyond that? Surely what 
+else he had picked up was merely the bare skeletons that everyone gathered half legend, 
+the other half surely distorted. 
+
+S t ill, how could one say that the Galactic Empire was dying? It had existed for ten 
+thousand years as an accepted Empire and even before that, Trantor, as the capital of the 
+dominating kingdom, had held what was a virtual empire for two thousand years. The 
+Empire had survived the early centuries when whole sections of the Galaxy would now 
+and then refuse to accept the end of their local independence. It had survived the 
+vicissitudes that went with the occasional rebellions, the dynastic wars, some serious 
+periods of breakdown. Most worlds had scarcely been troubled by such things and 
+Trantor itself had grown steadily until it was the worldwide human habitation that now 
+called itself the Eternal World. 
+
+To be sure, in the last four centuries, turmoil had increased somehow and there 
+had been a rash of Imperial assassinations and takeovers. But even that was calming 
+down and right now the Galaxy was as quiet as it had ever been. Under Cleon I and 
+before him under his father, Stanel VI, the worlds were prosperous and Cleon himself 
+was not considered a tyrant. Even those who disliked the Imperium as an institution 
+rarely had anything truly bad to say about Cleon, much as they might inveigh against Eto 
+
+
+
+Demerzel. 
+
+Why, then, should Hummin say that the Galactic Empire was dying and with such 
+conviction? 
+
+Hummin was a journalist. He probably knew Galactic history in some detail and 
+he had to understand the current situation in great detail. Was it this that supplied him 
+with the knowledge that lay behind his statement? In that case, just what was the 
+knowledge? 
+
+Several times Seldon was on the point of asking, of demanding an answer, but 
+there was something in Hummin’ s solemn face that stopped him. And there was 
+something in his own ingrained belief that the Galactic Empire was a given, an axiom, 
+the foundation stone on which all argument rested that prevented him too. After all, if 
+that was wrong, he didn’t want to know. 
+
+No, he couldn’t believe that he was wrong. The Galactic Empire could no more 
+come to an end than the Universe itself could. Or, if the Universe did end, then— and only 
+then— would the Empire end. 
+
+Seldon closed his eyes, attempting to sleep but, of course, he could not. Would he 
+have to study the history of the Universe in order to advance his theory of psychohistory? 
+
+How could he? Twentyfive million worlds existed, each with its own endlessly 
+complex history. How could he study all that? There were book-films in many volumes, 
+he knew, that dealt with Galactic history. He had even skimmed one once for some now- 
+forgotten reason and had found it too dull to view even halfway through. 
+
+The book-films had dealt with important worlds. With some, it dealt through all 
+or almost all their history; with others, only as they gained importance for a time and only 
+till they faded away. He remembered having looked up Helicon in the index and having 
+found only one citation. He had punched the keys that would turn up that citation and 
+found Helicon included in a listing of worlds which, on one occasion, had temporarily 
+lined up behind a certain claimant to the Imperial throne who had failed to make good his 
+claim. Helicon had escaped retribution on that occasion, probably because it was not even 
+sufficiently important to be punished. 
+
+What good was such a history? Surely, psychohistory would have to take into 
+account the actions and reactions and interactions of each world, each and every world. 
+How could one study the history of twenty five million worlds and consider all their 
+possible interactions? It would surely be an impossible task and this was just one more 
+reinforcement of the general conclusion that psychohistory was of theoretical interest but 
+could never be put to any practical use. 
+
+Seldon felt a gentle push forward and decided that the air-taxi must be 
+decelerating. 
+
+“What’s up?” he asked. 
+
+“I think we’ve come far enough, “ said Hummin, “to risk a small stopover for a 
+bite to eat, a glass of something or other, and a visit to a washroom.” 
+
+And, in the course of the next fifteen minutes, during which the air-taxi slowed 
+steadily, they came to a lighted recess. The taxi swerved inward and found a parking spot 
+among five or six other vehicles. 
+
+
+12 . 
+
+
+
+Hummin’s practiced eye seemed to take in the recess, the other taxis, the diner, 
+the walkways, and the men and women all at a glance. Seldon, trying to look 
+inconspicuous and again not knowing how, watched him, trying not to do so too intently. 
+
+When they sat down at a small table and punched in their orders, Seldon, 
+attempting to sound indifferent, said, “Everything okay?” 
+
+“Seems so, “ said Hummin. 
+
+“How can you tell?” 
+
+Hummin let his dark eyes rest on Seldon for a moment. “Instinct, “ he said. 
+
+“Years of news gathering. You look and know, ‘No news here.’“ 
+
+Seldon nodded and felt relieved. Hummin might have said it sardonically, but 
+there must be a certain amount of truth to it. 
+
+His satisfaction did not last through the first bite of his sandwich. He looked up at 
+Hummin with his mouth full and with a look of hurt surprise on his face. 
+
+Hummin said, “This is a wayside diner, my friend. Cheap, fast, and not very good. 
+The food’s homegrown and has an infusion of rather sharp yeast. Trantorian palates are 
+used to it.” 
+
+Seldon swallowed with difficulty. “But back in the hotel—” 
+
+“You were in the Imperial Sector, Seldon. Food is imported there and where 
+microfood is used it is high-quality. It is also expensive. “ 
+
+Seldon wondered whether to take another bite. “You mean that as long as I stay 
+on Trantor— ” 
+
+Hummin made a hushing motion with his lips. “Don’t give anyone the impression 
+that you’re used to better. There are places on Trantor where to be identified as an 
+aristocrat is worse than being identified as an Outworlder. The food won’t be so bad 
+everywhere, 
+
+I assure you. These wayside places have a reputation for low quality. If you can 
+stomach that sandwich, you’ll be able to eat anywhere on Trantor. And it won’t hurt you. 
+It’s not decayed or bad or anything like that. It just has a harsh, strong taste and, honestly, 
+you may grow accustomed to it. I’ve met Trantorians who spit out honest food and say it 
+lacks that homegrown tang.” 
+
+“Do they grow much food on Trantor?” asked Seldon. A quick side glance 
+showed him there was no one seated in the immediate vicinity and he spoke quietly. “I’ve 
+always heard it takes twenty surrounding worlds to supply the hundreds of freight ships 
+required to feed Trantor every day.” 
+
+“I know. And hundreds to carry off the load of wastes. And if you want to make 
+the story really good, you say that the same freight ships carry food one way and waste 
+the other. It’s true that we import considerable quantities of food, but that’s mostly luxury 
+items. And we export considerable waste, carefully treated into inoffensiveness, as 
+important organic fertilizer, every bit as important to other worlds as the food is to us. 
+
+But that’s only a small fraction of the whole.” 
+
+“It is?” 
+
+“Yes. In addition to fish in the sea, there are gardens and truck farms everywhere. 
+And fruit trees and poultry and rabbits and vast microorganism farms, usually called 
+yeast farms, though the yeast makes up a minority of the growths. And our wastes are 
+mostly used right here at home to maintain all that growth. In fact, in many ways Trantor 
+is very much like an enormous and overgrown space settlement. Have you ever visited 
+
+
+
+one of those?” 
+
+“Indeed I have.” 
+
+“Space settlements are essentially enclosed cities, with everything artificially 
+cycled, with artificial ventilation, artificial day and night, and so on. Trantor is different 
+only in that even the largest space settlement has a population of only ten million and 
+Trantor has four thousand times that. Of course, we have real gravity. And no space 
+settlement can match us in our microfoods. We have yeast vats, fungal mats, and algae 
+ponds vast beyond the imagination. And we are strong on artificial flavoring, added with 
+no light hand. That’s what gives the taste to what you’re eating.” 
+
+Seldon had gotten through most of his sandwich and found it not as offensive as 
+the first bite had been. “And it won’t affect me?” 
+
+“It does hit the intestinal flora and every once in a while it afflicts some poor 
+Outworlder with diarrhea, but that’s rare, and you harden even to that quickly. Still, drink 
+your milkshake, which you probably won’t like. It contains an antidiarrhetic that should 
+keep you safe, even if you tend to be sensitive to such things.” 
+
+Seldon said querulously, “Don’t talk about it, Hummin. A person can be 
+suggestible to such things.” 
+
+“Finish the milkshake and forget the suggestibility.” 
+
+They finished the rest of their meal in silence and soon were on their way again. 
+
+13 . 
+
+They were now racing rapidly through the tunnel once more. Seldon decided to 
+give voice to the question that had been nagging at him for the last hour or so. 
+
+“Why do you say the Galactic Empire is dying?” 
+
+Hummin turned to look at Seldon again. “As a journalist, I have statistics poured 
+into me from all sides till they’re squeezing out of my ears. And I’m allowed to publish 
+very little of it. Trantor’s population is decreasing. Twentyfive years ago, it stood at 
+almost fortyfive billion. 
+
+“Partly, this decrease is because of a decline in the birthrate. To be sure, Trantor 
+never has had a high birthrate. If you’ll look about you when you’re traveling on Trantor, 
+you won’t encounter very many children, considering the enormous population. But just 
+the same it’s declining. Then too there is emigration. People are leaving Trantor in 
+greater numbers than are arriving.” 
+
+“Considering its large population, “ said Seldon, “that’s not surprising.” 
+
+“But it’s unusual just the same because it hasn’t happened before. Again, all over 
+the Galaxy trade is stagnating. People think that because there are no rebellions at the 
+moment and because things are quiet that all is well and that the difficulties of the past 
+few centuries are over. However, political infighting, rebellions, and unrest are all signs 
+of a certain vitality too. But now there’s a general weariness. It’s quiet, not because 
+people are satisfied and prosperous, but because they’re tired and have given up.” 
+
+“Oh, I don’t know, “ said Seldon dubiously. 
+
+“I do. And the antigrav phenomenon we’ve talked about is another case in point. 
+We have a few gravitic lifts in operation, but new ones aren’t being constructed. It’s an 
+unprofitable venture and there seems no interest in trying to make it profitable. The rate 
+of technological advance has been slowing for centuries and is down to a crawl now. In 
+
+
+
+some cases, it has stopped altogether. Isn’t this something you’ve noticed? After all, 
+you’re a mathematician.” 
+
+“I can’t say I’ve given the matter any thought.” 
+
+“No one does. It’s accepted. Scientists are very good these days at saying that 
+things are impossible, impractical, useless. They condemn any speculation at once. You, 
+for instance, What do you think of psychohistory? It is theoretically interesting, but it is 
+useless in any practical sense. Am I right?” 
+
+“Yes and no, “ said Seldon, annoyed. “It is useless in any practical sense, but not 
+because my sense of adventure has decayed, I assure you. It really it useless.” 
+
+“That, at least, “ said Hummin with a trace of sarcasm, “is your impression in this 
+atmosphere of decay in which all the Empire lives.” 
+
+“This atmosphere of decay, “ said Seldon angrily, “is your impression. Is it 
+possible that you are wrong?” 
+
+Hummin stopped and for a moment appeared thoughtful. Then he said, “Yes, I 
+might be wrong. I am speaking only from intuition, from guesses. What I need is a 
+working technique of psychohistory. “ 
+
+Seldon shrugged and did not take the bait. He said, “I don’t have such a technique 
+to give you. But suppose you’re right. Suppose the Empire it running down and will 
+eventually stop and fall apart. The human species will still exist.” 
+
+“Under what conditions, man? For nearly twelve thousand years, Trantor, under 
+strong rulers, has largely kept the peace. There’ve been interruptions to that, rebellions, 
+localized civil wars, tragedy in plenty, but, on the whole and over large areas, there has 
+been peace. Why is Helicon so pro-Imperium? Your world, I mean. Because it is small 
+and would be devoured by its neighbours were it not that the Empire keeps it secure.” 
+
+“Are you predicting universal war and anarchy if the Empire fails?” 
+
+“Of course. I’m not fond of the Emperor or of the Imperial institutions in general, 
+but I don’t have any substitute for it. I don’t know what else will keep the peace and I’m 
+not ready to let go until I have something else in hand.” 
+
+Seldon said, “You talk as though you are in control of the Galaxy. You are not 
+ready to let go? You must have something else in hand? Who are you to talk so?” 
+
+“I’m speaking generally, figuratively, “ said Hummin. “I’m not worried about 
+Chetter Hummin personally. It might be said that the Empire will last my time; it might 
+even show signs of improvement in my time. Declines don’t follow a straight-line path. It 
+may be a thousand years before the final crash and you might well imagine I would be 
+dead then and, certainly, I will leave no descendants. As far as women are concerned, I 
+have nothing but the occasional casual attachment and I have no children and intend to 
+have none. I have given no hostages to fortune. I looked you up after your talk, Seldon. 
+You have no children either.” 
+
+“I have parents and two brothers, but no children.” He smiled rather weakly. “I 
+was very attached to a woman at one time, but it seemed to her that I was attached more 
+to my mathematics.” 
+
+“Were you?” 
+
+“It didn’t seem so to me, but it seemed so to her. So she left.” 
+
+“And you have had no one since?” 
+
+“No. I remember the pain too clearly as yet.” 
+
+“Well then, it might seem we could both wait out the matter and leave it to other 
+
+
+
+people, well after our time, to suffer. I might have been willing to accept that earlier, but 
+no longer. For now I have a tool; I am in command.” 
+
+“What’s your tool?” asked Seldon, already knowing the answer. 
+
+“You!” said Hummin. 
+
+And because Seldon had known what Hummin would say, he wasted no time in 
+being shocked or astonished. He simply shook his head and said, “You are quite wrong. I 
+am no tool fit for use.” 
+
+“Why not?” 
+
+Seldon sighed. “How often must I repeat it? Psychohistory is not a practical study. 
+The difficulty is fundamental. All the space and time of the Universe would not suffice to 
+work out the necessary problems.” 
+
+“Are you certain of that?” 
+
+“Unfortunately, yes.” 
+
+“There’s no question of your working out the entire future of the Galactic Empire, 
+you know. You needn’t trace out in detail the workings of every human being or even of 
+every world. There are merely terrain questions you must answer: Will the Galactic 
+Empire crash and, if so, when? What will be the condition of humanity afterward? Can 
+anything be done to prevent the crash or to ameliorate conditions afterward? These are 
+comparatively simple questions, it seems to me.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head and smiled sadly. “The history of mathematics is full of 
+simple questions that had only the most complicated of answers, or none at all.” 
+
+“Is there nothing to be done? I can see that the Empire is falling, but I can’t prove 
+it. All my conclusions are subjective and I cannot show that I am not mistaken. Because 
+the view is a seriously unsettling one, people would prefer not to believe my subjective 
+conclusion and nothing will be done to prevent the Fall or even to cushion it. You could 
+prove the coming Fall or, for that matter, disprove it.” 
+
+“But that is exactly what I cannot do. I can’t find you proof where none exists. I 
+can’t make a mathematical system practical when it isn’t. I can’t find you two even 
+numbers that will yield an odd number as a sum, no matter how vitally your all the 
+Galaxy may need that odd number.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Well then, you’re pare of the decay. You’re ready to accept 
+failure.” 
+
+“What choice have I?” 
+
+“Can’t you try? However useless the effort may seem to you to be, have you 
+anything better to do with your life? Have you some worthier goal? Have you a purpose 
+that will justify you in your own eyes to some greater extent?” 
+
+Seldon’ s eyes blinked rapidly. “Millions of worlds. Billions of cultures. 
+Quadrillions of people. Decillions of interrelationships. And you want me to reduce it to 
+order.” 
+
+“No, I want you to try. For the sake of those millions of worlds, billions of 
+cultures, and quadrillions of people. Not for the Emperor. Not for Demerzel. For 
+humanity.” 
+
+“I will fail, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Then we will be no worse off. Will you try?” 
+
+And against his will and not knowing why, Seldon heard himself say, “I will try.” 
+And the course of his life was set. 
+
+
+
+14 . 
+
+
+The journey came to its end and the air-taxi moved into a much larger lot than the 
+one at which they had eaten. (Seldom still remembered the taste of the sandwich and 
+made a wry face.) 
+
+Hummin turned in his taxi and came back, placing his credit slip in a small pocket 
+on the inner surface of his shirt. He said, “You’re completely safe here from anything 
+outright and open. This is the Streeling Sector.” 
+
+“Streeling?” 
+
+“It’s named for someone who first opened up the area to settlement, I imagine. 
+Most of the sectors are named for someone or other, which means that most of the names 
+are ugly and some are hard to pronounce. Just the same, if you try to have the inhabitants 
+here change Streeling to Sweetsmell or something like that, you’ll have a fight on your 
+hands.” 
+
+“Of course, “ said Seldon, sniffing loudly, “it isn’t exactly Sweetsmell.” 
+
+“Hardly anywhere in Trantor is, but you’ll get used to it.” 
+
+“I’m glad we’re here, “ said Seldon. “Not that I like it, but I got quite tired sitting 
+in the taxi. Getting around Trantor must be a horror. Back on Helicon, we can get from 
+any one place to any other by air, in far less time than it took us to travel less than two 
+thousand kilometers here.” 
+
+“We have air-jets too.” 
+
+“But in that case—” 
+
+“I could arrange an air-taxi ride more or less anonymously. It would have been 
+much more difficult with an air-jet. And regardless of how safe it is here, I’d feel better if 
+Demerzel didn’t know exactly where you were. As a matter of fact, we’re not done yet. 
+We’re going to take the Expressway for the final stage.” 
+
+Seldon knew the expression. “One of those open monorails moving on an 
+electromagnetic field, right?” 
+
+“Right.” 
+
+“We don’t have them on Helicon. Actually, we don’t need them there. I rode on 
+an Expressway the first day I was on Trantor. It took me from the airport to the hotel. It 
+was rather a novelty, but if I were to use it all the time, I imagine the noise and crowds 
+would become overpowering.” 
+
+Hummin looked amused. “Did you get lost?” 
+
+“No, the signs were useful. There was trouble getting on and off, but I was 
+helped. Everyone could tell I was an Outworlder by my clothes, I now realize. They 
+seemed eager to help, though; I guess because it was amusing to watching me hesitate 
+and stumble.” 
+
+“As an expert in Expressway travel by now, you will neither hesitate nor 
+stumble.” Hummin said it pleasantly enough, though there was a slight twitch to the 
+corners of his mouth. “Come on, then.” 
+
+They sauntered leisurely along the walkway, which was lit to the extent one might 
+expect of an overcast day and that brightened now and then as though the sun 
+occasionally broke through the clouds. Automatically, Seldon looked upward to see if 
+that were indeed the case, but the “sky” above was blankly luminous. 
+
+
+
+Hummin saw this and said, “This change in brightness seems too suit the human 
+psyche. There are days when the street seems to be in bright sunlight and days when it is 
+rather darker than it is now.” 
+
+“But no rain or snow?” 
+
+“Or hail or sleet. No. Nor high humidity nor bitter cold. Trantor has its points, 
+Seldon, even now.” 
+
+There were people walking in both directions and there were a considerable 
+number of young people and also some children accompanying the adults, despite what 
+Hummin had said about the birthrate. All seemed reasonably prosperous and reputable. 
+The two sexes were equally represented and the clothing was distinctly more subdued 
+than it had been in the Imperial Sector. His own costume, as chosen by Hummin, fit right 
+in. Very few were wearing hats and Seldon thankfully removed his own and swung it at 
+his side. 
+
+There was no deep abyss separating the two sides of the walkway and as Hummin 
+had predicted in the Imperial Sector, they were walking at what seemed to be ground 
+level. There were no vehicles either and Seldon pointed this out to Hummin. 
+
+Hummin said, “There are quite a number of them in the Imperial Sector because 
+they’re used by officials. Elsewhere, private vehicles are rare and those that are used have 
+separate tunnels reserved for them. Their use is not really necessary, since we have 
+Expressways and, for shorter distances, moving corridors. For still shorter distances, we 
+have walkways and we can use our legs.” 
+
+Seldon heard occasional muted sighs and creaks and saw, some distance off, the 
+endless, passing of Expressway cars. 
+
+“There it is, “ he said, pointing. 
+
+“I know, but let us move on to a boarding station. There are more cars there and it 
+is easier to get on.” 
+
+Once they were safely ensconced in an Expressway car, Seldon turned to 
+Hummin and said, “What amazes me is how quiet the Expressways are. I realize that they 
+are mass-propelled by an electromagnetic field, but it seems quiet even for that.” He 
+listened to the occasional metallic groan as the car they were on shifted against its 
+neighbours. 
+
+“Yes, it’s a marvelous network, “ said Hummin, “but you don’t see is at its peak. 
+When I was younger, it was quieter than it is now and there are those who say that there 
+wasn’t as much as a whisper fifty years ago though I suppose we might make allowance 
+for the idealization of nostalgia.” 
+
+“Why isn’t it that way now?” 
+
+“Because it isn’t maintained properly. I told you about decay.” 
+
+Seldon frowned. “Surely, people don’t sit around and say, ‘We’re decaying. Let’s 
+let the Expressways fall apart.’ “ 
+
+“No, they don’t. It’s not a purposeful thing. Bad spots are patched, decrepit 
+coaches refurbished, magnets replaced. However, it’s done in more slapdash fashion, 
+more carelessly, and at greater intervals. There just aren’t enough credits available.” 
+
+“Where have the credits gone?” 
+
+“Into other things. We’ve had centuries of unrest. The navy is much larger and 
+many times more expensive than it once was. The armed forces are much better-paid, in 
+order to keep them quiet. Unrest, revolts, and minor blazes of civil war all take their toll.” 
+
+
+
+“But it’s been quiet under Cleon. And we’ve had fifty years of peace.” 
+
+“Yes, but soldiers who are well-paid would resent having that pay reduced just 
+because there is peace. Admirals resist mothballing ships and having themselves reduced 
+in rank simply because there is less for them to do. So the credits still go, unproductively, 
+to the armed forces and vital areas of the social good are allowed to deteriorate. That’s 
+what I call decay. Don’t you? Don’t you chink that eventually you would fit that sort of 
+view into your psychohistorical notions?” 
+
+Seldon stirred uneasily. Then he said, “Where are we going, by the way?” 
+
+“Streeling University.” 
+
+“Ah, that’s why the sector’s name was familiar. I’ve heard of the University.” 
+
+“I’m not surprised. Trantor has nearly a hundred thousand institutions of higher 
+learning and Streeling is one of the thousand or so at the top of the heap.” 
+
+“Will I be staying there?” 
+
+“For a while. University campuses are unbreathable sanctuaries, by and large. 
+
+You will be safe there.” 
+
+“But will I be welcome there?” 
+
+“Why not? It’s hard to find a good mathematician these days. They might be able 
+to use you. And you might be able to use them too-tend for more than just a hiding 
+place.” 
+
+“You mean, it will be a place where I can develop my notions.” 
+
+“You have promised, “ said Hummin gravely. 
+
+“I have promised to try, “ said Seldon and thought to himself that it was about like 
+promising to try to make a rope out of sand. 
+
+15 . 
+
+Conversation had run out after that and Seldon watched the structures of the 
+Streeling Sector as they passed. Some were quite low, while some seemed to brush the 
+“sky.” Wide crosspassages broke the progression and frequent alleys could be seen. 
+
+At one point, it struck him that though the buildings rose upward they also swept 
+downward and that perhaps they were deeper than they were high. As soon as the thought 
+occurred to him, he was convinced it was true. 
+
+Occasionally, he saw patches of green in the background, farther back from the 
+Expressway, and even small trees. 
+
+He watched for quite a while and then became aware that the light was growing 
+dimmer. He squinted about and turned to Hummin, who guessed the question. 
+
+“The afternoon is waning, “ he said, “and night is coming on.” 
+
+Seldon’s eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth turned downward. “That’s 
+impressive. I have a picture of the entire planet darkening and then, some hours from 
+now, lighting up again.” 
+
+Hummin smiled his small, careful smile. “Not quite, Seldon. The planet is never 
+turned off altogether, or turned on either. The shadow of twilight sweeps across the planet 
+gradually, followed half a day later by the slow brightening of dawn. In fact, the effect 
+follows the actual day and night above the domes quite closely, so that in higher altitudes 
+day and night change length with the seasons.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head, “But why close in the planet and then mimic what would 
+
+
+
+be in the open?” 
+
+“I presume because people like it better that way. Trantorians like the advantages 
+of being enclosed, but they don’t like to be reminded of it unduly, just the same. You 
+know very little about Trantorian psychology, Seldom” 
+
+Seldon flushed slightly. He was only a Heliconian and he knew very little about 
+the millions of worlds outside Helicon. His ignorance was not confined to Trantor. How, 
+then, could he hope to come up with any practical applications for his theory of 
+psychohistory? 
+
+How could any number of people, all together, know enough? It reminded Seldon 
+of a puzzle that had been presented to him when he was young: Can you have a relatively 
+small piece of platinum, with handholds affixed, that could not be lifted by the bare, 
+unaided strength of any number of people, no matter how many? 
+
+The answer was yes. A cubic meter of platinum weighs 22, 420 kilograms under 
+standard gravitational pull. If it is assumed that each person could heave 120 kilograms 
+up from the ground, then 188 people would suffice to lift the platinum. But you could not 
+squeeze 188 people around the cubic meter so that each one could get a grip on it. You 
+could perhaps not squeeze more than 9 people around it. And levers or other such devices 
+were not allowed. It had to be “bare, unaided strength.” 
+
+In the same way, it could be that there was no way of getting enough people to 
+handle the total amount of knowledge required for psychohistory, even if the facts were 
+stored in computers rather than in individual human brains. Only so many people could 
+gather round the knowledge, so to speak, and communicate it. 
+
+Hummin said, “You seem to be in a brown study, Seldon.” 
+
+“I’m considering my own ignorance.” 
+
+“A useful task. Quadrillions could profitably join you. But it’s time to get off.” 
+
+Seldon looked up. “How can you tell?” 
+
+“Just as you could tell when you were on the Expressway your first day on 
+Trantor. I go by the signs.” 
+
+Seldon caught one just as it went by: STREELING UNIVERSITY-3 MINUTES. 
+
+“We get off at the next boarding station. Watch your step.” 
+
+Seldon followed Hummin off the coach, noting that the sky was deep purple now 
+and that the walkways and corridors and buildings were all lighting up, suffused with a 
+yellow glow. 
+
+It might have been the gathering of a Heliconian night. Had he been placed here 
+blindfolded and had the blindfold been removed, he might have been convinced that he 
+was in some particularly well-built-up inner region of one of Helicon’s larger cities. 
+
+“How long do you suppose I will remain at Streeling University, Hummin?” he 
+
+asked. 
+
+Hummin said in his usual calm fashion, “That would be hard to say, Seldon. 
+Perhaps your whole life.” 
+
+“What!’ 
+
+“Perhaps not. But your life stopped being your own once you gave that paper on 
+psychohistory. The Emperor and Demerzel recognized your importance at once. So did I. 
+For all I know, so did many others. You see, that means you don’t belong to yourself 
+anymore.” 
+
+
+
+Library 
+
+
+VENABILI, DORS—. . . Historian, born in Cinna . . . Her life might well have 
+continued on its uneventful course were it not for the face that, after she had spent two 
+years on the faculty of Streeling University, she became involved with the young Hari 
+Seldon during The Flight . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+16 . 
+
+The room that Hari Seldon found himself in was larger than Hummin’s room in 
+the Imperial Sector. It was a bedroom with one comer serving as a washroom and with no 
+sign of any cooking or dining facilities. There was no window, though set in the ceiling 
+was a grilled ventilator that made a steady sighing noise. 
+
+Seldon looked about a bit ruefully. 
+
+Hummin interpreted that look with his usual assured manner and said, “It’s only 
+for tonight, Seldon. Tomorrow morning someone will come to install you at the 
+University and you will be more comfortable.” 
+
+“Pardon me, Hummin, but how do you know that?” 
+
+“I will make arrangements. I know one or two people here”, he smiled briefly 
+without humor, “and I have a favor or two I can ask repayment for. Now let’s go into 
+some details.” 
+
+He gazed steadily at Seldon and said, “Whatever you have left in your hotel room 
+is lost. Does that include anything irreplaceable?” 
+
+“Nothing really irreplaceable. I have some personal items I value for their 
+association with my past life, but if they are gone, they are gone. There are, of course, 
+some notes on my paper. Some calculations. The paper itself.” 
+
+“Which is now public knowledge until such time as it is removed from circulation 
+as dangerous, which it probably will be. Still, I’ll be able to get my hands on a copy, I’m 
+sure. In any case, you can reconstruct it, can’t you?” 
+
+“I can. That’s why I said there was nothing really irreplaceable. Also, I’ve lost 
+nearly a thousand credits, some books, clothing, my tickets back to Helicon, things like 
+that.” 
+
+“All replaceable. Now I will arrange for you to have a credit tile in my name, 
+charged to me. That will take care of ordinary expenses. “ 
+
+“That’s unusually generous of you. I can’t accept it.” 
+
+“It’s not generous at all, since I’m hoping to save the Empire in that fashion. You 
+must accept it.” 
+
+“But how much can you afford, Hummin? I’ll be using it, at best, with an uneasy 
+conscience.” 
+
+“Whatever you need for survival or reasonable comfort I can afford, Seldon. 
+Naturally, I wouldn’t want you to try to buy the University gymnasium or hand out a 
+million credits in largess.” 
+
+“You needn’t worry, but with my name on record—” 
+
+“It might as well be. It is absolutely forbidden for the Imperial government to 
+
+
+
+exercise any security control over the University or its members. There is complete 
+freedom. Anything can be discussed here, anything can be said here.”, 
+
+“What about violent crime?” 
+
+“Then the University authorities themselves handle it, with reason and care, and 
+there are virtually no crimes of violence. The students and faculty appreciate their 
+freedom and understand its terms. Too much rowdiness, the beginning of riot and 
+bloodshed, and the government may feel it has a right to break the unwritten agreement 
+and send in the troops. No one wants that, not even the government, so a delicate balance 
+is maintained. In other words, Demerzel himself can not have you plucked out of the 
+University without a great deal more cause than anyone in the University has given the 
+government in at least a century and a half. On the other hand, if you are lured off the 
+grounds by a student-agent—” 
+
+“Are there student-agents?” 
+
+“How can I say? There may be. Any ordinary individual can be threatened or 
+maneuvered or simply bought, and may remain thereafter in the service of Demerzel or of 
+someone else, for that matter. So I must emphasize this: You are safe in any reasonable 
+sense, but no one is absolutely safe. You will have to be careful. But though I give you 
+that warning, I don’t want you to cower through life. On the whole, you will be far more 
+secure here than you would have been if you had returned to Helicon or gone to any 
+world of the Galaxy outside Trantor.” 
+
+“I hope so, “ said Seldon drearily. 
+
+“I know so, “ said Hummin, “Or I would not feel it wise to leave you. “ 
+
+“Leave me?” Seldon looked up sharply. “You can’t do that. You know this world. 
+I don’t.” 
+
+“You will be with others who know this world, who know this part of it, in fact, 
+even better than I do. As for myself, I must go. I have been with you all this day and I 
+dare not abandon my own life any longer. I must not attract too much attention to myself. 
+Remember that I have my own insecurities, just as you have yours.” 
+
+Seldon blushed. “You’re right. I can’t expect you to endanger yourself 
+indefinitely on my behalf. I hope you are not already mined.” 
+
+Hummin said coolly, “Who can tell? We live in dangerous times. Just remember 
+that if anyone can make the times safe, if not for ourselves, then for those who follow 
+after us, it is you. Let that thought be your driving force, Seldon.” 
+
+17 . 
+
+Sleep eluded Seldon. He tossed and turned in the dark, thinking. He had have 
+never felt quite so alone or quite so helpless as he did after Hummin had nodded, pressed 
+his hand briefly, and left him behind. Now he was on a strange world, and in a strange 
+part of that world. He was without the only person he could consider a friend (and that of 
+less than a day’s duration) and he had no idea of where he was going or what he would be 
+doing, either tomorrow or at any time in the future. 
+
+None of that was conducive to sleep so, of course, at about the time he decided, 
+hopelessly, that he would not sleep that night or, possibly, ever again, exhaustion 
+overtook him . . . 
+
+When he woke up it was still dark, or not quite, for across the room he saw a red 
+
+
+
+light flashing brightly and rapidly, accompanied by a harsh, intermittent buzz. 
+Undoubtedly, it was that which had awakened him. 
+
+As he tried to remember where he was and to make some sort of sense out of the 
+limited messages his senses were receiving, the flashing and buzzing ceased and he 
+became aware of a peremptory rapping. 
+
+Presumably, the rapping was at the door, but he didn’t remember where the door 
+was. Presumably, also, there was a contact that would flood the room with light, but he 
+didn’t remember where that was either. 
+
+He sat up in bed and felt along the wall to his left rather desperately while calling 
+out, “One moment, please.” 
+
+He found the necessary contact and the room suddenly bloomed with a soft light. 
+
+He scrambled out of bed, blinking, still searching for the door, finding it, reaching 
+out to open it, remembering caution at the last moment, and saying in a suddenly stern, 
+no-nonsense voice, “Who’s there?” 
+
+A rather gentle woman’s voice said, “My dame is Dors Venabili and I have come 
+to see Dr. Hari Seldom” 
+
+Even as that was said, a woman was standing just in front of the door, without that 
+door ever having been opened. 
+
+For a moment, Hari Seldon stared at her in surprise, then realized that he was 
+wearing only a one-piece undergarment. He let out a strangled gasp and dashed for the 
+bed and only then realized that he was staring at a holograph. It lacked the hard edge of 
+reality and it became apparent the woman wasn’t looking at him. She was merely 
+showing herself for identification. 
+
+He paused, breathing hard, then said, raising his voice to be heard through the 
+door, “If you’ll wait, I’ll be with you. Give me . . . maybe half an hour.” 
+
+The woman, or the holograph, at any rate, said, “I’ll wait, “ and disappeared. 
+
+There was no shower, so he sponged himself, making a rare mess on the tiled 
+floor in the washroom corner. There was toothpaste but no toothbrush, so he used his 
+finger. He had no choice but to put on the clothes he had been wearing the day before. He 
+finally opened the door. 
+
+He realized, even as he did so, that she had not really identified herself. She had 
+merely given a name and Hummin had not told him whom to expect, whether it was to be 
+this Dors Somebody or anyone else. He had felt secure because the holograph was that of 
+a personable young woman, but for ah he knew there might be half a dozen hostile young 
+men with her. 
+
+He peered out cautiously, saw only the woman, then opened the door sufficiently 
+to allow her to enter. He immediately closed and locked the door behind her. 
+
+“Pardon me, “ he said, “What time is it?” 
+
+“Nine, “ she said, “The day has long since begun.” 
+
+As far as official time was concerned, Trantor held to Galactic Standard, since 
+only so could sense be made out of interstellar commerce and governmental dealings. 
+Each world, however, also had a local time system and Seldon had not yet come to the 
+point where he felt at home with casual Trantorian references to the hour. 
+
+“Midmorning?” he said. 
+
+“Of course.” 
+
+“There are no windows in this room, “ he said defensively. 
+
+
+
+Dors walked to his bed, reached out, and touched a small dark spot on the wall. 
+Red numbers appeared on the ceiling just over his pillow. They read: 0903. 
+
+She smiled without superiority. “I’m sorry, “ she said. “But I rather assumed 
+Chetter Hummin would have told you I’d be coming for you at nine. The trouble with 
+him is he’s so used to knowing, he sometimes forgets that others occasionally don’t 
+know. And I shouldn’t have used radio-holographic identification. I imagine you don’t 
+have it on Helicon and I’m afraid I must have alarmed you.” 
+
+Seldon felt himself relax. She seemed natural and friendly and the casual 
+reference to Hummin reassured him. He said, “You’re quite wrong about Helicon, Miss— 
+
+“Please call me Dors.” 
+
+“You’re still wrong about Helicon, Dors. We do have radioholography, but I’ve 
+never been able to afford the equipment. Nor could anyone in my circle, so I haven’t 
+actually had the experience. But I understood what had happened soon enough.” 
+
+He studied her. She was not very tall, average height for a woman, he judged. Her 
+hair was a reddish-gold, though not very bright, and was arranged in shore curls about her 
+head. ( He had seen a number of women in Trantor with their hair so arranged. It was 
+apparently a local fashion that would have been laughed at in Helicon.) She was not 
+amazingly beautiful, but was quire pleasant to look at, this being helped by full lips that 
+seemed to have a slight humorous curl to them. She was slim, well-built, and looked quite 
+young. (Too young, he thought uneasily, to be of use perhaps.) 
+
+“Do I pass inspection?” she asked. (She seemed to have Hummin’ s trick of 
+guessing his thoughts, Seldon thought, or perhaps he himself lacked the trick of hiding 
+them.) 
+
+He said, “I’m sorry. I seem to have been staring, but I’ve only been trying to 
+evaluate you. I’m in a strange place. I know no one and have no friends.” 
+
+“Please, Dr. Seldon, count me as a friend. Mr. Hummin has asked me to take care 
+of you.” 
+
+Seldon smiled ruefully. “You may be a little young for the job.” 
+
+“You’ll find I am not.” 
+
+“Well, I’ll try to be as little trouble as possible. Could you please repeat your 
+
+name?” 
+
+“Dors Venabili.” She spelled the last name and emphasized the stress on the 
+second syllable. “As I said, please call me Dors and if you don’t object too strenuously I 
+will call you Hari. We’re quite informal here at the University and there is an almost self- 
+conscious effort to show no signs of status, either inherited or professional.” 
+
+“Please, by all means, call me Hari.” 
+
+“Good. I shall remain informal then. For instance, the instinct for formality, if 
+there is such a thing, would cause me to ask permission to sit down. Informally, however, 
+I shall just sit.” She then sat down on the one chair in the room. 
+
+Seldon cleared his throat. “Clearly, I’m not at all in possession of my ordinary 
+faculties. I should have asked you to sit.” He sat down on the aide of his crumpled bed 
+and wished he had thought to straighten it out somewhat, but he had been caught by 
+surprise. 
+
+She said pleasantly, “This is how it’s going to work, Hari. First, we’ll go to 
+breakfast at one of the University cafes. Then I’ll get you a room in one of the domiciles, 
+
+
+
+a better room than this. You’ll have a window. Hummin has instructed me to get you a 
+credit tile in his name, but it will take me a day or two to extort one out of the University 
+bureaucracy. Until that’s done, I’ll be responsible for your expenses and you can pay me 
+back later. And we can use you. Chetter Hummin told me you’re a mathematician and for 
+some reason there’s a serious lack of good ones at the University.” 
+
+“Did Hummin tell you that I was a good mathematician?” 
+
+“As a matter of face, he did. He said you were a remarkable man—” 
+
+“Well.” Seldon looked down at his fingernails. “I would like to be considered so, 
+but Hummin knew me for less than a day and, before that, he had heard me present a 
+paper, the quality of which he has no way of judging. I think he was just being polite.” 
+
+“I don’t think so, “ said Dors. “He is a remarkable person himself and has had a 
+great deal of experience with people. I’ll go by his judgment. In any case, I imagine 
+you’ll have a chance to prove yourself. You can program computers, I suppose.” 
+
+“Of course.” 
+
+“I’m talking about teaching computers, you understand, and I’m asking if you can 
+devise programs to teach various phases of contemporary mathematics.” 
+
+“Yes, that’s part of my profession. I’m assistant professor of mathematics at the 
+University of Helicon.” 
+
+She said, “Yes, I know. Hummin told me that. It means, of course, that everyone 
+will know you are a non-Trantorian, but that will present no serious problems. We’re 
+mainly Trantorian here at the University, but there’s a substantial minority of 
+Outworlders from any number of different worlds and that’s accepted. I won’t say that 
+you’ll never hear a planetary slur but actually the Outworlders are more likely to use 
+them than the Trantorians. I’m an Outworlder myself, by the way.” 
+
+“Oh?” He hesitated and then decided it would be only polite to ask. “What world 
+are you from?” 
+
+“I’m from Cinna. Have you ever heard of it?” 
+
+He’d be caught out if he was polite enough to lie, Seldon decided, so he said, 
+
+“No.” 
+
+“I’m not surprised. It’s probably of even less account than Helicon is. Anyway, to 
+get back to the programming of mathematical teaching computers, I suppose that that can 
+be done either proficiently or poorly.” 
+
+“Absolutely.” 
+
+“And you would do it proficiendy.” 
+
+“I would like to think so.” 
+
+“There you are, then. The University will pay you for that, so lee’s go out and eat. 
+Did you sleep well, by the way?” 
+
+“Surprisingly, I did.” 
+
+“And are you hungry?” 
+
+“Yes, but—” He hesitated. 
+
+She said cheerfully, “But you’re worried about the quality of the food, is that it? 
+Well, don’t be. Being an Outworlder myself, I can understand your feelings about the 
+strong infusion of microfood into everything, but the University menus aren’t bad. In the 
+faculty dining room, at least. The students suffer a bit, but that serves to harden them.” 
+
+She rose and turned to the door, but stopped when Seldon could not keep himself 
+from saying, “Are you a member of the faculty?” 
+
+
+
+She turned and smiled at him impishly. “Don’t I look old enough? I got my 
+doctorate two years ago at Cinna and I’ve been here ever since. In two weeks, I���ll be 
+thirty.” 
+
+“Sorry, “ said Seldon, smiling in his turn, “but you can’t expect to look 
+twentyfour and not raise doubts as to your academic status.” 
+
+“Aren’t you nice?” said Dors and Seldon felt a certain pleasure wash over him. 
+After all, he thought, you can’t exchange pleasantries with an attractive woman and feel 
+entirely like a stranger. 
+
+18 . 
+
+Dors was right. Breakfast was by no means bad. There was something that was 
+unmistakably eggy and the meat was pleasantly smoked. The chocolate drink (Trantor 
+was strong on chocolate and Seldon did not mind that) was probably synthetic, but it was 
+tasty and the breakfast rolls were good. 
+
+He felt is only right to say as much. “This has been a very pleasant breakfast. 
+Food. Surroundings. Everything.” 
+
+“I’m delighted you think so, “ said Dors. 
+
+Seldon looked about. There were a bank of windows in one wall and while actual 
+sunlight did not enter (he wondered if, after a while, he would learn to be satisfied with 
+diffuse daylight and would cease to look for patches of sunlight in a room), the place was 
+light enough. In face, it was quite bright, for the local weather computer had apparently 
+decided is was time for a sharp, clear day. 
+
+The cables were arranged for four apiece and most were occupied by the full 
+number, but Dors and Seldon remained alone at theirs. Dors had called over some of the 
+men and women and had introduced them. All had been police, but none had joined them. 
+Undoubtedly, Dors intended that to be so, but Seldon did not see how she managed to 
+arrange it. 
+
+He said, “You haven’t introduced me to any mathematicians, Dors.” 
+
+“I haven’t seen any that I know. Most mathematicians start the day early and have 
+classes by eight. My own feeling is that any student so foolhardy as to take mathematics 
+wants to get that part of the course over with as soon as possible.” 
+
+“I take is you’re not a mathematician yourself.” 
+
+“Anything but, “ said Dors with a short laugh. “Anything. History is my field. 
+
+I’ve already published some studies on the rise of Trantor, I mean the primitive kingdom, 
+not this world. I suppose that will end up as my field of specialization, Royal Trantor.” 
+
+“Wonderful, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Wonderful?” Dors looked at him quizzically. “Are you interested in Royal 
+Trantor too?” 
+
+“In a way, yes. That and other things like that. I’ve never really studied history 
+and I should have.” 
+
+“Should you? If you had studied history, you’d scarcely have had time to study 
+mathematics and mathematicians are very much needed especially at this University. 
+We’re full to here with historians, “ she said, raising her hand to her eyebrows, “and 
+economists and political scientists, but we’re short on science and mathematics. Chetter 
+Hummin pointed that out to me once. He called it the decline of science and seemed to 
+
+
+
+think it was a general phenomenon.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Of course, when I say I should have studied history, I don’t mean 
+that I should have made it a life work. I meant I should have studied enough to help me in 
+my mathematics. My field of specialization is the mathematical analysis of social 
+structure.” 
+
+“Sounds horrible.” 
+
+“In a way, it is. It’s very complicated and without my knowing a great deal more 
+about how societies evolved it’s hopeless. My picture is too static, you see.” 
+
+“I can’t see because I know nothing about it. Chetter told me you were developing 
+something called psychohistory and that it was important. Have I got it right? 
+Psychohistory?” 
+
+“That’s right. I should have called it ‘psychsociology, ‘ but it seemed to me that 
+was too ugly a word. Or perhaps I knew instinctively that a knowledge of history was 
+necessary and then didn’t pay sufficient attention to my thoughts.” 
+
+“Psychohistory does sound better, but I don’t know what it is.” 
+
+“I scarcely do myself.” He brooded a few minutes, looking at the woman on the 
+other side of the table and feeling that she might make this exile of his seem a little less 
+like an exile. He thought of the other woman he had known a few years ago, but blocked 
+it off with a determined effort. If he ever found another companion, it would have to be 
+one who understood scholarship and what it demanded of a person. 
+
+To get his mind onto a new track, he said, “Chetter Hummin told me that the 
+University is in no way troubled by the government. “ 
+
+“He’s right.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “That seems rather unbelievably forbearing of the 
+Imperial government. The educational institutions on Helicon are by no means so 
+independent of governmental pressures.” 
+
+“Nor on Cinna. Nor on any Outworld, except perhaps for one or two of the 
+largest. Trantor is another matter.” 
+
+“Yes, but why?” 
+
+“Because it’s the center of the Empire. The universities here have enormous 
+prestige. Professionals are turned out by any university anywhere, but the administrators 
+of the Empire, the high officials, the countless millions of people who represent the 
+tentacles of Empire reaching into every corner of the Galaxy, are educated right here on 
+Trantor.” 
+
+“I’ve never seen the statistics—” began Seldon. 
+
+“Take my word for it. It is important that the officials of the Empire have some 
+common ground, some special feeling for the Empire. And they can’t all be native 
+Trantorians or else the Outworlds would grow restless. For that reason, Trantor must 
+attract millions of Outworlders for education here. It doesn’t matter where they come 
+from or what their home accent or culture may be, as long as they pick up the Trantorian 
+patina and identify themselves with a Trantorian educational background. That’s what 
+holds the Empire together. The Outworlds are also less restive when a noticeable portion 
+of the administrators who represent the Imperial government are their own people by 
+birth and upbringing.” 
+
+Seldon felt embarrassed again. This was something he had never given any 
+thought to. He wondered if anyone could be a truly great mathematician if mathematics 
+
+
+
+was all he knew. He said, “Is this common knowledge?” 
+
+“I suppose it isn’t, “ said Dors after some thought. “There’s so much knowledge 
+to be had that specialists cling to their specialties as a shield against having to know 
+anything about anything else. They avoid being drowned.” 
+
+“Yet you know it.” 
+
+“But that’s my specialty. I’m a historian who deals with the rise of Royal Trantor 
+and this administrative technique was one of the ways in which Trantor spread its 
+influence and managed the transition from Royal Trantor to Imperial Trantor.” 
+
+Seldon said, almost as though muttering to himself, “How harmful 
+overspecialization is. It cuts knowledge at a million points and leaves it bleeding.” 
+
+Dors shrugged. “What can one do? But you see, if Trantor is going to attract 
+Outworlders to Trantorian universities, it has to give them something in return for 
+uprooting themselves and going to a strange world with an incredibly artificial structure 
+and unusual ways. I’ve been here two years and I’m still not used to it. I may never get 
+used to it. But then, of course, I don’t intend to be an administrator, so I’m not forcing 
+myself to be a Trantorian. 
+
+“And what Trantor offers in exchange is not only the promise of a position with 
+high status, considerable power, and money, of course, but also freedom. While students 
+are having their education, they are free to denounce the government, demonstrate against 
+it peacefully, work out their own theories and points of view. They enjoy that and many 
+come here so that they can experience the sensation of liberty.” 
+
+“I imagine, “ said Seldon, “that it helps relieve pressure as well. They work off all 
+their resentments, enjoy all the smug self-satisfaction a young revolutionary would have, 
+and by the time they take their place in the Imperial hierarchy, they are ready to settle 
+down into conformity and obedience.” 
+
+Dors nodded. “You may be right. In any case, the government, for all these 
+reasons, carefully preserves the freedom of the universities. It’s not a matter of their 
+being forbearing at all, only clever.” 
+
+“And if you’re not going to be an administrator, Dors, what are you going to be?” 
+
+“A historian. I’ll teach, put book-films of my own into the programming.” 
+
+“Not much status, perhaps.” 
+
+“Not much money, Hari, which is more important. As for status, that’s the sort of 
+push and pull I’d just as soon avoid. I’ve seen many people with status, but I’m still 
+looking for a happy one. Status won’t sit still under you; you have to continually fight to 
+keep from sinking. Even Emperors manage to come to bad ends most of the time. 
+Someday I may just go back to Cinna and be a professor.” 
+
+“And a Trantorian education will give you status.” 
+
+Don laughed. “I suppose so, but on Cinna who would care? It’s a dull world, full 
+of farms and with lots of cattle, both four-legged and two-legged.” 
+
+“Won’t you find it dull after Trantor?” 
+
+“Yes, that’s what I’m counting on. And if it gets coo dull, I can always wangle a 
+grant to go here or there to do a little historical research. That’s the advantage of my 
+field.” 
+
+“A mathematician, on the other hand, “ said Seldon with a trace of bitterness at 
+something that had never before bothered him, “is expected to sit at his computer and 
+think. And speaking of computers... He hesitated. Breakfast was done and it seemed to 
+
+
+
+him more than likely she had some duties of her own to attend to. 
+
+But she did not seem to be in any great hurry to leave. “Yes? Speaking of 
+computers?” 
+
+“Would I be able to get permission to use the history library?” 
+
+Now is was she who hesitated. “I chink that can be arranged. If you work on 
+mathematics programming, you’ll probably be viewed as a quasimember of the faculty 
+and I could ask for you to be given permission. Only—” 
+
+“Only?” 
+
+“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re a mathematician and you say you 
+know nothing about history. Would you know how to make use of a history library?” 
+
+Seldon smiled. “I suppose you use computers very much like those in a 
+mathematics library.” 
+
+“We do, but the programming for each specialty has quirks of its own. You don’t 
+know the standard reference book-films, the quick methods of winnowing and skipping. 
+You may be able to find a hyperbolic interval in the dark ...” 
+
+“You mean hyperbolic integral, “ interrupted Seldon softly. 
+
+Dors ignored him. “But you probably won’t know how to get the terms of the 
+Treaty of Poldark in less than a day and a half.” 
+
+“I suppose I could learn.” 
+
+“If . . . if . . .” She looked a little troubled. “If you want to, I can make a 
+suggestion. I give a week’s course, one hour each day, no credit on library use. It’s for 
+undergraduates. Would you feel it beneath your dignity to sit in on such a course with 
+undergraduates, I mean? It starts in three weeks.” 
+
+“You could give me private lessons.” Seldom felt a little surprised at the 
+suggestive tone that had entered his voice. 
+
+She did not miss it. “I dare say I could, but I think you’d be better off with more 
+formal instruction. We’ll be using the library, you understand, and at the end of the week 
+you will be asked to locate information on particular items of historical interest. You will 
+be competing with the other students all through and that will help you learn. Private 
+tutoring will be far less efficient, I assure you. However, I understand the difficulty of 
+competing with undergraduates. If you don’t do as well as they, you may feel humiliated. 
+You must remember, though, that they have already studied elementary history and you, 
+perhaps, may not have.” 
+
+“I haven’t. No 'may’ about it. But I won’t be afraid to compete and I won’t mind 
+any humiliation that may come along-if I manage to learn the cricks of the historical 
+reference trade.” 
+
+It was clear to Seldom that he was beginning to like this young woman and that he 
+was gladly seizing on the chance to be educated by her. He was also aware of the face 
+that he had reached a turning point in his mind. 
+
+He had promised Hummin to attempt to work out a practical psychohistory, but 
+that had been a promise of the mind and not the emotions. Now he was determined to 
+seize psychohistory by the throat if he had to-in order to make it practical. That, perhaps, 
+was the influence of Dors Venabili. 
+
+Or had Hummin counted on that? Hummin, Seldom decided, might well be a 
+most formidable person. 
+
+
+
+19 . 
+
+
+Cleon I had finished dinner, which, unfortunately, had been a formal state affair. 
+
+It meant he had to spend time talking to various officials, not one of whom he knew or 
+recognized, in set phrases designed to give each one his stroke and so activate his loyalty 
+to the crown. It also meant that his food reached him but lukewarm and had cooled still 
+further before he could eat it. 
+
+There had to be some way of avoiding that. Bat first, perhaps, on his own or with 
+one or two close intimates with whom he could relax and then attend a formal dinner at 
+which he could merely be served an imported pear. He loved pears. But would that 
+offend the guests who would take the Emperor’s refusal to sac with them as a studied 
+insult. 
+
+His wife, of course, was useless in this respect, for her presence would but further 
+exacerbate his unhappiness. He had married her because she was a member of a powerful 
+dissident family who could be expected to mute their dissidence as a result of the union, 
+though Cleon devoutly hoped that she, at least, would not do so. He was perfectly content 
+to have her live her own life in her own quarters except for the necessary efforts to 
+initiate an heir, for, to cell the truth, he didn’t like her. And now that an heir had come, he 
+could ignore her completely. 
+
+He chewed at one of a handful of nuts he had pocketed from the table on leaving 
+and said, “Demerzel!” 
+
+“Sire?” 
+
+Demerzel always appeared at once when Cleon called. Whether he hovered 
+constantly in earshot at the door or he drew close because the instinct of subservience 
+somehow alerted him to a possible call in a few minutes, he did appear and that, Cleon 
+thought idly, was the important thing. Of course, there were those times when Demerzel 
+had to be away on Imperial business. Cleon always hated those absences. They made him 
+uneasy. 
+
+“What happened to that mathematician? I forget his name.” 
+
+Demerzel, who surely knew the man the Emperor had in mind, but who perhaps 
+wanted to study how much the Emperor remembered, said, “What mathematician is it 
+that you have in mind, Sire?” 
+
+Cleon waved an impatient hand. “The fortune-teller. The one who came to see 
+
+me.” 
+
+“The one we sent for?” 
+
+“Well, sent for, then. He did come to see me. You were going to take care of the 
+matter, as I recall. Have you?” 
+
+Demerzel cleared his throat. “Sire, I have cried to.” 
+
+“Ah! That means you have failed, doesn’t it?” In a way, Cleon felt pleased. 
+Demerzel was the only one of his Ministers who made no bones of failure. The others 
+never admitted failure, and since failure was nevertheless common, it became difficult to 
+correct. Perhaps Demerzel could afford to be more honest because he failed so rarely. If it 
+weren’t for Demerzel, Cleon thought sadly, he might never know what honesty sounded 
+like. Perhaps no Emperor ever knew and perhaps that was one of the reasons that the 
+Empire—” 
+
+He pulled his thoughts away and, suddenly nettled at the other’s silence and 
+
+
+
+wanting an admission, since he had just admired Demerzel’s honesty in his mind, said 
+sharply, “Well, you have failed, haven’t you?” 
+
+Demerzel did not flinch. “Sire, I have failed in part. I felt that to have him here on 
+Trantor where things are difficult might present us with problems. It was easy to consider 
+that he might be more conveniently placed on his home planet. He was planning to return 
+to that home planet the next day, but there was always the chance of complications, of his 
+deciding to remain on Trantor, so I arranged to have two young alley men place him on 
+his plane that very day.” 
+
+“Do you know alley men, Demerzel?” Cleon was amused. 
+
+“It is important, Sire, to be able to reach many kinds of people, for each type has 
+its own variety of use, alley men not the least. As it happens, they did not succeed.” 
+
+“And why was that?” 
+
+“Oddly enough, Seldon was able to fight them off.” 
+
+“The mathematician could fight?” 
+
+“Apparently, mathematics and the martial arts are not necessarily mutually 
+exclusive. I found out, not soon enough, that his world, Helicon, is noted for its martial 
+arts, not mathematics. The fact that I did not learn this earlier was indeed a failure, Sire, 
+and I can only crave your pardon.” 
+
+“But then, I suppose the mathematician left for his home planet the next day as he 
+had planned.” 
+
+“Unfortunately, the episode backfired. Taken aback by the event, he decided not 
+to return to Helicon, but remained on Trantor. He may have been advised to this effect by 
+a passerby who happened to be present on the occasion of the fight. That was another 
+unlooked-for complication.” 
+
+The Emperor Cleon frowned. “Then our mathematician— what it his name?” 
+
+“Seldon, Sire. Hari Seldon.” 
+
+“Then this Seldon is out of reach.” 
+
+“In a sense, Sire. We have traced his movements and he is now at Streeling 
+University. While there, he is untouchable.” 
+
+The Emperor scowled and reddened slightly. “I am annoyed at that word 
+‘untouchable.’ There should be nowhere in the Empire my hand cannot reach. Yet here, 
+on my own world, you tell me someone can be untouchable. Insufferable!” 
+
+“Your hand can reach to the University, Sire. You can send in your army and 
+pluck out this Seldon at any moment you desire. To do so, however, is . . . undesirable.” 
+
+“Why don’t you say ‘impractical, ‘ Demerzel. You sound like the mathematician 
+speaking of his fortune-telling. It is possible, but impractical. I am an Emperor who finds 
+everything possible, but very little practical. Remember, Demerzel, if reaching Seldon is 
+not practical, reaching you is entirely so.” 
+
+Eto Demerzel let this last comment pass. The “man behind the throne” knew his 
+importance to the Emperor, he had heard such threats before. He waited in silence while 
+the Emperor glowered. Drumming his fingers against the arm of his chair, Cleon asked, 
+..Well then, what good is this mathematician to us if he is at Streeling University?” 
+
+“It may perhaps be possible, Sire, to snatch use out of adversity. At the 
+University, he may decide to work on his psychohistory.” 
+
+“Even though he insists it’s impractical?” 
+
+“He may be wrong and he may find out that he is wrong. And if he finds out that 
+
+
+
+he is wrong, we would find some way of getting him out of the University. It is even 
+possible he would join us voluntarily under those circumstances.” 
+
+The Emperor remained lost in thought for a while, then said, “And what if 
+someone else plucks him out before we do?” 
+
+“Who would want to do that, Sire?” asked Demerzel softly. 
+
+“The Mayor of Wye, for one, “ said Cleon, suddenly shouting. “He dreams still of 
+taking over the Empire.” 
+
+“Old age has drawn his fangs, Sire.” 
+
+“Don’t you believe it, Demerzel.” 
+
+“And we have no reason for supposing he has any interest in Seldon or even 
+knows of him, Sire.” 
+
+“Come on, Demerzel. If we heard of the paper, so could Wye. If we see the 
+possible importance of Seldon, so could Wye.” 
+
+“If that should happen, “ said Demerzel, “or even if there should be a reasonable 
+chance of its happening, then we would be justified in taking strong measures.” 
+
+“How strong?” 
+
+Demerzel said cautiously, “It might be argued that rather than have Seldon in 
+Wye’s hands, we might prefer to have him in no one’s hands. To have him cease to exist, 
+Sire.” 
+
+“To have him killed, you mean, “ said Cleon. 
+
+“If you wish to put it that way, Sire, “ said Demerzel. 
+
+20 . 
+
+Hari Seldon sat back in his chair in the alcove that had been assigned to him 
+through Dors Venabili’s intervention. He was dissatisfied. 
+
+As a matter of fact, although that was the expression he used in his mind, he knew 
+that it was a gross underestimation of his feelings. He was not simply dissatisfied, he was 
+furious, all the more so because he wasn’t sure what it was he was furious about. Was it 
+about the histories? The writers and compilers of histories? The worlds and people that 
+made the histories? 
+
+Whatever the target of his fury, it didn’t really matter. What counted was that his 
+notes were useless, his new knowledge was useless, everything was useless. 
+
+He had been at the University now for almost six weeks. He had managed to find 
+a computer outlet at the very start and with it had begun work, without instruction, but 
+using the instincts he had developed over a number of years of mathematical labors. It 
+had been slow and halting, but there was a certain pleasure in gradually determining the 
+routes by which he could get his questions answered. 
+
+Then came the week of instruction with Dors, which had taught him several dozen 
+shortcuts and had brought with it two sets of embarrassments. The first set included the 
+sidelong glances he received from the undergraduates, who seemed contemptuously 
+aware of his greater age and who were disposed to frown a bit at Dors’ s constant use of 
+the honorific “Doctor” in addressing him. 
+
+“I don’t want them to think, “ she said, “that you’re some backward perpetual 
+student taking remedial history.” 
+
+“But surely you’ve established the point. Surely, a mere ‘Seldon’ is sufficient 
+
+
+
+now.” 
+
+“No, “ Dors said and smiled suddenly. “Besides, I like to call you ‘Dr. Seldom’ I 
+like the way you look uncomfortable each time.” 
+
+“You have a peculiar sense of sadistic humor.” 
+
+“Would you deprive me?” 
+
+For some reason, that made him laugh. Surely, the natural reaction would have 
+been to deny sadism. Somehow he found it pleasant that she accepted the ball of 
+conversation and fired it back. The thought led to a natural question. “Do you play tennis 
+here at the University?” 
+
+“We have courts, but I don’t play.” 
+
+“Good. I’ll teach you. And when I do, I’ll call you Professor Venabili. “ 
+
+“That’s what you call me in class anyway.” 
+
+“You’ll be surprised how ridiculous it will sound on the tennis court. “ 
+
+“I may get to like it.” 
+
+“In that case, I will try to find what else you might get to like.” 
+
+“I see you have a peculiar sense of salacious humor.” 
+
+She had put that ball in that spot deliberately and he said, “Would you deprive 
+
+me?” 
+
+She smiled and later did surprisingly well on the tennis court. “Are you sure you 
+never played tennis?” he said, puffing, after one session. 
+
+“Positive, “ she said. 
+
+The other set of embarrassments was more private. He learned the necessary 
+techniques of historical research and then burned-in private at his earlier attempts to 
+make use of the computer’s memory. It was simply an entirely different mindset from 
+that used in mathematics. It was equally logical, he supposed, since it could be used, 
+consistently and without error, to move in whatever direction he wanted to, but it was a 
+substantially different brand of logic from that to which he was accustomed. 
+
+But with or without instructions, whether he stumbled or moved in swiftly, he 
+simply didn’t get any results. 
+
+His annoyance made itself felt on the tennis court. Dors quickly reached the stage 
+where it was no longer necessary to lob easy balls at her to give her time to judge 
+direction and distance. That made it easy to forget that she was just a beginner and he 
+expressed his anger in his swing, firing the ball back at her as though it were a laser beam 
+made solid. 
+
+She came trotting up to the net and said, “I can understand your wanting to kill 
+me, since it must annoy you to watch me miss the shots so often. How is it, though, that 
+you managed to miss my head by about three centimeters that time? I mean, you didn’t 
+even nick me. Can’t you do better than that?” 
+
+Seldon, horrified, tried to explain, but only managed to sound incoherent. 
+
+She said, “Look. I’m not going to face any other returns of yours today, so why 
+don’t we shower and then get together for some tea and whatever and you can tell me just 
+what you were trying to kill. If it wasn’t my poor head and if you don’t get the real victim 
+off your chest, you ’ll be entirely too dangerous on the other side of the net for me to want 
+to serve as a target.” 
+
+Over tea he said, “Dors, I’ve scanned history after history; just scanned, browsed. 
+
+I haven’t had time for deep study yet. Even so, it’s become obvious. All the book-films 
+
+
+
+concentrate on the same few events.” 
+
+“Crucial ones. History-making ones.” 
+
+“That’s just an excuse. They’re copying each other. There are twenty five million 
+worlds out there and there’s significant mention of perhaps twentyfive.” 
+
+Dors said, “You’re reading general Galactic histories only. Look up the special 
+histories of some of the minor worlds. On every world, however small, the children are 
+taught local histories before they ever find out there’s a great big Galaxy outside. Don’t 
+you yourself know more about Helicon, right now, than you know about the rise of 
+Trantor or of the Great Interstellar War?” 
+
+“That sort of knowledge is limited too, “ said Seldon gloomily. “I know 
+Heliconian geography and the stories of its settlement and of the malfeasance and 
+misfeasance of the planet Jennisek, that’s our traditional enemy, though our teachers 
+carefully told us that we ought to say ‘traditional rival.’ But I never learned anything 
+about the contributions of Helicon to general Galactic history.” 
+
+“Maybe there weren’t any.” 
+
+“Don’t be silly. Of course there were. There may not have been great, huge space 
+battles involving Helicon or crucial rebellions or peace treaties. There may not have been 
+some Imperial competitor making his base on Helicon. But there must have been subtle 
+influences. Surely, nothing can happen anywhere without affecting everywhere else. Yet 
+there’s nothing I can find’ to help me. wee here, Dors. In mathematics, all can be found 
+in the computer; everything we know or have found out in twenty thousand years. In 
+history, that’s not so. Historians pick and choose and every one of them picks and 
+chooses the same thing.” 
+
+“But, Hari, “ said Dors, “mathematics is an orderly thing of human invention. One 
+thing follows from another. There are definitions and axioms, all of which are known. It 
+is ... it is ... all one piece. History is different. It is the unconscious working out of the 
+deeds and thoughts of quadrillions of human beings. Historians must pick and choose.” 
+
+“Exactly, “ said Seldon, “but I must know all of history if I am to work out the 
+laws of psychohistory.” 
+
+“In that case, you won’t ever formulate the laws of psychohistory.” 
+
+That was yesterday. Now Seldon sat in his chair in his alcove, having spent 
+another day of utter failure, and he could hear Dors’ s voice saying, “In that case, you 
+won’t ever formulate the laws of psychohistory.” 
+
+It was what he had thought to begin with and if it hadn’t been for Hummin’s 
+conviction to the contrary and his odd ability to fire Seldon with his own blaze of 
+conviction, Seldon would have continued to think so. 
+
+And yet neither could he quite let go. Might there not be some way out? 
+
+He couldn’t think of any. 
+
+Upperside 
+
+
+TRANTOR- ... It is almost never pictured as a world seen from space. It has 
+long since captured the general mind of humanity as a world of the interior and the image 
+is that of the human hive that existed under the domes. Yet there was an exterior as well 
+and there are holographs that still remain that were taken from apace and show varying 
+degrees of devil (see Figures 14 and 15 ). Note that the surface of the domes, the interface 
+
+
+
+of the vast city and the overlying atmosphere, a surface referred to in its time as 
+“Upperside, “ is . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+21 . 
+
+Yet the following day found Hari Seldon back in the library. For one thing, there 
+was his promise to Hummin. He had promised to try and he couldn’t very well make it a 
+halfhearted process. For another, he owed something to himself too. He resented having 
+to admit failure. Not yet, at least. Not while he could plausibly tell himself he was 
+following up leads. 
+
+So he stared at the list of reference book-films he had not yet checked through and 
+tried to decide which of the unappetizing number had the slightest chance of being useful 
+to him. He had about decided that the answer was “none of the above” and saw no way 
+out but to look at samples of each when he was startled by a gentle tap against the alcove 
+wall. 
+
+Seldon looked up and found the embarrassed face of Usung Rands peering at him 
+around the edge of the alcove opening. Seldon knew Randa, had been introduced to him 
+by Dors, and had dined with him (and with others) on several occasions. 
+
+Randa, an instructor in psychology, was a little man, short and plump, with a 
+round cheerful face and an almost perpetual smile. He had a sallow complexion and the 
+narrowed eyes so characteristic of people on millions of worlds. Seldon knew that 
+appearance well, for there were many of the great mathematicians who had borne it, and 
+he had frequently seen their holograms. Yet on Helicon he had never seen one of these 
+Easterners. (By tradition they were called that, though no one knew why; and the 
+Easterners themselves were said to resent the term to some degree, but again no one knew 
+why.) 
+
+“There’s millions of us here on Trantor, “ Randa had said, smiling with no trace 
+of self-consciousness, when Seldon, on first meeting him, had not been able to repress all 
+trace of starded surprise. “You’ll also find lot of Southerners, dark skins, tightly curled 
+hair. Did you ever see one?” 
+
+“Not on Helicon, “ muttered Seldon. 
+
+“All Westerners on Helicon, eh? How dull! But it doesn’t matter. Takes all 
+kinds.” (He left Seldon wondering at the fact that there were Easterners, Southerners, and 
+Westerners, but no Northerners. He had tried finding an answer to why that might be in 
+his reference searches and had not succeeded.) 
+
+And now Randa ’s good-natured face was looking at him with an almost ludicrous 
+look of concern. He said, “Are you all right, Seldon?” 
+
+Seldon stared. “Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I be?” 
+
+“I’m just going by sounds, my friend. You were screaming.” 
+
+“Screaming?” Seldon looked at him with offended disbelief. 
+
+“Not loud. Like this.” Ranch gritted his teeth and emitted a strangled high-pitched 
+sound from the back of his throat. “If I’m wrong, I apologize for this unwarranted 
+intrusion on you. Please forgive me.” 
+
+Seldon hung his head. “You’re forgiven, Lisung. I do make that sound sometimes, 
+I’m told. I assure you it’s unconscious. I’m never aware of it.” 
+
+
+
+“Are you aware why you make it?” 
+
+“Yes. Frustration. Frustration. “ 
+
+Randa beckoned Seldon closer and lowered his voice further. “We’re disturbing 
+people. Let’s come out to the lounge before we’re thrown out.” 
+
+In the lounge, over a pair of mild drinks, Randa said, “May I ask you, as a matter 
+of professional interest, why you are feeling frustration?” 
+
+Seldon shrugged. “Why does one usually feel frustration? I’m tackling something 
+in which I am making no progress.” 
+
+“But you’re a mathematician, Hari. Why should anything in the history library 
+frustrate you?” 
+
+“What were you doing here?” 
+
+“Passing through as part of a shortcut to where I was going when I heard you . . . 
+moaning. Now you see”, and he smiled, “it’s no longer a shortcut, but a serious delay-one 
+that I welcome, however.” 
+
+“I wish I were just passing through the history library, but I’m trying to solve a 
+mathematical problem that requires some knowledge of history and I’m afraid I’m not 
+handling it well.” 
+
+Randa stared at Seldon with an unusually solemn expression on his face, then he 
+said, “Pardon me, but I must run the risk of offending you now. I’ve been computering 
+you.” 
+
+“Computering me.!” Seldon’s eyes widened. He felt distinctly angry. 
+
+“I have offended you. But, you know, I had an uncle who was a mathematician. 
+You might even have heard of him: Kiangtow Randa.” 
+
+Seldon drew in his breath. “Are you a relative of that Randa?” 
+
+“Yes. He is my father’s older brother and he was quite displeased with me for not 
+following in his footsteps, he has no children of his own. I thought somehow that it might 
+please him that I had met a mathematician and I wanted to boast of you, if I could, so I 
+checked what information the mathematics library might have.” 
+
+“I see. And that’s what you were really doing there. Well, I’m sorry. I don’t 
+suppose you could do much boasting.” 
+
+“You suppose wrong. I was impressed. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the 
+subject matter of your papers, but somehow the information seemed to be very favorable. 
+And when I checked the news files, I found you were at the Decennial Convention earlier 
+this year. So . . . what’s ‘psychohistory, ‘ anyway? Obviously, the first two syllables stir 
+my curiosity.” 
+
+“I see you got that word out of it.” 
+
+“Unless I’m totally misled, it seemed to me that you can work out the future 
+course of history.” 
+
+Seldon nodded wearily, “That, more or less, is what psychohistory is or, rather, 
+what it is intended to be.” 
+
+“But is it a serious study?” Randa was smiling. “You don’t just throw sticks?” 
+
+“throw sticks?” 
+
+“That’s just a reference to a game played by children on my home planet of 
+Hopara. The game is supposed to tell the future and if you’re a smart kid, you can make a 
+good thing out of it. Tell a mother that her child will grow up beautiful and marry a rich 
+man and it’s good for a piece of cake or a half-credit piece on the spot. She isn’t going to 
+
+
+
+wait and see if it comes true; you are rewarded just for saying it.” 
+
+“I see. No, I don’t throw sticks. Psychohistory is just an abstract study. Strictly 
+abstract. It has no practical application at all, except—” 
+
+“Now we’re getting to it. Exceptions are what are interesting.” 
+
+“Except that I would like to work out such an application. Perhaps if I knew more 
+about history—” 
+
+“Ah, that is why you are reading history?” 
+
+“Yes, but it does me no good, “ said Seldon sadly. “There is too much history and 
+there is too little of it that is told.” 
+
+“And that’s what’s frustrating you?” 
+
+Seldon nodded. 
+
+Randa said, “But, Hari, you’ve only been here a matter of weeks.” 
+
+“True, but already I can see — ” 
+
+“You can’t see anything in a few weeks. You may have to spend your whole 
+lifetime making one little advance. It may take many generations of work by many 
+mathematicians to make a real inroad on the problem.” 
+
+“I know that, Lisung, but that doesn’t make me feel better. I want to make some 
+visible progress myself.” 
+
+“Well, driving yourself to distraction won’t help either. If it will make you feel 
+better, I can give you an example of a subject much less complex than human history that 
+people have been working for I don’t know how long without making much progress. I 
+know because a group is working on it right here at the University and one of my good 
+friends is involved. Talk about frustration! You don’t know what frustration is!” 
+
+“What’s the subject?” Seldon felt a small curiosity stirring within him. 
+
+“Meteorology.” 
+
+“Meteorology!” Seldon felt revolted at the anticlimax. 
+
+“Don’t make faces. Look. Every inhabited world has an atmosphere. Every world 
+has its own atmospheric composition, its own temperature range, its own rotation and 
+revolution rate, its own axial tipping, it’s own land-water distribution. We’ve got twenty 
+five million different problems and no one has succeeded in finding a generalization.” 
+
+“.that’s because atmospheric behavior easily enters a chaotic phase. Everyone 
+knows that.” 
+
+“So my friend Jenarr Leggen says. You’ve met him.” 
+
+Seldon considered. “Tall fellow? Long nose? Doesn’t speak much?” 
+
+“That’s the one. And Trantor itself is a bigger puzzle than almost any world. 
+According to the records, it had a fairly normal weather pattern when it was first settled. 
+Then, as the population grew and urbanization spread, more energy was used and more 
+heat was discharged into the atmosphere. The ice cover contracted, the cloud layer 
+thickened, and the weather got lousier. That encouraged the movement underground and 
+set off a vicious cycle. The worse the weather got, the more eagerly the land was dug into 
+and the domes built and the weather got still worse. Now the planet has become a world 
+of almost incessant cloudiness and frequent rains, or snows when it’s cold enough. The 
+only thing is that no one can work it out properly. No one has worked out an analysis that 
+can explain why the weather has deteriorated quire as it has or how one can reasonably 
+predict the details of its day-today changes.” 
+
+Seldon shrugged. “Is that sort of thing important?” 
+
+
+
+“To a meteorologist it is. Why can’t they be as frustrated over their problems as 
+you are over yours? Don’t be a project chauvinist.’. 
+
+Seldon remembered the cloudiness and the dank chill on the way to the Emperor’s 
+
+Palace. 
+
+He said, “So what’s being done about it?” 
+
+“Well, there’s a big project on the matter here at the University end Jenarr Leggen 
+is part of it. They feel that if they can understand the weather change on Trantor, they 
+will learn a great deal about the basic laws of general meteorology. Leggen wants that as 
+much as you want your laws of psychohistory. So he has set up an incredible array of 
+instruments of all kinds Upperside . . . you know, above the domes. It hasn’t helped them 
+so far. And if there’s so much work being done for many generations on the atmosphere, 
+without results, how can you complain that you haven’t gotten anything out of human 
+history in a few weeks?” 
+
+Randa was right, Seldon thought, and he himself was being unreasonable and 
+wrong. And yet . . . and yet . . . Hummin would say that this failure in the scientific attack 
+on problems was another sign of the degeneration of the times. Perhaps he was right, 
+also, except that he was speaking of a general degeneration and average effect. Seldon 
+felt no degeneration of ability and mentality in himself. 
+
+He said with some interest then, “You mean that people climb up out of the 
+domes and into the open air above?” 
+
+“Yes. Upperside. It’s a funny thing, though. Most native Trantorians won’t do it. 
+They don’t like to go Upperside. The idea gives them vertigo or something. Most of those 
+working on the meteorology project are Outworlders.” 
+
+Seldon looked out of the window and the lawns and small garden of the 
+University campus, brilliantly lit without shadows or oppressive heat, and said 
+thoughtfully, “I don’t know that I can blame Trantorians for liking the comfort of being 
+within, but I should think curiosity would drive come Upperside. It would drive me.” 
+
+“Do you mean that you would like to see meteorology in action?” 
+
+“I think I would. How does one get Upperside?” 
+
+“Nothing to it. An elevator rakes you up, a door opens, and there you are. I’ve 
+been up there. It’s . . . novel.” 
+
+“It would get my mind off psychohistory for a while.” Seldon sighed. “I’d 
+welcome that.” 
+
+“On the other hand, “ said Randy, “my uncle used to say, ‘All knowledge is one, ‘ 
+and he may be right. You may learn something from meteorology that will help you with 
+your psychohistory. Isn’t that possible?.” 
+
+Seldon smiled weakly. “A great many things are possible.” And to himself he 
+added: But not practical. 
+
+22 . 
+
+Dors seemed amused. “Meteorology?” 
+
+Seldon said, “Yes. There’s work scheduled for tomorrow and I’ll go up with 
+
+them.” 
+
+“Are you tired of history?” 
+
+Seldon nodded his head somberly. “Yes, I am. I’ll welcome the change. Besides, 
+
+
+
+Randy says it’s another problem that’s too massive for mathematics to handle and it will 
+do me good to see that my situation isn’t unique.” 
+
+“I hope you’re not agoraphobic.” 
+
+Seldon smiled. “No, I’m not, but I see why you ask. Randy says that Trantorians 
+are frequently agoraphobic and won’t go Upperside. I imagine they feel uncomfortable 
+without a protective enclosure.” 
+
+Dors nodded. “You can see where that would be natural, but there are also many 
+Trantorians who are to be found among the planets of the Galaxy-tourists, administrators, 
+soldiers. And agoraphobia isn’t particularly rare in the Outworlds either.” 
+
+“That may be, Dors, but I’m not agoraphobic. I am curious and I welcome the 
+change, so I’ll be joining them tomorrow.” 
+
+Does hesitated. “I should go up with you, but I have a heavy schedule tomorrow, 
+gill, if you’re not agoraphobic, you’ll have no trouble and you’ll probably enjoy yourself. 
+Oh, and stay close to the meteorologists. I’ve heard of people getting lost up there.” 
+
+“I’ll be careful. It’s a long time since I’ve gotten truly lost anywhere.” 
+
+23 , 
+
+Jenarr Leggen had a dark look about him. It was not so much his complexion, 
+which was fair enough. It was not even his eyebrows, which were thick and dark enough. 
+It was, rather, that those eyebrows were hunched over deep-set eyes and a long and rather 
+prominent nose. He had, as a result, a most unmerry look. His eyes did not smile and 
+when he spoke, which wasn’t often, he had a deep, strong voice, surprisingly resonant for 
+his rather thin body. 
+
+He said, “You’ll need warmer clothing than that, Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Oh?” and looked about. 
+
+There were two men and two women who were making ready to go up with 
+Leggen and Seldon And, as in Leggen’s own case, their rather satiny Trantorian clothing 
+was covered by thick sweaters that, not surprisingly, were brighdy colored in bold 
+designs. No two were even faintly alike, of course. 
+
+Seldon looked down at himself and said, “Sorry, I didn’t know but I don’t have 
+any suitable outer garment.” 
+
+“I can give you one. I think there’s a spare here somewhere. Yes, here it is. A 
+little threadbare, but it’s better than nothing.” 
+
+“Wearing sweaters like these tan make you unpleasantly warm, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Here they would, “ said Leggen. “Other conditions exist Upperside. Cold and 
+windy. Too bad I don’t have spare leggings and boots for you too. You’ll want them 
+later.” 
+
+They were taking with them a tart of instruments, which they were testing one by 
+one with what Seldon thought was unnecessary slowness. 
+
+“Your home planet cold?” asked Leggen. 
+
+Seldon said, “Parts of it, of course. The part of Helicon I come from is mild and 
+often rainy.” 
+
+“Too bad. You won’t like the weather Upperside.” 
+
+“I think I can manage to endure it for the time we’ll be up there.” 
+
+When they were ready, the group filed into an elevator that was marked: 
+
+
+
+OFFICIAL USE ONLY. 
+
+“That’s because it goes Upperside, “ said one of the young women, “and people 
+aren’t supposed to be up there without good reason.” 
+
+Seldon had not met the young woman before, but he had heard her addressed as 
+Clowzia. He didn’t know if that was a first name, a last name, or a nickname. 
+
+The elevator seemed no different from others that Seldon had been on, either here 
+on Trantor or at home in Helicon (barring, of course, the gravitic lift he and Hummin had 
+used), but there was something about knowing that it was going to take him out of the 
+confines of the planet and into emptiness above that made it feel like a spaceship. 
+
+Seldon smiled internally. A foolish fantasy. 
+
+The elevator quivered slightly, which remind Seldon of Hummin’ s forebodings of 
+Galactic decay. Leggen, along with the other men and one of the women, seemed frozen 
+and waiting, as though they had suspended thought as well as activity until they could get 
+out, but Clowzia kept glancing at him as though she found him terribly impressive. 
+
+Seldon leaned close and whispered to her (he hesitated to disturb the others), “Are 
+we going up very high?” 
+
+“High?” she repeated. She spoke in a normal voice, apparently not feeling that the 
+others required silence. She seemed very young and it occurred to Seldon that she was 
+probably an undergraduate. An apprentice, perhaps. 
+
+“We’re taking a long time. Upperside must be many stories high in the air.” 
+
+For a moment, she looked puzzled. Then, “Oh no. Not high at all. We started very 
+deep. The University is at a low level. We use a great deal of energy and if we’re quire 
+deep, the energy costs are lower.” 
+
+Leggen said, “All right. We’re here. Lets get the equipment out.” 
+
+The elevator stopped with a small shudder and the wide door slid open rapidly. 
+The temperature dropped at once and Seldon thrust his hands into his pockets and was 
+very glad he had a sweater on. A cold wind stirred his hair and it occurred to him that he 
+would have found a hat useful and, even as he thought that, Leggen pulled something out 
+of a fold in his sweater, snapped it open, and put it on his head. The others did the same. 
+
+Only Clowzia hesitated. She paused just before she put hers on, then offered it to 
+
+Seldon. 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “I can’t take your hat, Clowzia.” 
+
+“Go ahead. I have long hair and it’s pretty thick. Yours is short and a litde . . . 
+
+thin.” 
+
+Seldon would have liked to deny that firmly and at another time he would have. 
+Now, however, he took the hat and mumbled, “Thank you. If your head gets cold, I’ll 
+give it back.” 
+
+Maybe she wasn’t so young. It was her round face, almost a baby face. And now 
+that she had called attention to her hair, he could see that it was a charming russet shade. 
+He had never seen hair quite like that on Helicon. 
+
+Outside it was cloudy, as it had been the time he was taken across open country to 
+the Palace. It was considerably colder than it had been then, but he assumed that was 
+because they were six weeks farther into winter. The clouds were thicker than they had 
+been on the earlier occasion and the day was distinctly darker and threatening, or was it 
+just closer to night? Surely, they wouldn’t come up to do important work without leaving 
+themselves an ample period of daylight to do it in. Or did they expect to take very little 
+
+
+
+time? 
+
+
+He would have liked to have asked, but it occurred to him that they might not like 
+questions at this time. All of them seemed to be in states varying from excitement to 
+anger. 
+
+Seldon inspected his surroundings. 
+
+He was standing on something that he thought might be dull metal from the sound 
+it made when he surreptitiously thumped his foot down on it. It was not bare metal, 
+however. When he walked, he left footprints. The surface was clearly covered by dust or 
+fine sand or clay. 
+
+Well, why not? There could scarcely be anyone coming up here to dust the place. 
+He bent down to pinch up some of the matter out of curiosity. 
+
+Clowzia had come up to him. She noticed what he was doing and said, with the 
+air of a housewife caught at an embarrassing negligence, “We do sweep hereabouts for 
+the sake of the instruments. It’s much worse most places Upperside, but it really doesn’t 
+matter. It makes for insulation, you know.” 
+
+Seldon grunted and continued to look about. There was no chance of 
+understanding the instruments that looked as though they were growing out of the thin 
+soil (if one could call it that). He hadn’t the faintest idea of what they were or what they 
+measured. 
+
+Leggen was walking toward him. He was picking up his feet and putting them 
+down gingerly and it occurred to Seldon that he was doing so to avoid jarring the 
+instruments. He made a mental note to walk that way himself. 
+
+“You! Seldon!” 
+
+Seldon didn’t quite like the tone of voice. He replied coolly, “Yes, Dr. Leggen?” 
+
+“Well, Dr. Seldon, then.” He said it impatiently. “That little fellow Randa told me 
+you are a mathematician.” 
+
+“That’s Wit.” 
+
+“A good one?” 
+
+“I’d like to think so, but it’s a hard thing to guarantee.” 
+
+“And you’re interested in intractable problems?” 
+
+Seldon said feelingly, “I’m stuck with one.” 
+
+“I’m stuck with another. You’re free to look about. If you have any questions, our 
+intern, Clowzia, will help out. You might be able to help us.” 
+
+“I would be delighted to, but I know nothing about meteorology.” 
+
+“That’s all right, Seldon. I just want you to get a feel for this thing and then I’d 
+like to discuss my mathematics, such as it is.” 
+
+“I’m at your service.” 
+
+Leggen turned away, his long scowling fare looking grim. Then he turned back. 
+“If you get cold, too cold, the elevator door is open. You just step in and touch the spot 
+marked; UNIVERSITY BASE. It will take you down and the elevator will then return to 
+us automatically. Clowzia will show you if you forget.” 
+
+“I won’t forget.” 
+
+This time he did leave and Seldon looked after him, feeling the cold wind knife 
+through his sweater. Clowzia came back over to him, her face slightly reddened by that 
+wind. 
+
+Seldon said, “Dr. Leggen seems annoyed. Or is that just his ordinary outlook on 
+
+
+
+life?” 
+
+
+She giggled. “He does look annoyed most of the time, but right now he really is.” 
+
+Seldon said very naturally, “Why?” 
+
+Clowzia looked over her shoulder, her long hair swirling. Then she said, “I’m not 
+supposed to know, but I do just the same. Dr. Leggen had it all figured out that today, just 
+at this time, there was going to be a break in the clouds and he’d been planning to make 
+special measurements in sunlight. Only . . . well, look at the weather.” 
+
+Seldon nodded. 
+
+“We have holovision receivers up here, so he knew it was cloudy worse than 
+usual and I guess he was hoping there would be something wrong with the instruments so 
+that it would be their fault and not that of his theory. So far, though, they haven’t found 
+anything out of the way.” 
+
+“And that’s why he looks so unhappy.” 
+
+“Well, he never looks happy. “ 
+
+Seldon looked about, squinting. Despite the clouds, the light was harsh. He 
+became aware that the surface under his feet was not quire horizontal. He was standing 
+on a shallow dome and as he looked outward there were other domes in all directions, 
+with different widths and heights. 
+
+“Upperside seems to be irregular, “ he said. 
+
+“Mostly, I think. Thai s the way it worked out.” 
+
+“Any reason for it?” 
+
+“Not really. The way I’ve heard it explained I looked around and asked, just as 
+you did, you know-was that originally the people on Trantor domed in places, shopping 
+malls, sports arenas, things like that, then whole towns, so that (here were lots of domes 
+here and there, with different heights and different widths. When they all came together, 
+it was all uneven, but by that time, people decided that’s the way it ought to be.” 
+
+“You mean that something quite accidental came to be viewed as a tradition?” 
+
+“ I suppose so, if you want to put it that way.” 
+
+(If something quite accidental can easily become viewed as a tradition and he 
+made unbreakable or nearly so, thought Seldon, would that be a law of psychohistory? It 
+sounded trivial, but how many other laws, equally trivial, might there be? A million? A 
+billion? Were there a relatively few general laws from which these trivial ones could be 
+derived as corollaries? How could he say? For a while, lost in thought, he almost forgot 
+the biting wind.) 
+
+Clowzia was aware of that wind, however, for she shuddered and said, “It’s very 
+nasty. It’s much better under the dome.” 
+
+“Are you a Trantorian?” asked Seldon. 
+
+“That’s right.” 
+
+Seldon remembered Ranch’s dismissal of Trantorians as agoraphobic and said, 
+“Do you mind being up here?” 
+
+“I hate it, “ said Clowzia, “but I want my degree and my specialty and status and 
+Dr. Leggen says I can’t get it without some field work. So here I am, hating it, especially 
+when it’s so cold. When it’s this cold, by the way, you wouldn’t dream that vegetation 
+actually grows on these domes, would you?” 
+
+“It doer?., He looked at Clowzia sharply, suspecting some sort of practical joke 
+designed to make him look foolish. She looked totally innocent, but how much of that 
+
+
+
+was real and how much was just her baby face? 
+
+“Oh sure. Even here, when it’s warmer. You notice the soil here? We keep it 
+swept away because of our work, as I said, but in other places it accumulates here and 
+there and is especially deep in the low places where the domes meet. Plants grow in it.” 
+
+“But where does the soil come from?” 
+
+“When the dome covered just part of the planet, the wind deposited soil on them, 
+little by little. Then, when Trantor was all covered and the living levels were dug deeper 
+and deeper, some of the material dug up, if suitable, would be spread over the top.” 
+
+“Surely, it would break down the domes.” 
+
+“Oh no. The domes are very strong and they’re supported almost everywhere. The 
+idea was, according to a book-film I viewed, that they were going to grow crops 
+Upperside, but it turned out to be much more practical to do it inside the dome. Yeast and 
+algae could be cultivated within the domes too, taking the pressure off the usual crops, so 
+it was decided to let Upperside go wild. There are animals on Upperside too butterflies, 
+bees, mice, rabbits. Lots of them.” 
+
+“Won’t the plant roots damage the domes?” 
+
+“In thousands of years they haven’t. The domes are treated so that they repel the 
+roots. Most of the growth is grass, but there are trees too. You’d be able to see for 
+yourself if this were the warm season or if we were farther south or if you were up in a 
+spaceship.” She looked at him with a sidewise flick of her eyes, “Did you see Trantor 
+when you were coming down from space?” 
+
+“No, Clowzia, I must confess I didn’t. The hypership was never well placed for 
+viewing. Have you ever seen Trantor from space?” 
+
+She smiled weakly. “I’ve never been in space.” 
+
+Seldon looked about. Gray everywhere. 
+
+“I can’t make myself believe it, “ he said. “About vegetation Upperside, I mean.” 
+
+“It’s true, though. I’ve heard people say, otherworlders, like yourself, who did see 
+Trantor from space, that the planet looks green, like a lawn, because it’s mostly grass and 
+underbrush. There are trees too, actually. There’s a copse not very far from here. I’ve 
+seen it. They’re evergreens and they’re up to six meters high.” 
+
+“Where?” 
+
+“You can’t see it from here. Its on the other side of a dome. It’s—” 
+
+The call came out thinly. (Seldon realized they had been walking while they had 
+been talking and had moved away from the immediate vicinity of the others.) “Clowzia. 
+Get back here. We need you.” 
+
+Clowzia said, “Uh-oh. Coming. Sorry, Dr. Seldon, I have to go.” She ran off, 
+managing to step lightly despite her lined boors. 
+
+Had she been playing with him? Had she been filling the gullible foreigner with a 
+mess of lies for amusement’s sake? Such things had been known to happen on every 
+world and in every time. An air of transparent honesty was no guide either; in fact, 
+successful Wetellers would deliberately cultivate just such an air. 
+
+So could there really be six-meter trees Upperside? Without thinking much about 
+it, he moved in the direction of the highest dome on the horizon. He swung his arms in an 
+attempt to warm himself. And his feet were getting cold. 
+
+Clowzia hadn’t pointed. She might have, to give him a hint of the direction of the 
+trees, but she didn’t. Why didn’t she? To be sure, she had been called away. 
+
+
+
+The domes were broad rather than high, which was a good thing, since otherwise 
+the going would have been considerably more difficult. On the other hand, the gentle 
+grade meant trudging a distance before he could top a dome and look down the other 
+side. 
+
+Eventually, he could see the other side of the dome he had climbed. He looked 
+back to make sure he could still see the meteorologists and their instruments. They were a 
+good way off, in a distant valley, but he could see them clearly enough. Good. 
+
+He saw no copse, no trees, but there was a depression that snaked about between 
+two domes. Along each side of that crease, the soil was thicker and there were occasional 
+green smears of what might be moss. If he followed the crease and if it got low enough 
+and the soil was thick enough, there might be trees. 
+
+He looked back, trying to fix landmarks in his mind, but there were just the rise 
+and fall of domes. It made him hesitate and Dors’s warning against his being lost, which 
+had seemed a rather unnecessary piece of advice then, made more sense now. Still, it 
+seemed clear to him that the crease was a kind of road. If he followed it for some 
+distance, he only had to turn about and follow it back to return to this spot. 
+
+He strode off purposefully, following the rounded crease downward. There was a 
+soft rumbling noise above, but he didn’t give it any thought. He had made up his mind 
+that he wanted to see trees and that was all that occupied him at the moment. 
+
+The moss grew thicker and spread out like a carpet and here and there grassy tufts 
+had sprung up. Despite the desolation Upperside, the moss was bright green and it 
+occurred to Seldon that on a cloudy, overcast planet there was likely to be considerable 
+rain. 
+
+The crease continued to curve and there, just above another dome, was a dark 
+smudge against the gray sky and he knew he had found the trees. 
+
+Then, as though his mind, having been liberated by the sight of those trees, could 
+turn to other things, Seldon took note of the rumble he had heard before and had, without 
+thinking, dismissed as the sound of machinery. Now he considered that possibility: Was 
+it, indeed, the sound of machinery? 
+
+Why not? He was standing on one of the myriad domes that covered hundreds of 
+millions of square kilometers of the worldcity. There must be machinery of all kinds 
+hidden under those domes, ventilation motors, for one thing. Maybe it could be heard, 
+where and when all the other sounds of the world-city were absent. 
+
+Except that it did not seem to come from the ground. He looked up at the dreary 
+featureless sky. Nothing. 
+
+He continued to scan the sky, vertical creases appearing between his eyes and 
+then, far off 
+
+It was a small dark spot, showing up against the gray. And whatever it was it 
+seemed to be moving about as though getting its bearings before it was obscured by the 
+clouds again. 
+
+Then, without knowing why, he thought, They’re after me. 
+
+And almost before he could work out a line of action, he had taken one. He ran 
+desperately along the crease toward the trees and then, to reach them more quickly, he 
+turned left and hurtled up and over a low dome, treading through brown and dying 
+fernlike overgrowth, including thorny sprigs with bright red berries. 
+
+
+
+24 . 
+
+
+Seldon panted, facing a tree, holding it closely, embracing it. He watched for the 
+flying object to make its appearance again so that he could back about the tree and hide 
+on the far side, like a squirrel. 
+
+The tree was cold, its bark was rough, it gave no comfort, but it offered cover. Of 
+course, that might be insufficient, if he was being searched for with a heat-seeker, but, on 
+the other hand, the cold trunk of a tree might blur even that. 
+
+Below him was hard-pecked soil. Even in this moment of hiding, of attempting to 
+see his pursuer while remaining unseen, he could not help wondering how thick the soil 
+might be, how long it had taken to accumulate, many domes in the warmer areas of 
+Trantor tarried forests on their back, and whether the trees were always confined to the 
+creases between domes, leaving the higher regions to moss, grass, and underbrush. 
+
+He sew it again. It was not a hypership, nor even an ordinary airjet. It was a jet- 
+down. He could see the faint glow of the ion trails corning out at the vertices of a 
+hexagon, neutralizing the gravitational pull and allowing the wings to keep it aloft like a 
+large soaring bird. It was a vehicle that could hover and explore a planetary terrain. 
+
+It was only the clouds than had saved him. Even if they were using heat-seekers, 
+that would only indicate there were people below. The jetdown would have make a 
+tentative dive below the banked ceiling before it could hope to know how many human 
+beings there were and whether any of them might be the particular person the patties 
+aboard were seeking. 
+
+The jet-down was closer now, but it couldn’t hide from him either. The rumble of 
+the engine gave it away and they couldn’t mm that off, not as long as they wished to 
+continue their search. Seldon knew the jetdowns, for on Helicon or on any undomed 
+world with skies that cleared now and then, they were common, with many in private 
+hands. 
+
+Of what possible use would jet-downs be on Trantor, with all the human life of 
+the world under domes, with low cloud ceilings all but perpetual-except for a few 
+government vehicles designed for just this purpose, that of picking up a wanted person 
+who had been lured above the domes? 
+
+Why not? Government forces could nor enter the grounds of the University, but 
+perhaps Seldon was no longer on the grounds. He was on top of the domes which might 
+be outside the jurisdiction of any local government. An Imperial vehicle might have 
+every right to land on any part of the dome and question or remove any person found 
+upon is Hummin had not warned him of this, but perhaps he had merely not thought of 
+doing so. 
+
+The jet-down was even closer now, nosing about like a blind beast sniffing out its 
+prey. Would it occur to them to search this group of trees? Would they land and send out 
+an armed soldier or two to beat through the copse? 
+
+And if so, what could he do? He was unarmed and all his quicktwist agility would 
+be useless against the agonizing pain of a neuronic whip. 
+
+It was not attempting to land. Either they missed the significance of the trees 
+
+Or... 
+
+A new thought suddenly hit him. What if this wasn’t a pursuit vessel at all? What 
+if it was part of the meteorological testing? Surely, meteorologists would want to test the 
+
+
+
+upper reaches of the atmosphere. 
+
+Was he a fool to hide from it? 
+
+The sky was getting darker. The clouds were getting thicker or, much more likely, 
+night was falling. 
+
+And it was getting colder and would get colder still. Was he going to stay out here 
+freezing because a perfectly harmless jetdown had made an appearance and had activated 
+a sense of paranoia that he had never felt before? He had a strong impulse to leave the 
+copse and get back to the meteorological station. 
+
+After all, how would the man Hummin feared so much Demercel-know that 
+Seldon would, at this particular time, be Upperside and ready to be taken? 
+
+For a moment, that seemed conclusive and, shivering with the cold, he moved out 
+from behind the tree. 
+
+And then he scurried back as the vessel reappeared even closer than before. He 
+hadn’t seen it do anything that would seem to be meteorological. It did nothing that might 
+be considered sampling, measuring, or testing. Would he see such things if they took 
+place? He did not know the precise sort of instruments the jet-down carried or how they 
+worked. If they were doing meteorological work, he might not be able to tell. -Still, could 
+he take the chance of coming into the open? 
+
+After all, what if Demerzel did know of his presence Upperside, simply because 
+an agent of his, working in the University, knew about it and had reported the matter. 
+Listing Randa, that cheerful, smiling little Easterner, had suggested he go Upperside. He 
+had suggested it quite forcefully and the subject had not arisen naturally out of the 
+conversation; at least, not naturally enough. Was it possible that he was a government 
+agent and had alerted Demerzel somehow? 
+
+Then there was Leggen, who had given him the sweater. The sweater was useful, 
+but why hadn’t Leggen told him he would need one earlier so he could get his own? Was 
+there something special about the one he was wearing? It was uniformly purple, while all 
+the others’ indulged in the Trantorian fashion of bright patterns. Anyone looking down 
+from a height would see a moving dull blotch in among others that were bright and know 
+immediately whom they wanted. 
+
+And Clowzia? She was supposedly Upperside to learn meteorology and help the 
+meteorologists. How was it possible that she could come to him, talk to him at ease, and 
+quietly walk him away from the others and isolate him so that he could easily be picked 
+up? 
+
+For that matter, what about Dors Venabili? She knew he was going Upperside. 
+
+She did not stop it. She might have gone with him, but she was conveniently busy. 
+
+It was a conspiracy. Surely, it was a conspiracy. 
+
+He had convinced himself now and there was no further thought of getting out 
+from the shelter of the trees. (His feet felt like lumps of ice and stamping them against the 
+ground seemed to do no good.) Would the jet-down never leave? 
+
+And even as he thought that, the pitch of the engine’s rumble heightened and the 
+jet-down rose into the clouds and faded away. 
+
+Seldon listened eagerly, alert to the smallest sound, making sure it was finally 
+gone. And then, even after he was sure it was gone, he wondered if that was just a device 
+to flush him out of hiding. He remained where he was while the minutes slowly crawled 
+on and night continued to fall. 
+
+
+
+And finally, when he felt that the true alternative to taking the chance of coming 
+out in the open was that of freezing into insensibility, he stepped out and moved 
+cautiously beyond the shelter of the trees. 
+
+It was dusky twilight, after all. They couldn’t detect him except by a hear-seeker, 
+but, if so, he would hear die jet-down return. He waited just beyond the trees, counting to 
+himself, ready to hide in the copse again at the smallest sound-though what good that 
+would do him once he was spotted, he couldn’t imagine. 
+
+Seldon looked about. If he could find the meteorologists, they would surely have 
+artificial light, but except for that, there would be nothing. 
+
+He could still just make out his surroundings, but in a matter of a quarter of an 
+hour, half an hour at the outside, he would not. With no lights and a cloudy sky above, it 
+would be dark-completely dark. 
+
+Desperate at the prospect of being enveloped in total darkness, Seldon realized 
+that he would have to find his way back to the crease that had brought him there as 
+quickly as possible and retrace his steps. Folding his arms tighdy around himself for 
+warmth, he set off in what he thought was the direction of the crease between the domes. 
+
+There might, of course, be more than one crease leading away from the copse, but 
+he dimly made out some of the sprigs of berries he had seen coming in, which now 
+looked almost black rather than bright red. He could not delay. He had to assume he was 
+right. He moved up the crease as fast as he might, guided by failing sight and by the 
+vegetation underfoot. 
+
+But he couldn’t stay in the crease forever. He had come over what had seemed to 
+him to be the tallest dome in sight and had found a crease that cut at right angles across 
+his line of approach. By his reckoning, he should now turn right, then sharp left, and that 
+would put him on the path toward the meteorologists’ dome. 
+
+Seldon made the left turn and, lifting his head, he could just make out the curve of 
+a dome against the fractionally lighter sky. That had to be it! 
+
+Or was that only wishful thinking? 
+
+He had no choice but to assume it wasn’t. Keeping his eye on the peak so that he 
+could move in a reasonably straight line, he headed for it as quickly as he could. As he 
+got closer, he could make out the line of dome against sky with less and less certainty as 
+it loomed larger and larger. Soon, if he was correct, he would be going up a gentle slope 
+and when that slope became level he would be able to look down the other side and see 
+the lights of the meteorologists. 
+
+In the inky dark, he could not tell what lay in his path. Wishing there were at least 
+a few sorts to shed some light, he wondered if this was how it felt to be blind. He waved 
+his arms before him as if they were antennae. 
+
+It was growing colder by the minute and he paused occasionally to blow on his 
+hands and hold them under his armpits. He wished earnestly he could do the same for his 
+feet. By now, he thought, if it started to precipitate, it would be snow-or, worse yet, sleet. 
+
+On . . . on. There was nothing else to do. 
+
+Eventually, it seemed to him that he was moving downward. That was either 
+wishful thinking or he had topped the dome. 
+
+He stopped. If he had topped the dome, he should be able to see the artificial light 
+of the meteorological station. He would see the lights carried by the meteorologists 
+themselves, sparkling or dancing like fireflies. 
+
+
+
+Seldon closed his eyes as though to accustom them to dark and then try again, but 
+that was a foolish effort. It was no darker with his eyes closed than with them open and 
+when he opened them it was no lighter than when he had had them closed. 
+
+Possibly Leggen and the others were gone, had taken their lights with them and 
+had turned off any lights on the instruments. Or possibly Seldon had climbed the wrong 
+dome. Or he had followed a curved path along the dome so that he was now facing in the 
+wrong direction. Or he had followed the wrong crease and had moved away from the 
+copse in the wrong direction altogether. 
+
+What should he do? 
+
+If he was facing the wrong direction, there was a chance that light would be 
+visible right or left— and it wasn’t. If he had followed the wrong crease, there was no 
+possible way he could return to the copse and locate a different crease. 
+
+His only chance lay in the assumption that he was facing the right direction and 
+that the meteorological station was more or less directly ahead of him, but that the 
+meteorologists had gone and had left it in darkness. 
+
+Move forward, then. The chances of success might be small, but it was the only 
+chance he had. 
+
+He estimated that it had taken him half an hour to move from the meteorological 
+station to the top of the dome, having gone partway with Clowzia and sauntering with her 
+rather than striding. He was moving at little better than a saunter now in the daunting 
+darkness. 
+
+Seldon continued to slog forward. It would have been nice to know the time and 
+he had a timeband, of course, but in the dark 
+
+He stopped. He wore a Trantorian timeband, which gave Galactic Standard time 
+(as all timebands did) and which also gave Trantorian local time. Timebands were usually 
+visible in the dark, phosphorescing so that one could tell time in the quiet dark of a 
+bedchamber. A Heliconian timeband certainly would; why not a Trantorian one? 
+
+He looked at his timeband with reluctant apprehension and touched the contact 
+that would draw upon the power source for light. The timeband gleamed feebly and told 
+him the time was 1847. For it to be nighttime already, Seldon knew that it must be the 
+winter season. -How far past the solstice was it? What was the degree of axial tipping? 
+How long was the year? How far from the equator was he at this moment? There was no 
+hint of an answer to any of these things, but what counted was that the spark of light was 
+visible. 
+
+He was not blind! Somehow the feeble glow of his timeband gave him renewed 
+
+hope. 
+
+His spirits rose. He would move on in the direction he was going. He would move 
+for half an hour. If he encountered nothing, he would move on five minutes more-no 
+further-just five minutes. If he still encountered nothing, he would stop and think. That, 
+however, would be thirty-five minutes from now. Till then, he would concentrate only on 
+walking and on willing himself to feel warmer (He wiggled his toes, vigorously. He could 
+still feel them.) 
+
+Seldon trudged onward and the half hour passed. He paused, then hesitantly, he 
+moved on for five more minutes. 
+
+Now he had to decide. There was nothing. He might be nowhere, far removed 
+from any opening into the dome. He might, on the other hand, be standing three meters to 
+
+
+
+the left— or right— or short-of the meteorological station. He might be two arms’ lengths 
+from the opening into the dome, which would not, however, be open. 
+
+Now what? 
+
+Was there any point in shouting? He was enveloped by utter silence but for the 
+whistling of the wind. If there were birds, beasts, or insects in among the vegetation on 
+the domes, they were not here during this season or at this time of night or at this 
+particular place. The wind continued to chill him. 
+
+Perhaps he should have been shouting all due way. The sound might have carried 
+a good distance in the cold air. But would there have been anyone to hear him? 
+
+Would they hear him inside the dome? Were there instruments to detect sound or 
+movement from above? Might there not be sentinels just inside? 
+
+That seemed ridiculous. They would have heard his footsteps, wouldn’t they? 
+
+Still- 
+
+He called out. “Help! Help! Can someone hear me?” 
+
+His cry was strangled, half-embarrassed. It seemed silly shouting into vast black 
+nothingness. 
+
+But then, he felt it was even sillier to hesitate in such a situation as this. Panic was 
+welling up in him. He took in a deep, cold breath and screamed for as long as he could. 
+Another breath and another scream, changing pitch. And another. 
+
+Seldon paused, breathless, turning his head every which way, even though there 
+was nothing to see. He could not even detect an echo. There was nothing left to do but 
+wait for the dawn. But how long was the night at this season of the year? And how cold 
+would it get? 
+
+He felt a tiny cold touch sting his face. After a while, another. 
+
+It was sleeting invisibly in the pitch blackness. And there was no way to find 
+
+shelter. 
+
+He thought: It would have been better if that jet-down had seen me and picked me 
+up. I would be a prisoner at this moment, perhaps, but I’d be warm and comfortable, at 
+least. 
+
+Or, if Hummin had never interfered, I might have been back in Helicon long ago. 
+Under surveillance, but warm and comfortable. Right now that was all he wanted-to be 
+warm and conformable. 
+
+But at the moment he could only wait. He huddled down, knowing that however 
+long the night, he dared not sleep. He slipped off his shoes and rubbed his icy feet. 
+Quickly, he put his shoes back on. 
+
+He knew he would have to repeat this, as well as rubbing his hands and ears all 
+night long to keep his circulation flowing. But most important to remember was that he 
+must not let himself fall asleep. That would mean certain death. 
+
+And, having carefully thought all this out, his eyes closed and he nodded off to 
+sleep with the sleet coming down. 
+
+Rescue 
+
+
+LEGGEN, JENARR- . . . His contributions to meteorology, however, although 
+considerable, pale before what has ever since been known as the Leggen Controversy. 
+That his actions helped to place Hari Seldon in jeopardy is undisputable, but argument 
+
+
+
+rages— and has always raged— as to whether those actions were the result of unintentional 
+circumstance or part of a deliberate conspiracy. Passions have been raised on both sides 
+and even the most elaborate studies have come to no definite conclusions. Nevertheless, 
+the suspicions that were raised helped poison Leggen’s career and private life in the years 
+that followed . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+25 . 
+
+It was not quite the end of daylight when Dors Venabili sought out Jenarr Leggen. 
+He answered her rather anxious greeting with a grunt and a brief nod. 
+
+“Well, “ she said a trifle impatiently. “How was he?” 
+
+Leggen, who was entering data into his computer, said, “How was who?” 
+
+“My library student Hari. Dr. Hari Seldon. He went up with you. Was he any help 
+to you?” 
+
+Leggen removed his hands from the keys of his computer and swivelled about. 
+“That Heliconian fellow? He was of no use at all. Showed no interest whatever. He kept 
+looking at the scenery when there was no scenery to look at. A real oddball. Why did you 
+want to send him up?” 
+
+“It wasn’t my idea. He wanted to. I can’t understand it. He was very interested. - 
+Where is he now?” 
+
+Leggen shrugged. “How would I know? Somewhere around.” 
+
+“Where did he go after he came down with you? Did he say?” 
+
+“He didn’t come down with us. I told you he wasn’t interested.” 
+
+“Then when did he come down?” 
+
+“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching him. I had an enormous amount of work to do. 
+There must have been a windstorm and some sort of downpour about two days ago and 
+neither was expected. Nothing our instruments showed offered a good explanation for it 
+or for the fact that some sunshine we were expecting today didn’t appear. Now I’m trying 
+to make sense of it and you’re bothering me.” 
+
+“You mean you didn’t see him go down?” 
+
+“Look. He wasn’t on my mind. The idiot wasn’t correctly dressed and I could see 
+that inside of half an hour he wasn’t going to be able to take the cold. I gave him a 
+sweater, but that wasn’t going to help much for his legs and feet. So I left the elevator 
+open for him and I told him how to use it and explained that it would take him down and 
+then return automatically. It was all very simple and I’m sure he did get cold and he did 
+go down and the elevator did come back and then eventually we all went down.” 
+
+“But you don’t know exactly when he went down?” 
+
+“No, I don’t. I told you. I was busy. He certainly wasn’t up there when we left, 
+though, and by that time twilight was coming on and it looked as though it might sleet. 
+
+So he had to have gone down.” 
+
+“Did anyone else see him go down?” 
+
+“I don’t know. Clowzia may have. She was with him for a while. Why don’t you 
+ask her?” 
+
+Dors found Clowzia in her quarters, just emerging from a hot shower. 
+
+“It was cold up there, “ she said. 
+
+
+
+Dors said, “Were you with Hari Seldon Upperside?” 
+
+Clowzia said, eyebrows lifting, “Yes, for a while. He wanted to wander about and 
+ask questions about the vegetation up there. He’s a sharp fellow, Dors. Everything 
+seemed to interest him, so I told him what I could till Leggen called me back. He was in 
+one of his knock-your-head-off tempers. The weather wasn’t working and he—” 
+
+Dors interrupted. “Then you didn’t see Hari go down in the elevator?” 
+
+“I didn’t see him at all after Leggen called me over, —but he has to be down here. 
+He wasn’t up there when we left.” 
+
+“But I can’t find him anywhere.” 
+
+Clowzia looked perturbed. “Really?— but he’s got to be somewhere down here.” 
+
+“No, he doesn’t have to be somewhere down here, “ said Dors, her anxiety 
+growing. “What if he’s still up there?” 
+
+“That’s impossible. He wasn’t. Naturally, we looked about for him before we left. 
+Leggen had shown him how to go down. He wasn’t properly dressed and it was rotten 
+weather. Leggen told him if he got cold not to wait for us. He was getting cold. I know! 
+
+So what else could he do but go down?” 
+
+“But no one saw him go down. -Did anything go wrong with him up there?” 
+
+“Nothing. Not while I was with him. He was perfectly fine except that he had to 
+be cold, of course.” 
+
+Dors, by now quite unsettled, said, “Since no one saw him go down, he might still 
+be up there. Shouldn’t we go up and look?” 
+
+Clowzia said nervously, “I told you we looked around before we went down. It 
+was still quite light and he was nowhere in sight.” 
+
+“Let’s look anyway.” 
+
+“But I can’t take you up there. I’m just an intern and I don’t have the combination 
+for the Upperside dome opening. You’ll have to ask Dr. Leggen.” 
+
+26 . 
+
+Dors Venabili knew that Leggen would not willingly go Upperside now. He 
+would have to be forced. 
+
+Lirst, she checked the library and the dining areas again. Then she called Seldon’ s 
+room Linally, she went up there and signaled at the door. When Seldon did not respond, 
+she had the floor manager open it. He wasn’t there. She questioned some of those who, 
+over the last few weeks, had come to know him. No one had seen him. 
+
+Well, then, she would make Leggen take her Upperside. By now, though, it was 
+night. He would object strenuously and how long could she spend arguing if Hari Seldon 
+was trapped up there on a freezing night with sleet turning to snow? 
+
+A thought occurred to her and she rushed to the small University computer, which 
+kept track of the doings of the students, faculty, and service staff. 
+
+Her fingers flew over the keys and she soon had what she wanted. 
+
+There were three of them in another part of the campus. She signed out for a small 
+glidecart to take her over and found the domicile she was looking for. Surely, one of them 
+would be available— or findable. 
+
+Lortune was with her. The first door at which she signaled was answered by a 
+query light. She punched in her identification number, which included her department 
+
+
+
+affiliation. The door opened and a plump middle-aged man stared out at her. He had 
+obviously been washing up before dinner. His dark blond hair was askew and he was not 
+wearing any upper garment. 
+
+He said, “Sorry. You catch me at a disadvantage. What can I do for you, Dr. 
+Venabili?” 
+
+She said a bit breathlessly, “You’re Rogen Benastra, the Chief Seismologist, 
+aren’t you?” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+“This is an emergency. I must see the seismological records for Upperside for the 
+last few hours.” 
+
+Benastra stared at her. “Why? Nothing’s happened. I’d know if it had. The 
+seismograph would inform us.” 
+
+“I’m not talking about a meteoric impact.” 
+
+“Neither am I. We don’t need a seismograph for that. I’m talking about gravel, 
+pinpoint fractures. Nothing today.” 
+
+“Not that either. Please. Take me to the seismograph and read it for me. This is 
+life or death.” 
+
+“I have a dinner appointment—” 
+
+“I said life or death and I mean it.” 
+
+Benastra said, “I don’t see—” but he faded out under Dors’ s glare. He wiped his 
+face, left quick word on his message relay, end struggled into a shirt. 
+
+They half-ran (under Dors’s pitiless urging) to the small squat Seismology 
+Building. Dors, who knew nothing about seismology, said, “Down? We’re going down?” 
+
+“Below the inhabited levels. Of course. The seismograph has to be fixed to 
+bedrock and be removed from the constant clamor and vibration of the city levels.” 
+
+“But how can you tell what’s happening Upperside from down here?” 
+
+“The seismograph is wired to a set of pressure transducers located within the 
+thickness of the dome. The impact of a speck of grit will send the indicator skittering off 
+the screed. We can detect the flattening effect on the dome of a high wind. We can—” 
+
+“Yes, yes, “ said Dors impatiently. She was not here for a lecture on the virtues 
+and refinements of the instruments. “Can you detect human footsteps?” 
+
+“Human footsteps?” Benastra looked confused. “That’s not likely Upperside.” 
+
+“Of course it’s likely. There were a group of meteorologists Upperside this 
+afternoon.” 
+
+“Oh. Well, footsteps would scarcely be noticeable.” 
+
+“It would be noticeable if you looked hard enough and that’s what I want you to 
+
+do.” 
+
+Benastra might have resented the firm note of command in her voice, but, if so, he 
+said nothing. He touched a contact and the computer screen jumped to life. 
+
+At the extreme right center, there was a fat spot of light, from which a thin 
+horizontal line stretched to the left limit of the screen. There was a tiny wriggle to it, a 
+random nonrepetitive Seder of little hiccups and these moved steadily leftward. It was 
+almost hypnotic in its effect on Dors. 
+
+Benastra said, ..That’s as quiet as it can possibly be. Anything you see is the result 
+of changing air pressure above, raindrops maybe, the distant whirr of machinery. There’s 
+nothing up there.” 
+
+
+
+“All right, but what about a few hours ago? Check on the records at fifteen 
+hundred today, for instance. Surely, you have some recordings.” 
+
+Benastm gave the computer its necessary instructions and for a second or two 
+there was wild chaos on the screen. Then it settled down and again the horizontal line 
+appeared. 
+
+“I’ll sensitize it to maximum, “ muttered Benastra. There were now pronounced 
+hiccups and as they staggered leftward they changed in pattern markedly. 
+
+“What’s that?” said Dors. “Tell me.” 
+
+“Since you say there were people up there, Venabili, I would guess they were 
+footsteps-the shifting of weight, the impact of shoes. I don’t know that I would have 
+guessed it if I hadn’t known about the people up there. Its what we call a benign 
+vibration, not associated with anything we know to be dangerous.” 
+
+“Can you tell how many people are present?” 
+
+“Certainly not by eye. You see, we’re getting a resultant of all the impacts.” 
+
+“You say ‘not by eye.’ Can the resultant be analyzed into its components by the 
+computer?” 
+
+“I doubt it. These are minimal effects and you have to allow for the inevitable 
+noise. The results would be untrustworthy.” 
+
+“Well then. Move the time forward till the footstep indications stop. Can you 
+make it fast-forward, so to speak?” 
+
+“If I do-the kind of fast-forward you’re speaking of- then it will all just blur into a 
+straight line with a slight haze above and below. What I can do is move it forward in 
+fifteen-minute stages and study it quickly before moving on.” 
+
+“Good. Do that!” 
+
+Both watched the screen until Benastra said, “There’s nothing there now. See?” 
+
+There was again a fine with nothing but tiny uneven hiccups of noise. 
+
+“When did the footsteps stop? 
+
+“Two hours ago. A trifle more.” 
+
+“And when they stopped were there fewer than there were earlier?” 
+
+Benastra looked mildly outraged. “I couldn’t tell. I don’t think the finest analysis 
+could make a certain decision.” 
+
+Dors pressed her lips together. Then she said, “Are you testing a transducer-is that 
+what you called it-near the meteorological outlet?” 
+
+“Yes, that’s where the instruments are and that’s where the meteorologists would 
+have been.” Then, unbelievingly, “Do you want the to try others in the vicinity? One at a 
+time?” 
+
+“No. Stay on this one. But keep on going forward at fifteen minute intervals. One 
+person may have been left behind and may have made his way back to the instruments.” 
+
+Benastra shook his head and muttered something under his breath. 
+
+The screen shifted again and Dors said sharply, “What’s that?” She was pointing. 
+
+“I don’t know. Noise.” 
+
+“No. Its periodic. Could it be a single person’s footsteps?” 
+
+“Sure, but it could be a dozen other things too.” 
+
+“It’s coming along at about the time of footsteps, isn’t it?” Then, after a while, she 
+said, “Push it forward a little.” 
+
+He did and when the screen settled down she said, “Aren’t those unevennesses 
+
+
+
+getting bigger?” 
+
+“Possibly. We can measure them.” 
+
+“We don’t have to. You can see they’re getting bigger. The footsteps are 
+approaching the transducer. Go forward again. See when they stop.” 
+
+After a while Benastm said, “They stopped twenty or twenty-five minutes ago.” 
+Then cautiously, “Whatever they are.” 
+
+“They’re footsteps, “ said Dors with mountain-moving conviction. “There’s a 
+man up there and while you and I have been fooling around here, he’s collapsed and he’s 
+going to freeze and die. Now don’t say, ‘Whatever they are!’ Just call Meteorology and 
+get me Jenarr Leggen. Life or death, I tell you. Say so!” 
+
+Benastra, lips quivering, had passed the stage where he could possibly resist 
+anything this strange and passionate woman demanded. 
+
+It took no more than three minutes to get Leggen’ s hologram on the message 
+platform. He had been pulled away from his dinner table. There was a napkin in his hand 
+and a suspicious greasiness under his lower lip. 
+
+His long face was set in a fearful scowl. “‘Life or death? ‘What is this? Who are 
+you?” Then his eye caught Dors, who had moved closer to Benastra so that her image 
+would be seen on Jenarr’s s screen. He said, “You again. This is simple harassment.” 
+
+Dors said, “It is not. I have consulted Rogen Benastra, who is Chief Seismologist 
+at the University. After you and your party had left Upperside, the seismograph shows 
+clear footsteps of one person still there. It’s my student Hari Seldon, who went up there in 
+your care and who is now, quite certainly, lying in a collapsed stupor and may not live 
+long. 
+
+“You will, therefore, take me up there right now with whatever equipment may be 
+necessary. If you do not do so immediately, I shall proceed to University security-to the 
+President himself, if necessary. One way or another I’ll get up there and if anything has 
+happened to Hari because you delay one minute, I will see to it that you are hauled in for 
+negligence, incompetence-whatever I can make stick— and will have you lose all status 
+and be thrown out of academic life. And if he’s dead, of course, that’s manslaughter by 
+negligence. Or worse, since I’ve now warned you he’s dying.” 
+
+Jenarr, furious, turned to Benastra. “Did you detect—” 
+
+But Dors cut in. “He told me what he detected and I’ve told you. I do not intend to 
+allow you to bulldoze him into confusion. Are you coming? Now?” 
+
+“Has it occurred to you that you may be mistaken?., said Jenarr, thinlipped. “Do 
+you know what I can do to you if this is a mischievous false alarm? Loss of status works 
+both ways.” 
+
+“Murder doesn’t, “ said Dors. “I’m ready to chance a trial for malicious mischief. 
+Are you ready to chance a trial for murder?” 
+
+Jenarr reddened, perhaps more at the necessity of giving in than at the threat. “I’ll 
+come, but I’ll have no merry on you, young woman, if your student eventually turns out 
+to have been safe within the dome these past three hours.” 
+
+27 . 
+
+The three went up the elevator in an inimical silence. Leggen had eaten only part 
+of his dinner and had left his wife at the dining area without adequate explanation. 
+
+
+
+Benastra had eaten no dinner at all and had possibly disappointed some woman 
+companion, also without adequate explanation. Dors Venabili had not eaten either and 
+she seemed the most tense and unhappy of the three. She carried a thermal blanket and 
+two photonic founts. 
+
+When they reached the entrance to Upperside, Leggen, jaw muscles tightening, 
+entered his identification number and the door opened. A cold wind rushed at them and 
+Benastra grunted. None of the three was adequately dressed, but the two men had no 
+intention of remaining up there long. 
+
+Dors said tightly, “It’s snowing.” 
+
+Leggen said, “It’s wet snow. The temperature’s just about at the freezing point. 
+It’s not a killing frost.” 
+
+“It depends on how long one remains in it, doesn’t it?” said Dors. “And being 
+soaked in melting snow won’t help.” 
+
+Leggen grunted. “Well, where is he?” He stared resentfully out into utter 
+blackness, made even worse by the light from the entrance behind him. 
+
+Dors said, “Here, Dr. Benastm, hold this blanket for me. And you, Dr. Leggen, 
+close the door behind you without locking it.” 
+
+“There’s no automatic lock on it. Do you think we’re foolish?” 
+
+“Perhaps not, but you can lock it from the inside and leave anyone outside unable 
+to get into the dome.” 
+
+“If someone’s outside, point him out. Show him to me, “ said Leggen. 
+
+“He could be anywhere.” Dors lifted her arms with a photonic fount circling each 
+
+wrist. 
+
+“We can’t look everywhere, “ mumbled Benastra miserably. 
+
+The founts blazed into light, spraying in every direction. The snowflakes glittered 
+like a vast mob Of fireflies, making it even more difficult to see. 
+
+“The footsteps were getting steadily louder, “ said Dors. “He had to be 
+approaching the transducer. Where would it be located?” 
+
+“I haven’t any idea, “ snapped Leggen. -That’s outside my field and my 
+responsibility.” 
+
+“Dr. Benastra?” 
+
+Benastra’s reply was hesitant. “I don’t really know. To tell you the truth, I’ve 
+never been up here before. It was installed before my time. The computer knows, but we 
+never thought to ask it that. -I’m cold and I don’t see what use I am up here.” 
+
+“You’ll have to stay up here for a while, “ said Dom firmly. “Follow me. I’m 
+going to circle the entrance in an outward spiral.” 
+
+“We can’t see much through the snow, “ said Leggen. 
+
+“I know that. If it wasn’t snowing, we’d have seen him by now. I’m sure of it. As 
+it is, it may take a few minutes. We can stand that.” She was by no means as confident as 
+her words made it appear. 
+
+She began to walk, swinging her arms, playing the light over as large a field as 
+she could, straining her eyes for a dark blotch against the snow. 
+
+And, as it happened, it was Benastra who first said, “What’s that?” and pointed. 
+
+Dom overlapped the two founts, making a bright cone of light in the indicated 
+direction. She ran toward it, as did the other two. 
+
+They had found him, huddled and wet, about ten meters from the door, five from 
+
+
+
+the nearest meteorological device. Dors felt for his heartbeat, but it was not necessary for, 
+responding to her touch, Seldon stirred and whimpered. 
+
+“Give me the blanket, Dr. Benastra, “ said Dors in a voice that was faint with 
+relief. She flapped it open and spread it out in the snow. “Lift him onto it carefully and 
+I’ll wrap him. Then we’ll carry him down.” 
+
+In the elevator, vapors were rising from the wrapped Seldon as the blanket 
+warmed to blood temperature. 
+
+Dom said, “Once we have him in his room, Dr. Leggen, you get a doctor-a good 
+one— and see that he comes at once. If Dr. Seldon gets through this without harm, I won’t 
+say anything, but only if he does. Remember—” 
+
+“You needn’t lecture me, “ said Leggen coldly. “I regret this and I will do what I 
+can, but my only fault was in allowing this man to come Upperside in the first place.” 
+
+The blanket stirred and a low, weak voice made itself heard. 
+
+Benastra started, for Seldon’ s head was cradled in the crook of his elbow. He said, 
+“He’s trying to say something.” 
+
+Dors said, “I know. He said, ‘What’s going on?’ “ 
+
+She couldn’t help but laugh just a little. It seemed such a normal thing to say. 
+
+28 . 
+
+The doctor was delighted. 
+
+“I’ve never seen a case of exposure, “ he explained. “One doesn’t get exposed on 
+Trantor.” 
+
+“That may be, “ said Dors coldly, “and I’m happy you have the chance to 
+experience this novelty, but does it mean that you do not know how to treat Dr. Seldon?” 
+
+The doctor, an elderly man with a bald head and a small gray mustache, bristled. 
+“Of course, I do. Exposure cases on the Outer Worlds are common enough— an everyday 
+affair— and I’ve read a great deal about them.” 
+
+Treatment consisted in part of an antiviral serum and the use of a microwave 
+wrapping. 
+
+“This ought to take care of it, “ the doctor said. “On the Outer Worlds, they make 
+use of much more elaborate equipment in hospitals, but we don’t have that, of course, on 
+Trantor. This is a treatment for mild cases and I’m sure it will do the job.” 
+
+Dons thought later, as Seldon was recovering without particular injury, that it was 
+perhaps because he was an Outworlder that he had survived so well. Dark, cold, even 
+snow were not utterly strange to him. A Trantorian probably would have died in a similar 
+case, not so much from physical trauma as from psychic shock. 
+
+She was not sure of this, of course, since she herself was not a Trantorian either. 
+
+And, turning her mind away from these thoughts, she pulled up a chair near to 
+Hari’s bed and settled down to wait. 
+
+29 . 
+
+On the second morning Seldon stirred awake and looked up at Dors, who sat at 
+his bedside, viewing a book-film and taking notes. 
+
+In a voice that was almost normal, Seldon said, “Still here, Dors?” 
+
+
+
+She put down the book-film. “I can’t leave you alone, tart I? And I don’t trust 
+anyone else.” 
+
+“It seems to me that every time I wake up, I see you. Have you been here all the 
+
+time?” 
+
+“Sleeping or waking, yes.” 
+
+“But your classes?” 
+
+“I have an assistant who has taken over for a while.” 
+
+Dors leaned over and grasped Hari’s hand. Noticing his embarrassment (he was, 
+after all, in bed), she removed it. 
+
+“Hari, what happened? I was so frightened.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I have a confession to make.” 
+
+“What is it, Hari?” 
+
+“I thought perhaps you were part of a conspiracy—” 
+
+“A conspiracy?” she said vehemendy. 
+
+“I mean, to maneuver me Upperside where I’d be outside University jurisdiction 
+and therefore subject to being picked up by Imperial forces.” 
+
+“But Upperside isn’t outside University jurisdiction. Sector jurisdiction on 
+Trantor is from the planetary center to the sky.” 
+
+“Ah, I didn’t know that. But you didn’t come with me because you said you had a 
+busy schedule and, when I was getting paranoid, I thought you were deliberately 
+abandoning me. Please forgive me. Obviously, it was you who got me down from there. 
+Did anyone else care?” 
+
+“They were busy men, “ said Dors carefully. “They thought you had come down 
+earlier. I mean, it was a legitimate thought.” 
+
+“Clowzia thought so too?” 
+
+“The young intern? Yes, she did.” 
+
+“Well, it may still have been a conspiracy. Without you, I mean.” 
+
+“No, Hari, it is my fault. I had absolutely no right to let you go 
+
+Upperside alone. It was my job to protect you. I can’t stop blaming myself for 
+what happened, for you getting lost.” 
+
+“Now, wait a minute, “ said Seldon, suddenly irritated. “I didn’t get lost. What do 
+you think I am?” 
+
+“I’d like to know what you call it. You were nowhere around when the others left 
+and you didn’t get back to the entrance— or to the neighborhood of the entrance anyway- 
+till well after dark.” 
+
+“But that’s not what happened. I didn’t get lost just because I wandered away and 
+couldn’t find my way back. I told you I was suspecting a conspiracy and I had cause to 
+do so. I’m not totally paranoid.” 
+
+“Well then, what did happen?” 
+
+Seldon told her. He had no trouble remembering it in full detail; he had lived with 
+it in nightmare for most of the preceding day. 
+
+Dors listened with a frown. “But that’s impossible. A jet-down? Are you sure?” 
+
+“Of course I’m sure. Do you think I was hallucinating?” 
+
+“But the Imperial forces could not have been searching for you. They could not 
+have arrested you Upperside without creating the same ferocious rumpus they would 
+have if they had sent in a police force to arrest you on campus.” 
+
+
+
+“Then how do you explain it?” 
+
+“I’m not sure, “ said Dors, “but it’s possible that the consequences of my failure 
+to go Upperside with you might have been worse than they were and that Hummin will 
+be seriously angry with me.” 
+
+“Then let’s not tell him, “ said Seldon. “It ended well.” 
+
+“We must tell him, “ said Dors grimly. “This may not be the end.” 
+
+30 . 
+
+That evening Jenarr Leggen came to visit. It was after dinner and he looked from 
+Dors to Seldon several times, as though wondering what to say. Neither offered to help 
+him, but both waited patiently. 
+
+He had not impressed either of them as being a master of small talk. 
+
+Finally he said to Seldon, “I’ve come to see how you are.” 
+
+“Perfectly well, “ said Seldon, “except that I’m a little sleepy. Dr. Venabili tells 
+me that the treatment will keep me tired for a few days, presumably so I’m sure of getting 
+needed rest.” He smiled. “Frankly, I don’t mind.” 
+
+Leggen breathed in deeply, let it out, hesitated, and then, almost as though he was 
+forcing the words out of himself, said, “I won’t keep you long. I perfectly understand you 
+need to test. I do want to say, though, that I am sorry it all happened. I should not have 
+assumed— so casually that you had gone down by yourself. Since you were a tyro, I 
+should have felt more responsible for you. After all, I had agreed to let you come up. I 
+hope you can find it in your heart to . . . forgive me. That’s really all I wish to say.” 
+
+Seldon yawned, purring his hand over his mouth. “Pardon me. -Since it seems to 
+have turned out well, there need be no hard feelings. In some ways, it was not your fault. 
+
+I should not have wandered away and, besides, what happened was “ 
+
+Dors interrupted. “Now, Hari, please, no conversation. Just relax. Now, I want to 
+talk to Dr. Leggen just a bit before he goes. In the first place, Dr. Leggen, I quite 
+understand you are concerned about how repercussions from this affair will affect you. I 
+told you there would be no follow-up if Dr. Seldon recovered without ill effects. That 
+seems to be taking place, so you may relax-for now. I would like to ask you about 
+something else and I hope that this time I will have your free cooperation.” 
+
+“I will try, Dr. Venabili, “ said Leggen stiffly. 
+
+“Did anything unusual happen during your stay Upperside?” 
+
+“You know it did. I lost Dr. Seldon, something for which I have just apologized.” 
+
+“Obviously I’m not referring to that. Did anything else unusual happen?” 
+
+“No, nothing. Nothing at all.” 
+
+Dors looked at Seldon and Seldon frowned. It seemed to him that Dors was trying 
+to check on his story and get an independent account. Did she think he was imagining the 
+search vessel? He would have liked to object heatedly, but she had raised a quieting hand 
+at him, as though she was preventing that very eventuality. He subsided, partly because 
+of this and partly because he really wanted to sleep. He hoped that Leggen would not stay 
+long. 
+
+“Are you certain?” said Dors. “Were there no intrusions from outside?” 
+
+“No, of course not. Oh—” 
+
+“Yes, Dr. Leggen?” 
+
+
+
+“There was a jet-down.” 
+
+“Did that strike you as peculiar?” 
+
+“No, of course not.” 
+
+“Why not?” 
+
+“This sounds very much as though I’m being cross-examined, Dr. Venabili. I 
+don’t much like it.” 
+
+“I can appreciate that, Dr. Leggen, but these questions have something to do with 
+Dr. Seldon’s misadventure. It may be that this whole affair is more complicated than I 
+had thought.” 
+
+“In what way?” A new edge entered his voice. “Do you intend to raise new 
+questions, requiring new apologies? In that case, I may find it necessary to withdraw.” 
+
+“Not, perhaps, before you explain how it is you do not find a hovering jet-down a 
+bit peculiar.” 
+
+“Because, my dear woman, a number of meteorological stations on Trantor 
+possess jet-downs for the direct study of clouds and the upper atmosphere. Our own 
+meteorological station does not.” 
+
+“Why not? It would be useful.” 
+
+“Of course. But we’re not competing and we’re not keeping secrets. We will 
+report on our findings; they will report on theirs. It makes sense, therefore, to have a 
+scattering of differences and specializations. It would be foolish to duplicate efforts 
+completely. The money and manpower we might spend on jet-downs can be spent on 
+mesonic refractometers, while others will spend on the first and save on the latter. After 
+all, there may be a great deal of competitiveness and ill feeling among the sectors, but 
+science is one thing— only thing-that holds us together. You know that, I presume, “ he 
+added ironically. 
+
+“I do, but isn’t it rather coincidental that someone should be sending a jet-down 
+right to your station on die very day you were going to use the station?” 
+
+“No coincidence at all. We announced that we were going to make measurements 
+on that day end, consequently, some other station thought, very properly, that they might 
+make simultaneous nephelometric measurements— clouds, you know. The results, taken 
+together, would make more sense and be more useful than either taken separately.” 
+
+Seldon said suddenly in a rather blurred voice, “They were just measuring, then?” 
+He yawned again. 
+
+“Yes” said Leggen. “What else could they possibly be doing?” 
+
+Dons blinked her eyes, as she sometimes did when she was trying to think rapidly. 
+“That all makes sense. To which station did this particular jet-down belong? 
+
+Leggen shook his head. “Dr. Venabili, how can you possibly expect me to tell?” 
+
+“I thought that each meteorological jet-down might possibly have its station’s 
+markings on it.” 
+
+“Surely, but I wasn’t looking up and studying it, you know. I had my own work to 
+do and I let them do theirs. When they report, I’ll know whose jet-down it was.” 
+
+“What if they don’t report?” 
+
+“Then I would suppose their instruments failed. That happens sometimes.” His 
+right fist was clenched. “Is that all, then?” 
+
+“Wait a moment. Where do you suppose the jet-down might have come from?” 
+
+“It might be any station with jet-downs. On a day’s notice— and they got more 
+
+
+
+than that-one of those vessels can reach us handily from anyplace on the planet.” 
+
+“But who most likely?” 
+
+“Hard to say: Hestelonia, Wye, Ziggoreth, North Damiano. I’d say one of these 
+four was the most likely, but it might be any of forty others at least.” 
+
+“Just one more question, then. Just one. Dr. Leggen, when you announced that 
+your group would be Upperside, did you by any chance say that a mathematician, Dr. 
+Hari Seldon, would be with you 
+
+A look of apparently deep and honest surprise crossed Leggen’ s face, a look that 
+quickly turned contemptuous. “Why should I liar names? Of what interest would that be 
+to anyone?” 
+
+“Very well, “ said Dors. “The truth of the matter, then, is that Dr. Seldon saw the 
+jet-down and it disturbed him. I am not certain why and apparently his memory is a bit 
+fuzzy on the matter. He more or less ran away from the jet-down, got himself lost, didn’t 
+think of trying to return— or didn’t dare to-till it was well into twilight, and didn’t quite 
+make it back in the dark. You can’t be blamed for that, so let’s forget the whole incident 
+on both sides. 
+
+“Agreed, “ said Leggen. “Good-bye!” He turned on his heel and left. 
+
+When he was gone, Dors rose, pulled off Seldon’ s slippers gently, straightened 
+him in his bed, and covered him. He was sleeping, of course. 
+
+Then she sat down and thought. How much of what Leggen had said was true and 
+what might possibly exist under the cover of his words? She did not know. 
+
+Mycogen 
+
+
+MYCOGEN- ... A sector of ancient Trantor Buried in the past of its own legends 
+Mycogen made little impact on the planet. Self-satisfied and self-separated to a degree . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+31 . 
+
+When Seldom woke, he found a new face looking at him solemnly. For a moment 
+he frowned owlishly and then he said, “Hummin?” 
+
+Hummin smiled very slightly. “You remember me, then?” 
+
+“It was only for a day, nearly two months ago, but I remember. You were not 
+arrested, then, or in any way 
+
+“As you see, I am here, quite safe and whole, but — and he glanced at Dors, who 
+stood to one side-’it was not very easy for me to come here.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I’m glad to see you. -Do you mind, by the way?” He jerked his 
+thumb in the direction of the bathroom. 
+
+Hummin said, “Take your time. Have breakfast.” 
+
+Hummin didn’t join him at breakfast. Neither did Dors. Nor did they speak. 
+Hummin scanned a book-film with an attitude of easy absorption. Dors inspected her 
+nails critically and then, taking out a microcomputer, began making notes with a stylus. 
+
+Seldon watched them thoughtfully and did not try to start a conversation. The 
+silence now might be in response to some 
+
+
+
+Trantorian reserve customary at a sickbed. To be sure, he now felt perfectly 
+normal, but perhaps they did not realize that. 
+
+It was only when he was done with his last morsel and with the final drop of milk 
+(which he was obviously getting used to, for it no longer tasted odd) that Hummin spoke. 
+
+He said, “How are you, Seldon?” 
+
+“Perfectly well, Hummin. Sufficiently well, certainly, for me to be up and about.” 
+
+“I’m glad to hear it, “ said Hummin dryly. “Dons Venabili was much to blame in 
+allowing this to happen.” 
+
+Seldon frowned. “No. I insisted on going Upperside.” 
+
+“I’m sure, but she should, at all costs, have gone with you.” 
+
+“I told her I didn’t want her to go with me.” 
+
+Dors said, “That’s not so, Hari. Don’t defend me with gallant lies.” 
+
+Seldon said angrily, “But don’t forget that Dors also came Upperside after me, 
+against strong resistance, and undoubtedly saved my life. That’s not bending the truth at 
+all. Have you added that to your evaluation, Hummin?” 
+
+Dors interrupted again, obviously embarrassed. “Please, Hari. Chetter Hummin is 
+perfectly correct in feeling that I should either have kept you from going Upperside or 
+have gone up with you. As for my subsequent actions, he has praised them.” 
+
+“Nevertheless, “ said Hummin, “that is past and we can let it go. Let us talk about 
+what happened Upperside, Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon looked about and said guardedly, “Is it safe to do so?” 
+
+Hummin smiled slighdy. “Dons has placed this room in a Distortion Field. I can 
+be pretty sure that no Imperial agent at the University-if there is one-has the expense to 
+penetrate it. You are a suspicious person, Seldon.” 
+
+“Not by nature, “ said Seldon. “Listening to you in the park and afterward- You 
+are a persuasive person, Hummin. By the time you were through, I was ready to fear that 
+Eto Demerzel was lurking in every shadow.” 
+
+“I sometimes think he might be, “ said Hummin gravely. 
+
+“If he was, “ said Seldon, “I wouldn’t know it was he. What does he look like?” 
+
+“That scarcely matters. You wouldn’t see him unless he wanted you to and by 
+then it would all be over, I imagine-which is what we must prevent. Lets talk about that 
+jet-down you saw.” 
+
+Seldon said, “As I told you, Hummin, you filled me with fears of Demerzel. As 
+soon as I saw the jet-down, I assumed he was after me, that I had foolishly stepped 
+outside the protection of Streeling University by going Upperside, that I had been lured 
+up there for the specific purpose of being picked up without difficulty.” 
+
+Dors said, “On the other hand, Leggen— ” 
+
+Seldon said quickly, “Was he here last night?” 
+
+“Yes, don’t you remember?” 
+
+“Vaguely. I was dead tired. It’s all a blur in my memory.” 
+
+“Well, when he was here last night, Leggen said that the jetdown was merely a 
+meteorological vessel from another station. Perfectly ordinary. Perfectly harmless.” 
+
+“What?” Seldon was taken aback. “I don’t believe that.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Now the question is: Why don’t you believe that? Was there 
+anything about the jet-down that made you think it was dangerous? Something specific, 
+that is, and not just a pervasive suspicion placed in your head by me.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon thought back, biting his lower lip. He said, “Its anions. It seemed to push 
+its forepart below the cloud deck, as though it were looking for something, then it would 
+appear in another spot just the same way, then in another spot, and so on. It seemed to be 
+searching Upperside methodically, section by section, and homing in on me.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Perhaps you were personifying, Seldon. You may have been 
+treating the jet-down as though it was a strange animal looking for you. It wasn’t, of 
+course. It was simply a jetdown and if it war a meteorological vessel, its actions were 
+perfectly normal . . . and harmless.” 
+
+Seldon said, “It didn’t seem that way to me.” 
+
+Hummin said, “I’m sure it didn’t, but we don’t actually know anything. Your 
+conviction that you were in danger is simply an assumption. Leggen’s decision that it was 
+a meteorological vessel is also only an assumption.” 
+
+Seldon said stubbornly, “I can’t believe that it was an entirely innocent event.” 
+
+“Well then, “ said Hummin, “suppose we assume the worst— that the vessel toot 
+looking for you. How would whoever sent that vessel know you would be there to seek?” 
+
+Dors interjected, “I asked Dr. Leggen if he had, in his report of the forthcoming 
+meteorological work, included the information that Hari would be with the group. There 
+was no reason he should in the ordinary course of events and he denied that he had, with 
+considerable surprise at the question. I believed him.” 
+
+Hummin said thoughtfully, “Don’t believe him too readily. Wouldn’t he deny it, 
+in any case? Now ask yourself why he allowed Seldon to come along in the first place. 
+We know he objected initially, but he did relent, without much fight. And that, to me, 
+seems rather out of character for Leggen.” 
+
+Dors frowned and said, “I suppose that does make it a bit more likely that he did 
+arrange the entire affair. Perhaps he permitted Hari’s company only in order to put him in 
+the position of being taken. He might have received orders to that effect. We might 
+further argue that he encouraged his young intern, Clowzia, to engage Hari’s attention 
+and draw him away from the group, isolating him. That would account for Leggen’s odd 
+lack of concern over Hari’s absence when it came time to go below. He would insist that 
+Hari had left earlier, something he would have laid the groundwork for, since he had 
+carefully showed him how to go down by himself. It would also account for his 
+reluctance to go back up in search of him, since he would not want to waste time looking 
+for someone he assumed would not be found.” 
+
+Hummin, who had listened carefully, said, “You make an interesting case against 
+him, but lets not accept that too readily either. After all, he did come Upperside with you 
+in the end.” 
+
+“Because footsteps had been detected. The Chief Seismologist had home witness 
+to that.” 
+
+“Well, did Leggen show shock and surprise when Seldon was found? I mean, 
+beyond that of finding someone who had been brought into extreme peril through 
+Leggen’s own negligence. Did he act as though Seldon wasn’t supposed to be there? Did 
+he behave as though he were asking himself: How is it they didn’t pick him up?” 
+
+Dors thought carefully, then said, “He was obviously shocked by the sight of Hari 
+lying there, but I couldn’t possibly tell if there was anything to his feelings beyond the 
+very natural horror of the situation.” 
+
+“No, I suppose you couldn’t.” 
+
+
+
+But now Seldon, who had been looking from one to the other as they spoke and 
+who had been listening intently, said, “I don’t think it was Leggen.” 
+
+Hummin transferred his attention to Seldon. “Why do you say that?” 
+
+“For one thing, as you noted, he was clearly unwilling to have me come along. It 
+took a whole day of argument and I think he agreed only because he had the impression 
+that I was a clever mathematician who could help him out with meteorological theory. I 
+was anxious to go up there and, if he had been under orders to see to it that I was taken 
+Upperside, there would have been no need to be so reluctant about it.” 
+
+“Is it reasonable to suppose he wanted you only for your mathematics? Did he 
+discuss the mathematics with you? Did he make an attempt to explain his theory to you?” 
+
+“No, “ said Seldon, “he didn’t. He did say something about going into it later on, 
+though. The trouble was, he was totally involved with his instruments. I gathered he had 
+expected sunshine that hadn’t showed up and he was counting on his instruments having 
+been at fault, but they were apparently working perfectly, which frustrated him. I think 
+this was an unexpected development that both soured his temper and turned his attention 
+away from me. As for Clowzia, the young woman who preoccupied me for a few 
+minutes, I do not get the feeling, as I look back on it, that she deliberately led me away 
+from the scene. The initiative was mine. I was curious about the vegetation on Upperside 
+and it was I who drew her away, rather than vice versa. Far from Leggen encouraging her 
+action, he called her back while I was still in sight and I moved farther away and out of 
+sight entirely on my own.” 
+
+“And yet, “ said Hummin, who seemed intent on objecting to every suggestion 
+that was made, “if that ship was looking for you, those on board must have known you’d 
+be there. How would they know-if not from Leggett?” 
+
+“The man I suspect, “ said Seldon, “is a young psychologist named Listing 
+
+Ranch” 
+
+“Randa?” said Dors. “I can’t believe that. I know him. He simply would not be 
+working for the Emperor. He’s anti-imperialist to the core.” 
+
+“He might pretend to be, “ said Seldon. “In fact, he would have to be openly, 
+violently, and extremely anti-imperialist if he was trying to mask the fact that he is an 
+Imperial agent.” 
+
+“But that’s exactly what he’s not like, “ said Dors. “He is not violent and extreme 
+in anything. He’s quiet and good-natured and his views are always expressed mildly, 
+almost timidly. I’m convinced they’re genuine.” 
+
+“And yet, Dors, “ said Seldon earnestly, “it was he who first told me of the 
+meteorological project, it was he who urged me to go Upperside, and it was he who 
+persuaded Leggen to allow me to join him, rather exaggerating my mathematical prowess 
+in the process. One must wonder why he was so anxious to get me up there, why he 
+should labor so hard.” 
+
+“For your good, perhaps. He was interested in you, Hari, and must have thought 
+that meteorology might have been useful in psychohistory. Isn’t that possible?” 
+
+Hummin said quietly, “Lets consider another point. There was a considerable 
+lapse of time between the moment when Randa told you about the meteorology project 
+and the moment you actually went Upperside. If Randa is innocent of anything 
+underhanded, he would have no particular reason to keep quiet about it. If he is a friendly 
+and gregarious person—” 
+
+
+
+“He is, “ said Dors. 
+
+“-then he might very likely tell a number of friends about it. In that case, we 
+couldn’t really tell who the informer might be. In fact, just to make another point, 
+suppose Randa is anti-imperialist. That would not necessarily mean he is not an agent. 
+
+We would have to ask: Whom is he an agent for? On whose behalf does he work?” 
+
+Seldon was astonished. “Who else is there to work for but the Empire? Who else 
+but Demerzel?” 
+
+Hummin raised his hand. “You are far from understanding the whole complexity 
+of Trantorian politics, Seldon.” He turned toward Dors. “Tell me again: Which were the 
+four sectors that Dr. Leggen named as likely sources for a meteorological vessel?” 
+
+“Hestelonia, Wye, Ziggoreth, and North Damiano.” 
+
+“And you did not ask the question in any leading way? You didn’t ask if a 
+particular sector might be the source?” 
+
+“No, definitely not. I simply asked if he could speculate as to the source of the jet- 
+
+down.” 
+
+“And you”-Hummin turned to Seldon “may perhaps have seen some marking, 
+some insigne, on the jet-down?” 
+
+Seldon wanted to retort heatedly that the vessel could hardly be seen through the 
+clouds, that it emerged only briefly, that he himself was not looking for markings, but 
+only for escape— but he held back. Surely, Hummin knew all that. 
+
+Instead, he said simply, “I’m afraid not.” 
+
+Dors said, “If the jet-down was on a kidnapping mission, might not the insigne 
+have been masked?” 
+
+“That is the rational assumption, “ said Hummin, “and it may well have been, but 
+in this Galaxy rationality does not always triumph. However, since Seldon seems to have 
+taken no note of any details concerning the vessel, we can only speculate. What I’m 
+thinking is: Wye.” 
+
+“Why?” echoed Seldon. “I presume they wanted to take me because whoever was 
+on the ship wanted me for my knowledge of psychohistory.” 
+
+“No no.” Hummin lifted his right forefinger as if lecturing a young student. “W-y- 
+e. It is the name of a sector on Trantor. A very special sector. It has been ruled by a line 
+of Mayors for some three thousand years. It has been a continuous line, a single dynasty. 
+There was a time, some five hundred years ago, when two Emperors and an Empress of 
+the House of Wye sat on the Imperial throne. It was a comparatively short period and 
+none of the Wye rulers were particularly distinguished or successful, but the Mayors of 
+Wye have never forgotten this Imperial past. 
+
+“They have not been actively disloyal to the ruling houses that have succeeded 
+them, but neither have they been known to volunteer much on behalf of those houses. 
+During the occasional periods of civil war, they maintained a kind of neutrality, making 
+moves that seemed best calculated to prolong the civil war and make it seem necessary to 
+turn to Wye as a compromise solution. That never worked out, but they never stopped 
+trying either. 
+
+“The present Mayor of Wye is particularly capable. He is old now, but his 
+ambition hasn’t cooled. If anything happens to Cleon -even a natural death-the Mayor 
+will have a chance at the succession over Cleon’s own too-young son. The Galactic 
+public will always be a little more partial toward a claimant with an Imperial past. 
+
+
+
+“Therefore, if the Mayor of Wye has heard of you, you might serve as a useful 
+scientific prophet on behalf of his house. There would be a traditional motive for Wye to 
+try to arrange some convenient end for Cleon, use you to predict the inevitable succession 
+of Wye and the coming of peace and prosperity for a thousand years after. Of course, 
+once the Mayor of Wye is on the throne and has no further use for you, you might well 
+follow Cleon to the grave.” 
+
+Seldon broke the grim silence that followed by saying, “But we don’t know that it 
+is this Mayor of Wye who is after me.” 
+
+“No, we don’t. Or that anyone at all is after you, at the moment. The jet-down 
+might, after all, have been an ordinary meteorological testing vessel as Leggen has 
+suggested. Still, as the news concerning psychohistory and its potential spreads— and it 
+surely must -.:.ore and more of the powerful and semipowerful on Trantor or, for that 
+matter, elsewhere will want to make use of your services.” 
+
+“What, then, “ said Dors, “shall we do?” 
+
+“That is the question, indeed.” Hummin ruminated for a while, then said, 
+
+“Perhaps it was a mistake to come here. For a professor, it is all too likely that the hiding 
+place chosen would be a University. Streeling is one of many, but it is among the largest 
+and most free, so it wouldn’t be long before tendrils from here and there would begin 
+feeling their soft, blind way toward this place. I think that as soon as possible-today, 
+perhaps-Seldon should be moved to another and better hiding place. But- 
+
+“But?” said Seldon. 
+
+“But I don’t know where.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Call up a gazetteer on the computer screen and choose a place at 
+random.” 
+
+“Certainly not, “ said Hummin. “If we do that, we are as likely to find a place that 
+is less secure than average, as one that is more secure. No, this must be reasoned out. - 
+Somehow.” 
+
+32. 
+
+The three remained huddled in Seldon’s quarters till past lunch. During that time, 
+Hari and Dors spoke occasionally and quietly on indifferent subjects, but Hummin 
+maintained an almost complete silence. He sat uptight, ate little, and his grave 
+countenance (which, Seldon thought, made him look older than his years) remained quiet 
+and withdrawn. 
+
+Seldon imagined him to be reviewing the immense geography of Trantor in his 
+mind, searching for a comer that would be ideal. Surely, it couldn’t be easy. 
+
+Seldon’s own Helicon was somewhat larger by a percent or two than Trantor was 
+and had a smaller ocean. The Heliconian land surface was perhaps 10 percent larger than 
+the Trantorian. But Helicon was sparsely populated, its surface only sprinkled with 
+scattered cities; Trantor was all city. Where Helicon was divided into twenty 
+administrative sectors; Trantor had over eight hundred and every one of those hundreds 
+was itself a complex of subdivisions. 
+
+Finally Seldon said in some despair, “Perhaps it might be best, Hummin, to chose 
+which candidate for my supposed abilities is most nearly benign, hand me over to that 
+one, and count on him to defend me against the rest.” 
+
+
+
+Hummin looked up and said in utmost seriousness, “That is not necessary. I know 
+the candidate who is most nearly benign and he already has you.” 
+
+Seldon smiled. “Do you place yourself on the same level with the Mayor of Wye 
+and the Emperor of all the Galaxy?” 
+
+“In point of view of position, no. But as far as the desire to control you is 
+concerned, I rival them. They, however, and anyone else I can think of want you in order 
+to strengthen their own wealth and power, while I have no ambitions at all, except for the 
+good of the Galaxy.” 
+
+“I suspect, “ said Seldon dryly, “that each of your competitors-if asked-would 
+insist that he too was thinking only of the good of the Galaxy.” 
+
+“I am sure they would, “ said Hummin, “but so far, the only one of my 
+competitors, as you call them, whom you have met is the Emperor and he was interested 
+in having you advance fictionalized predictions that might stabilize his dynasty. I do not 
+ask you for anything like that. I ask only that you perfect your psychohistorical technique 
+so that mathematically valid predictions, even if only statistical in nature, can be made.” 
+
+“True. So far, at least, “ said Seldon with a half-smile. 
+
+“Therefore, I might as well ask: How are you coming along with that task? Any 
+progress?” 
+
+Seldon was uncertain whether to laugh or cage. After a pause, he did neither, but 
+managed to speak calmly. “Progress? In less than two months? Hummin, this is 
+something that might easily take me my whole life and the lives of the next dozen who 
+follow me. —and even then end in failure.” 
+
+“I’m not talking about anything as final as a solution or even as hopeful as the 
+beginning of a solution. You’ve said flatly a number of times that a useful psychohistory 
+is possible but impractical. All I am asking is whether there now seems any hope that it 
+can be made practical.’ 
+
+“Frankly, no.” 
+
+Dors said, “Please excuse me. I am not a mathematician, so I hope this is not a 
+foolish question. How can you know something is both possible and impractical? I’ve 
+heard you say that, in theory, you might personally meet and greet all the people in the 
+Empire, but that it is not a practical feat because you couldn’t live long enough to do it. 
+But how can you tell that psychohistory is something of this sort?” 
+
+Seldon looked at Dors with some incredulity. “Do you want that explained.” 
+
+“Yes, “ she said, nodding her head vigorously so that her curled hair vibrated. 
+
+“As a matter of fact, “ said Hummin, “so would L” 
+
+“Without mathematics?” said Seldon with just a trace of a smile. 
+
+“Please, “ said Hummin. 
+
+“Well—” He retired into himself to choose a method of presentation. Then he 
+said,— If you want to understand some aspect of the Universe, it helps if you simplify it as 
+much as possible and include only those properties and characteristics that are essential to 
+understanding. If you want to determine how an object drops, you don’t concern yourself 
+with whether it is new or old, is red or green, or has an odor or not. You eliminate those 
+things and thus do trot needlessly complicate matters. The simplification you can call a 
+model or a simulation and you can present it either as an actual representation on a 
+computer screen or as a mathematical relationship. If you consider the primitive theory of 
+nonrelativistic gravitation “ 
+
+
+
+Don said at once, “You promised there would be no mathematics. Don’t try to slip 
+it in by calling it ‘primitive.’ “ 
+
+“No no. I mean ‘primitive’ only in that it has been known as long as our records 
+go back, that its discovery is shrouded in the mists of antiquity as is that of fire or the 
+wheel. In any case, the equations for such gravitational theory contain within themselves 
+a description of the motions of a planetary system, of a double star, of tides, and of many 
+other things. Making use of such equations, we can even set up a pictorial simulation and 
+have a planet circling a star or two stars circling each other on a two-dimensional screen 
+or set up more complicated systems in a three-dimensional holograph. Such simplified 
+simulations make it far easier to grasp a phenomenon than it would be if we had to study 
+the phenomenon itself. In fact, without the gravitational equations, our knowledge of 
+planetary motions and of celestial mechanics generally would be sparse indeed. 
+
+“Now, as you wish to know more and more about any phenomenon or as a 
+phenomenon becomes more complex, you need more and more elaborate equations, more 
+and more detailed programming, and you end with a computerized simulation that is 
+harder and harder to grasp.” 
+
+“Can’t you form a simulation of the simulation?” asked Hummin. “You would go 
+down another degree.” 
+
+“In that case, you would have to eliminate some characteristic of the phenomenon 
+which you want to include and your simulation becomes useless. The LPS-that is, ‘the 
+least possible simulation’ gains in complexity faster than the object being simulated does 
+and eventually the simulation catches up with the phenomenon. Thus, it was established 
+thousands of years ago that the Universe as a whole, in its full complexity, cannot be 
+represented by any simulation smaller than itself. 
+
+“In other words, you can’t get any picture of the Universe as a whole except by 
+studying the entire Universe. It has been shown also that if one attempts to substitute 
+simulations of a small pan of the Universe, then another small part, then another small 
+part, and so on, intending to put them all together to form a total picture of the Universe, 
+one would find that there are an infinite number of such part simulations. It would 
+therefore take an infinite time to understand the Universe in full and that is just another 
+way of saying that it is impossible to gain all the knowledge there is.” 
+
+“I understand you so far, “ said Dors, sounding a little surprised. 
+
+“Well then, we know that some comparatively simple things are easy to simulate 
+and as things grow more and more complex they become harder to simulate until finally 
+they become impossible to simulate. But at what level of complexity does simulation 
+cease to be possible? Well, what I have shown, making use of a mathematical technique 
+first invented in this past century and barely usable even if one employs a large and very 
+fast computer, our Galactic society falls short of that mark. It can be represented by a 
+simulation simpler than itself. And I went on to show that this would result in the ability 
+to predict future events in a statistical fashion-that is, by stating the probability for 
+alternate sets of events, rather than flatly predicting that one set will take place.” 
+
+“In that case, “ said Hummin, “since you can profitably simulate Galactic society, 
+it’s only a matter of doing so. Why is it impractical?” 
+
+“All I have proved is that it will not take an infinite time to understand Galactic 
+society, but if it takes a billion years it will still be impractical. That will be essentially 
+the same as infinite time to us.” 
+
+
+
+“Is that how long it would take? A billion years?” 
+
+“I haven’t been able to work out how long it would take, but I strongly suspect 
+that it will take at least a billion years, which is why I suggested that number.” 
+
+“But you don’t really know.” 
+
+“I’ve been trying to work it out.” 
+
+“Without success?” 
+
+“Without success.” 
+
+“The University library does not help?” Hummin cast a look at Dors as he asked 
+the question. 
+
+Seldon shook his head slowly. “Not at all.” 
+
+“Dors can’t help?” 
+
+Dors sighed. “I know nothing about the subject, Chetter. I can only suggest ways 
+of looking. If Hari looks and doesn’t find, I am helpless.” 
+
+Hummin rose to his feet. “In that case, there is no great use in staying here at the 
+University and I must chink of somewhere else to place you.” 
+
+Seldon reached out and touched his sleeve. “Still, I have an idea.” 
+
+Hummin stared at him with a faint narrowing of eyes that might have belied 
+surprise— or suspicion. “When did you get the idea? Just now?” 
+
+“No. It’s been buzzing in my head for a few days before I went Upperside. That 
+little experience eclipsed it for a while, but asking about the library reminded me of it.” 
+
+Hummin seated himself again. “Tell me your idea-if it’s not something that’s 
+totally marinated in mathematics.” 
+
+“No mathematics at all. It’s just that reading history in the library reminded me 
+that Galactic society was less complicated in the past. Twelve thousand years ago, when 
+the Empire was on the way to being established, the Galaxy contained only about ten 
+million inhabited worlds. Twenty thousand years ago, the pre-imperial kingdoms 
+included only about ten thousand worlds altogether. Still deeper in the past, who knows 
+how society shrinks down? Perhaps even to a single world as in the legends you yourself 
+once mentioned, Hummin.” 
+
+Hummin said, “And you think you might be able to work out psychohistory if you 
+dealt with a much simpler Galactic society?” 
+
+“Yes, it seems to me that I might be able to do so.” 
+
+“Then too, “ said Dors with sudden enthusiasm, “suppose you work out 
+psychohistory for a smaller society of the past and suppose you can make predictions 
+from a study of the pre-imperial situation as to what might happen a thousand years after 
+the formation of the Empire-you could then check the actual situation at that time and see 
+how near the mark you were.” 
+
+Hummin said coldly, “Considering that you would know in advance the situation 
+of the year 1, 000 of the Galactic Era, it would scarcely be a fair test. You would be 
+unconsciously swayed by your prior knowledge and you would be bound to choose 
+values for your equation in such a way as to give you what you would know to be the 
+solution.” 
+
+“I don’t think so, “ said Dors. “We don’t know the situation in 1, 000 G.E. very 
+well and we would have to dig. After all, that was eleven millennia ago.” 
+
+Seldon’ s face turned into a picture of dismay. “What do you mean we don’t know 
+the situation in 1, 000 G.E. very well? There were computers then, weren’t there, Dors?” 
+
+
+
+“Of course.” 
+
+“And memory storage units and recordings of ear and eye? We should have all the 
+records of 1, 000 G.E. as we have of the present year of 12, 020 G.E.” 
+
+“In theory, yes, but in actual practice- Well, you know, Hari, it’s what you keep 
+saying. It’s possible to have full records of 1, 000 G.E., but it’s not practical to expect to 
+have it.” 
+
+“Yes, but what I keep saying, Dors, refers to mathematical demonstrations. I don’t 
+see the applications to historical records.” 
+
+Dors said defensively, “Records don’t last forever, Hari. Memory banks can be 
+destroyed or defaced as a result of conflict or can simply deteriorate with time. Any 
+memory bit, any record that is not referred to for a long time, eventually drowns in 
+accumulated noise. They say that fully one third of the records in the Imperial Library are 
+simply gibberish, but, of course, custom will not allow those records to be removed. 
+
+Other libraries are less tradition bound. In the Streeling University library, we discard 
+worthless items every ten years. 
+
+“Naturally, records frequently referred to and frequently duplicated on various 
+worlds and in various libraries-governmental and private remain clear enough for 
+thousands of years, so that many of the essential points of Galactic history remain known 
+even if they took place in pre-imperial times. However, the farther back you go, the less 
+there is preserved.” 
+
+“I can’t believe that, “ said Seldon. “I should think that new copies would be 
+made of any record in danger of withering. How could you let knowledge disappear?” 
+
+“Undesired knowledge is useless knowledge, “ said Dors. “Can you imagine all 
+the time, effort, and energy expended in a continual refurbishing of unused data? And 
+that wastage would grow steadily more extreme with time.” 
+
+“Surely, you would have to allow for the fact that someone at some time might 
+need the data being so carelessly disposed of.” 
+
+“A particular item might be wanted once in a thousand years. To save it all just in 
+case of such a need isn’t cost-effective. Even in science. You spoke of the primitive 
+equations of gravitation and say it is primitive because its discovery is lost in the mists of 
+antiquity. Why should that be? Didn’t you mathematicians and scientists save all data, all 
+information, back and back to the misty primeval time when those equations were 
+discovered?” 
+
+Seldon groaned and made no attempt to answer. He said, “Well, Hummin, so 
+much for my idea. As we look back into the past and as society grows smaller, a useful 
+psychohistory becomes more likely. But knowledge dwindles even more rapidly than 
+size, so psychohistory becomes less likely— and the less outweighs the more. “ 
+
+“To be sure, there is the Mycogen Sector, “ said Dors, musing. 
+
+Hummin looked up quickly. “So there is and that would be the perfect place to put 
+Seldon. I should have thought of it myself.” 
+
+“Mycogen Sector, “ repeated Hari, looking from one to the other. “What and 
+where is Mycogen Sector?” 
+
+“Hari, please, I’ll tell you later. Right now, I have preparations to make. You’ll 
+leave tonight.” 
+
+
+33 , 
+
+
+
+Dors had urged Seldon to sleep a bit. They would be leaving halfway between 
+lights out and lights on, under cover of “night, “ while the rest of the University slept. She 
+insisted he could still use a little rest. 
+
+“And have you sleep on the floor again?” Seldon asked. 
+
+She shrugged. “The bed will only hold one and if we both try to crowd into it, 
+neither of us will get much sleep.” 
+
+He looked at her hungrily for a moment and said, “Then I’ll sleep on the floor this 
+
+time.” 
+
+“No, you won’t. I wasn’t the one who lay in a coma in the sleet.” 
+
+As it happened, neither slept. Though they darkened the room and though the 
+perpetual hum of Trantor was only a drowsy sound in the relatively quiet confines of the 
+University, Seldon found that he had to talk. 
+
+He said, “I’ve been so much trouble to you, Dors, here at the University. I’ve 
+even been keeping you from your work. Still, I’m sorry I’ll have to leave you.” 
+
+Dors said, “You won’t leave me. I’m coming with you. Hummin is arranging a 
+leave of absence for me.” 
+
+Seldon said, dismayed, “I can’t ask you to do that.” 
+
+“You’re not. Hummin s asking it. I must guard you. After all, I faded in 
+connection with Upperside and should make up for it.” 
+
+“I told you. Please don’t feel guilty about that. -Still, I must admit I would feel 
+more comfortable with you at my side. If I could only be sure I wasn’t interfering with 
+your life ...” 
+
+Dors said softly, “You’re not, Hari. Please go to sleep.” 
+
+Seldon lay silent for a while, then whispered, “Are you sure Hummin can really 
+arrange everything, Dors?” 
+
+Dors said, “He’s a remarkable man. He’s got influence here at the University and 
+everywhere else, I think. If he says he can arrange for an indefinite leave for me, I’m sure 
+he can. He is a moat persuasive man.” 
+
+I know, “ said Seldon. “Sometimes I wonder what he really wants of me.” 
+
+“fit he says, “ said Dors. “He’s a man of strong and idealistic ideas and dreams.” 
+
+“You sound as though you know him well, Dors.” 
+
+“Oh yes, I know him well.” 
+
+“Intimately?” 
+
+Dors made an odd noise. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Hari, but, assuming 
+the most insolent interpretation-No, I don’t know him intimately. What business would 
+that be of yours any-way?” 
+
+“I’m sorry., said Seldon. “I just didn’t want, inadvertently, to be invading 
+someone else’s— ” 
+
+“Property? That’s even more insulting. I think you had better go to sleep.” 
+
+“I’m sorry again, Dors, but I can’t sleep. Let me at least change the subject. You 
+haven’t explained what the Mycogen Sector is. Why will it be good for me to go there? 
+What’s it like?” 
+
+“It’s a small sector with a population of only about two million if I remember 
+correctly. The thing is that the Mycogenians cling rightly to a set of traditions about early 
+history and are supposed to have very ancient records not available to anyone else. It’s 
+
+
+
+just possible they would be of more use to you in your attempted examination of pre- 
+imperial times than orthodox historians might be. All our talk about early history brought 
+the sector to mind.” 
+
+“Have you ever seen their records?” 
+
+“No. I don’t know anyone who has.” 
+
+“Can you be sure that the records really exist, then?” 
+
+“Actually, I can’t say. The assumption among non-Mycogenians is that they’re a 
+bunch of madcaps, but that may be quite unfair. They certainly ray they have records, so 
+perhaps they do. In any case, we would be out of sight there. The Mycogenians keep 
+strictly to themselves, —and now please do go to sleep.” 
+
+And somehow Seldon finally did. 
+
+34. 
+
+Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili left the University grounds at 0300. Seldon 
+realized that Dors had to be the leader. She knew Trantor better than he did-two years 
+better. She was obviously a close friend of Hummin (how close? the question kept 
+nagging at him) and she understood his instructions. 
+
+Both she and Seldon were swathed in light swirling docks with tight-fitting hoods. 
+The style had been a short-lived clothing fad at the University (and among young 
+intellectuals, generally) some years back and though right now it might provoke laughter, 
+it had the saving grace of covering them well and of making them unrecognizable-at least 
+at a cursory glance. 
+
+Hummin had said, “There’s a possibility that the event Upperside was completely 
+innocent and that there are no agents after you, Seldon, but lets he prepared for the 
+worst.” 
+
+Seldon had asked anxiously, “Won’t you come with us?” 
+
+“I would like to, “ said Hummin, “but I must limit my absence from work if I am 
+not to become a target myself. You understand?” 
+
+Seldon sighed. He understood. 
+
+They entered an Expressway car and found a seat as far as possible from the few 
+who had already boarded. (Seldom wondered why anyone should be on the Expressways 
+at three in the morning — and then thought that it was lucky some were or he and Dors 
+would be entirely too conspicuous.) 
+
+Seldon fell to watching the endless panorama that passed in review as the equally 
+endless line of coaches moved along the endless monorail on an endless electromagnetic 
+field. 
+
+The Expressway passed row upon row of dwelling units, few of them very tall, 
+but some, for all he knew, very deep. Still, if tens of millions of square kilometers formed 
+an urbanized total, even forty billion people would not require very tall structures or very 
+closely packed ones. They did pass open areas, in most of which crops seemed to be 
+growing— but some of which were clearly parklike. And there were numerous structures 
+whose nature he couldn’t guess. Factories? Office buildings? Who knew? One large 
+featureless cylinder struck him as though it might be a water tank. After all, Trantor had 
+to have a fresh water supply. Did they sluice rain from Upperside, filter and treat it, then 
+store it? It seemed inevitable that they should. 
+
+
+
+Seldon did not have very long to study the view, however. 
+
+Dors muttered, “This is about where we should be getting off.” She stood up and 
+her strong fingers gripped his arm. 
+
+They were off the Expressway now, standing on solid flooring while Dors studied 
+the directional signs. 
+
+The signs were unobtrusive and there were many of them. Seldon’s heart sank. 
+Most of them were in pictographs and initials, which were undoubtedly understandable to 
+native Trantorians, but which were alien to him . 
+
+“This way, “ said Dors. 
+
+“Which way? How do you know?” 
+
+“See that? Two wings and an arrow.” 
+
+“Two wings? Oh.” He had thought of it as an upside-down “w, “ wide and 
+shallow, but he could see where it might be the stylized wings of a bird. 
+
+“Why don’t they use words?” he said sullenly. 
+
+“Because words vary from world to world. What an ‘air-jet’ is here could be a 
+‘soar’ on Cinna or a ‘swoop’ on other worlds. The two wings and an arrow are a Galactic 
+symbol for an sir vessel and the symbol is understood everywhere. -Don’t you use them 
+on Helicon?” 
+
+“Not much. Helicon is a fairly homogeneous world, culturally speaking, and we 
+tend to cling to our private ways firmly because we’re overshadowed by our neighbours.” 
+
+“See?” said Dors. “There’s where your psychohistory might come in. You could 
+show that even with different dialects the use of set symbols, Galaxy-wide, is a unifying 
+force.” 
+
+“That won’t help.” He was following her through empty dim alley ways and part 
+of his mind wondered what the crime rate might be on Trantor and whether this was a 
+high-crime area “You can have a billion rules, each covering a single phenomenon, and 
+you can derive no generalizations from that. That’s what one means when one says that a 
+system might be interpreted only by a model as complex as itself. -Dors, are we heading 
+for an air-jet?” 
+
+She stopped and turned to look at him with an amused frown. “If we’re following 
+the symbols for air-jets, do you suppose we’re trying to reach a golf course? -Are you 
+afraid of air-jets in the way so many Trantorians are?” 
+
+“No no. We 9y freely on Helicon and I make use of air-jets frequently. It’s just 
+that when Hummin took me to the University, he avoided commercial air travel because 
+he thought we would leave too clear a trail.” 
+
+“That’s because they knew where you were to begin with, Hari, and were after 
+you already. Right now, it may be that they don’t know where you are and we’re using an 
+obscure port and a private airjet.” 
+
+“And who’ll be doing the flying?” 
+
+“A friend of Hummin’s, I presume.” 
+
+“Can he be trusted, do you suppose?” 
+
+“If he’s a friend of Hummin’s, he surely can.” 
+
+“You certainly think highly of Hummin, “ said Seldon with a twinge of 
+discontent. 
+
+“With reason, “ said Dors with no attempt at coyness. “He’s the best. 
+
+Seldon’s discontent did not dwindle. 
+
+
+
+“There’s the air-jet, “ she said. 
+
+It was a small one with oddly shaped wings. Standing beside it was a small man, 
+dressed in the usual glaring Trantorian colors. 
+
+Dors said, “We’re psycho.” 
+
+The pilot said, “And I’m history.” 
+
+They followed him into the air-jet and Seldon said, “Whose idea were the 
+passwords?”' 
+
+“Hummin’s, “ said Dors. 
+
+Seldon snorted. “Somehow I didn’t think Hummin would have a sense of humor. 
+He’s so solemn.” 
+
+Dors smiled. 
+
+Sunmaster 
+
+
+SUNMASTER FOURTEEN- ... A leader of the Mycogen Sector of ancient 
+Trantor ... As is true of all the leaders of this ingrown sector, little is known of him. That 
+he plays any role at all in history is due entirely to his interrelationship with Hari Seldon 
+in the course of The Flight . . . 
+
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+35 . 
+
+There were just two seats behind the compact pilot compartment and when Seldon 
+sat down on padding that gave slowly beneath him meshed fabric came forward to 
+encircle his legs, waist, and chest and a hood came down over his forehead and ears. He 
+felt imprisoned and when he turned to his left with difficulty — and only slightly-he 
+could see that Dors was similarly enclosed. 
+
+The pilot took his own seat and checked the controls. Then he said, “I’m Endor 
+Levanian, at your service. You’re enmeshed because there will be a considerable 
+acceleration at liftoff. Once we’re in the open and flying, you’ll be released. You needn’t 
+tell me your names. It’s none of my business.” 
+
+He turned in his seat and smiled at them out of a gnomelike face that wrinkled as 
+his lips spread outward. “Any psychological difficulties, youngsters?” 
+
+Dors said lightly, “I’m an Outworlder and I’m used to flying.” 
+
+“That is also true for myself, “ said Seldon with a bit of hauteur. 
+
+“Excellent, youngsters. Of course, this isn’t your ordinary air-jet and you may not 
+have done any night flying, but I’ll count on you to bear up.’ 
+
+He was enmeshed too, but Seldon could see that his arms were entirely free. 
+
+A dull hum sounded inside the jet, growing in intensity and rising in pitch. 
+Without actually becoming unpleasant, it threatened to do so and Seldon made a gesture 
+as though to shake his head and get the sound out of his ears, but the attempt to do so 
+merely seemed to stiffen the hold of the head-mesh. 
+
+The jet then sprang (it was the only verb Seldon could find to describe the event) 
+into the sir and he found himself pushed hard against the back and bottom of his seat. 
+
+Through the windshield in front of the pilot, Seldon saw, with a twinge of horror, 
+the flat rise of a wall— and then a round opening appear in that wall. It was similar to the 
+
+
+
+hole into which the sir-taxi had plunged the day he and Hummin had left the Imperial 
+Sector, but though this one was large enough for the body of the jet, it certainly did not 
+leave room for the wings. 
+
+Seldon’s head turned as far to the right as he could manage and did so just in time 
+to see the wing on his side wither and collapse. 
+
+The jet plunged into the opening and was seized by the electromagnetic field and 
+hurtled along a lighted runnel. The acceleration was constant and there were occasional 
+clicking noises that Seldon imagined might be the passing of individual magnets. 
+
+And then, in less than ten minutes, the jet was spewed out into the atmosphere, 
+headlong into the sudden pervasive darkness of night. 
+
+The jet decelerated as it passed beyond the electromagnetic field and Seldon felt 
+himself flung against the mesh and plastered there for a few breathless moments. 
+
+Then the pressure ceased and the mesh disappeared altogether. 
+
+“How are you, youngsters?” came the cheerful voice of the pilot. 
+
+“I’m not sure, “ said Seldon. He turned to Dors. “Are you all right?” 
+
+“Certainly, “ she answered. “I think Mr. Levanian was putting us through his 
+paces to see if we were really Outworlders. Is that so, Mr. Levanian?” 
+
+“Some people like excitement, “ said Levanian. “Do you?” 
+
+“Within limits, “ said Dors. 
+
+Then Seldon added approvingly, “As any reasonable person would admit.” 
+
+Seldon went on. “It might have seemed less humorous to you, sir, if you had 
+ripped the wings off the jet.” 
+
+“Impossible, sir. I told you this is not your ordinary air-jet. The wings are 
+thoroughly computerized. They change their length, width, curvature, and overall shape 
+to match the speed of the jet, the speed and direction of the wind, the temperature, and 
+half a dozen other variables. The wings wouldn’t tear off unless the jet itself was 
+subjected to stresses that would splinter it.” 
+
+There was a spatter against Seldon’s window. He said, “It’s raining.’ 
+
+“It often is, “ said the pilot. 
+
+Seldon peered out the window. On Helicon or on any other world, there would 
+have been lights visible-the illuminated works of man. Only on Trantor would it be dark. 
+
+-Well, not entirely. At one point he saw the flash of a beacon light. Perhaps the 
+higher reaches of Upperside had warning lights. 
+
+As usual, Dors took note of Seldon’s uneasiness. Parting his hand, she said, “I’m 
+sure the pilot knows what he’s doing, Hari.” 
+
+“I’ll try to be sure of it, too, Dors, but I wish he’d share some of that knowledge 
+with us, “ Seldon said in a voice loud enough to be overheard. 
+
+“I don’t mind sharing, “ said the pilot. “To begin with, we’re heading up and we’ll 
+be above the cloud deck in a few minutes. Then there won’t be any rain and we’ll even 
+see the stars.” 
+
+He had timed the remark beautifully, for a few stars began to glitter through the 
+feathery cloud remnants and then all the rest sprang into brightness as the pilot flicked off 
+the lights inside the cabin. Only the dim illumination of his own instrument panel 
+remained to compete and outside the window the sky sparkled brightly. 
+
+Dors said, “That’s the first time in over two years that I’ve seen the stars. Aren’t 
+they marvelous? They’re so bright — and there are so many of them.” 
+
+
+
+The pilot said, “Trantor is nearer the center of the Galaxy than most of the 
+Outworlds.” 
+
+Since Helicon was in a sparse comer of the Galaxy and its star field was dim and 
+unimpressive, Seldon found himself speechless. 
+
+Dors said, “How quiet this flight has become.” 
+
+“So it is, “ said Seldon. “What powers the jet, Mr. Levanian?” 
+
+“A microfusion motor and a thin stream of hot gas.” 
+
+“I didn’t know we had working microfusion air-jets. They talk about it, but—” 
+
+“There are a few small ones like this. So far they exist only on Trantor and are 
+used entirely by high government officials.” 
+
+Seldon said, “The fees for such travel must come high.” 
+
+“Very high, sir.” 
+
+“How much is Mr. Hummin being charged, then?” 
+
+“There’s no charge for this flight. Mr. Hummin is a good friend of the company 
+who owns these jets.” 
+
+Seldon grunted. Then he asked, “Why aren’t there more of these microfusion air- 
+
+jets?” 
+
+“Too expensive for one thing, sir. Those that exist fulfill all the demand.” 
+
+“You could create more demand with larger jets.” 
+
+“Maybe so, but the company has never managed to make microfusion engines 
+strong enough for large air-jets.” 
+
+Seldon thought of Hummin’ s complaint that technological innovation had 
+declined to a low level. “Decadent, “ he murmured. 
+
+“What., said Dors. 
+
+“Nothing, “ said Seldon. “ I was just thinking of something Hummin once said to 
+
+me.” 
+
+He looked out at the stars and said, “Are we moving westward, Mr. Caveman?” 
+
+“Yes, we are. How did you know?” 
+
+“Because I thought that we would see the dawn by now if we were heading east to 
+meet it.” 
+
+But dawn, pursuing the planet, finally caught up with them and sunlight— real- 
+sunlight brightened the cabin walls. It didn’t last long, however, for the jet curved 
+downward and into the clouds. Blue and gold vanished and were replaced by dingy gray 
+and both Seldon and Dors emitted disappointed cries at being deprived of even a few 
+more moments of true sunlight. 
+
+When they sank beneath the clouds, Upperside was immediately below them and 
+its surface-at least at this spot-was a rolling mixture of wooded grottos and intervening 
+grassland. It was the sort of thing Clowzia had told Seldon existed on Upperside. 
+
+Again there was little time for observation, however. An opening appeared below 
+them, rimmed by lettering that spelled MYCOGEN 
+
+They plunged in. 
+
+36 . 
+
+They landed at a jetport that seemed deserted to Seldon’ s wondering eyes. The 
+pilot, having completed his task, shook hands with both Hari and Dors and took his jet up 
+
+
+
+into the sir with a rush, plunging it into an opening that appeared for his benefit. 
+
+There seemed, then, nothing to do but wait. There were benches that could seat 
+perhaps a hundred people, but Seldon and Dors Venabib were the only two people 
+around. The port was rectangular, surrounded by walls in which there must be many 
+tunnels that could open to receive or deliver jets, but there were no jets present after their 
+own had departed and none arrived while they waited. 
+
+There were no people arriving or any indications of habitation; the very life hum 
+of Trantor was muted. 
+
+Seldon felt this aloneness to be oppressive. He turned to Dors and said, “What is 
+it that we must do here? Have you any idea?” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “Hummin told me we would be met by Sunmaster Fourteen. 
+I don’t know anything beyond that.” 
+
+“Sunmaster Fourteen? What would that be?” 
+
+“A human being, I presume. From the name I can’t be certain whether it would be 
+a man or a woman.” 
+
+“An odd name.” 
+
+“Oddity is in the mind of the receiver. I am sometimes taken to be a man by those 
+who have never met me.” 
+
+“What fools they must be, “ said Seldon, smiling. 
+
+“Not at all. Judging from my name, they are justified. I’m told it is a popular 
+masculine name on various worlds.” 
+
+“I’ve never encountered it before.” 
+
+“That’s because you aren’t much of a Galactic traveler. The name ‘Hari” is 
+common enough everywhere, although I once knew a woman named ‘Hare, ‘ pronounced 
+like your name but spelled with an ‘e.’ In Mycogen, as I recall, particular names are 
+confined to families — and numbered.” 
+
+“But Sunmaster seems so unrestrained a name.” 
+
+“What’s a little braggadocio? Back on Cinna, ‘Dons’ is from an Old local 
+expression meaning ‘spring gift.’“ 
+
+“Because you were born in the spring?” 
+
+“No. I first saw the light of day at the height of Cinna’ s summer, but the name 
+struck my people as pleasant regardless of its traditional— and largely forgotten-meaning.” 
+
+“In that case, perhaps Sunmaster — ” 
+
+And a deep, severe voice said, “That is my name, tribesman.” 
+
+Seldon, startled, looked to his left. An open ground-car had somehow drawn 
+close. It was boxy and archaic, looking almost like a delivery wagon. In it, at the controls, 
+was a tall old man who looked vigorous despite his age. With stately majesty, he got out 
+of the ground-car. 
+
+He wore a long white gown with voluminous sleeves, pinched in at the wrists. 
+Beneath the gown were soft sandals from which the big toe protruded, while his head, 
+beautifully shaped, was completely hairless. He regarded the two calmly with his deep 
+blue eyes. 
+
+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 sir 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 China.” 
+
+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 guildess. -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, S unmaster— 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 thatch 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 Seldom” 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.” 
+
+
+
+37 . 
+
+
+“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. 
+
+Don 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 whines tart 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.” 
+
+“We seem to be passing through a residential area. There are no signs of business 
+establishments, industrial areas—” 
+
+“We are a farming community entirely. Where are you from that you do not know 
+
+this?” 
+
+“You know I am an Outworlder, “ Seldon said stiffly. “I have been on Trantor for 
+only two months.” 
+
+“Even so.” 
+
+“But if you are a farming community, Sunmaster, how is it that we have passed 
+no farms either?” 
+
+“On lower levels, “ said Sunmaster briefly. 
+
+“Is Mycogen on this level entirely residential, then?” 
+
+“And on a few others. We are what you see. Every Brother and his family lives in 
+equivalent quarters; every cohort in its own equivalent community; all have the same 
+ground-can and all Brothers drive their own. There are no servants and none are at ease 
+through the labor of others. None may glory over another.” 
+
+Seldon lifted his shielded eyebrows at Dors and said, “But some of the people 
+wear white, while some wear gray.” 
+
+“That is because some of the people are Brothers and some are Sisters.” 
+
+“And we?” 
+
+“You are a tribesman and a guest. You and your”-he paused and then said— 
+
+
+
+’’companion will not be bound by all aspects of Mycogenian life. Nevertheless, you will 
+wear a white gown and your companion will wear a gray one and you will live in special 
+guest quarters like our own.” 
+
+“Equality for all seems a pleasant ideal, but what happens as your numbers 
+increase? Is the pie, then, cut into smaller pieces?” 
+
+“There is no increase in numbers. That would necessitate an increase in area, 
+which the surrounding tribesmen would not allow, or a change for the worse in our way 
+of life.” 
+
+“But if-., began Seldon. 
+
+Sunmaster cut him off. “It is enough, Tribesman Seldon. As I warned you, I am 
+not compelled to answer. Our task, which we have promised our friend Tribesman 
+Hummin, is to keep you secure as long as you do not violate our way of life. That we will 
+do, but there it ends. Curiosity is permitted, but it wears out our patience quickly if 
+persisted in.” 
+
+Something about his tone allowed no more to be said and Seldon chafed. 
+
+Hummin, for all his help, had clearly mis-stressed the matter. 
+
+It was not security that Seldon sought. At least, not security alone. He needed 
+information too and without that he could not and would not stay here. 
+
+38 . 
+
+Seldon looked with some distress at their quarters. It had a small but individual 
+kitchen and a small but individual bathroom. There were two narrow beds, two clothes 
+closets, a table, and two chairs. In short there was everything that was necessary for two 
+people who were willing to live under cramped conditions. 
+
+“We had an individual kitchen and bathroom at Cinna, “ said Dors with an air of 
+resignation. 
+
+“Not I, “ said Seldon. “Helicon may be a small world, but I lived in a modem city. 
+Community kitchens and bathrooms. -What a waste this is. You might expect it in a 
+hotel, where one is compelled to make a temporary stay, but if the whole sector is like 
+this, imagine the enormous number and duplications of kitchens and bathrooms.” 
+
+“Part of the egalitarianism, I suppose, “ said Dors. “No fighting for favored stalls 
+or for faster service. The same for everyone.” 
+
+“No privacy either. Not that I mind terribly, Dors, but you might and I don’t want 
+to give the appearance of taking advantage. We ought to make it clear to them that we 
+must have separate rooms— adjoining but separate.” 
+
+Dors said, “I’m sure it won’t work. Space is at a premium and I think they are 
+amazed by their own generosity in giving us this much. We’ll just make do, Hari. We’re 
+each old enough to manage. I’m not a blushing maiden and you’ll never convince me that 
+you’re a callow youth.” 
+
+“You wouldn’t be here, were it not for me.” 
+
+“What of it? It’s an adventure.” 
+
+“All right, then. Which bed will you take? Why don’t you take the one nearer the 
+bathroom?” He sat down on the other. “There’s something else that bothers me. As long 
+as we’re here, we’re tribespeople, you and I, as is even Hummin. We’re of the other 
+tribes, not their own cohorts, and most things are none of our business, —but most things 
+
+
+
+are my business. That’s what I’ve come here for. I want to know some of the things they 
+know.” 
+
+“Or think they know, “ said Dors with a historian’s skepticism. “I understand they 
+have legends that are supposed to date back to primordial times, but I can’t believe they 
+can be taken seriously.” 
+
+“We can’t know that until we find out what those legends are. Are there no 
+outside records of them?” 
+
+“Not that I know of. These people are terribly ingrown. They’re almost psychotic 
+in their inward clinging. That Hummin can break down their barriers somewhat and even 
+get them to take us in is remarkable-really remarkable.” 
+
+Seldon brooded. “There has to be an opening somewhere. Sunmaster was 
+surprised— angry, in fact-that I didn’t know Mycogen was an agricultural community. 
+
+That seems to be something they don’t want kept a secret.” 
+
+“The point is, it isn’t a secret. ‘Mycogen’ is supposed to be from archaic words 
+meaning ‘yeast producer.’ At least, that’s what I’ve been told. I’m not a paleolinguist. In 
+any case, they culture all varieties of microfood-yeast, of course, along with algae, 
+bacteria, multicellular fungi, and so on.” 
+
+“Thai s not uncommon, “ said Seldon. “Most worlds have this microculture. We 
+have some even on Helicon.” 
+
+“Not like Mycogen. It’s their specialty. They use methods as archaic as the name 
+of their section-secret fertilizing formulas, secret environmental influences. Who knows 
+what? All is secret.” 
+
+“Ingrown” 
+
+“With a vengeance. What it amounts to is that they produce protein and subtle 
+flavoring, so that their microfood isn’t like any other in the world. They keep the volume 
+comparatively low and the price is skyhigh. I’ve never tasted any and I’m sure you 
+haven’t, but it sells in great quantities to the Imperial bureaucracy and to the upper 
+classes on other worlds. Mycogen depends on such sales for its economic health, so they 
+want everyone to know that they are the source of this valuable food. That, at least, is no 
+secret.’. 
+
+“Mycogen must be rich, then.” 
+
+“They’re not poor, but I suspect that it’s not wealth they’re after. It’s protection. 
+The Imperial government protects them because, without them, there wouldn’t be these 
+microfoods that add the subtlest flavors, the tangiest spices, to every dish. That means 
+that 
+
+Mycogen can maintain its odd way of life and be haughty toward its neighbours, 
+who probably find them insupportable.” 
+
+Dors looked about. “They live an austere life. There’s no holovision, I notice, and 
+no book-films.” 
+
+“I noticed one in the closet up on the shelf.” Seldon reached for it, stared at the 
+label, and then said in clear disgust, “A cookbook.” 
+
+Dors held out her hand for it and manipulated the keys. It took a while, for the 
+arrangement was not quite orthodox, but she finally managed to light the screen and 
+inspect the pages. She said, “There are a few recipes, but for the most part this seems to 
+consist of philosophical essays on gastronomy.” 
+
+She shut it off and turned it round and about. “It seems to be a single unit. I don’t 
+
+
+
+see how one would eject the microcard and insert another. A one-book scanner. Now 
+that’s a waste.” 
+
+“Maybe they think this one book-film is all anyone needs.” He reached toward the 
+end table that was between the two beds and picked up another object. “This could be a 
+speaker, except that there’s no screen.” 
+
+“Perhaps they consider the voice sufficient.” 
+
+“How does it work, I wonder?” Seldon lifted it and looked at it from different 
+sides. “Did you ever see anything like this?” 
+
+“In a museum once-if this is the same thing. Mycogen seems to keep itself 
+deliberately archaic. I suppose they consider that another way of separating themselves 
+from the so-called tribesmen that surround them in overwhelming numbers. Their 
+archaism and odd customs make them indigestible, so to speak. There’s a kind of 
+perverse logic to all that.” 
+
+Seldon, still playing with the device, said, “Whoops! It went on. Or something 
+went on. But I don’t hear anything.” 
+
+Dors frowned and picked up a small felt-lined cylinder that remained behind on 
+the end table. She put it to her ear. “There’s a voice coming out of this, “ she said. “Here, 
+try it.” She handed it to him. 
+
+Seldon did so and said, “Ouch! It clips on.” He listened and said, “Yes, it hurt my 
+ear. You can hear me, I take it. -Yes, this is our room. No, I don’t know its number. Dors, 
+have you any idea of the number?” 
+
+Dors said, “There’s a number on the speaker. Maybe that will do.” 
+
+“Maybe, “ said Seldon doubtfully. Then he said into the speaker, “The number on 
+this device is 6LT-3648A. Will that do? -Well, where do I find out how to use this device 
+properly and how to use the kitchen, for that matter? -What do you mean, ‘It all works 
+the usual way?’ That doesn’t do me any good, wee here, I’m a ... a tribesman, an 
+honored guest. I don’t know the usual way. -Yes, I’m sorry about my accent and I’m glad 
+you can recognize a tribesman when you hear one. -My name is Hari Seldon.” 
+
+There was a pause and Seldon looked up at Dors with a longsuffering expression 
+on his face. “He has to look me up. And I suppose he’ll tell me he can’t find me. -Oh, you 
+have me? Good! In that case, can you give me the information? -Yes. -Yes. -Yes. —and 
+how can I call someone outside Mycogen? -Oh, then what about contacting Sunmaster 
+Fourteen, for instance? -Well, his assistant then, his aide, whatever? -Uh-huh. -Thank 
+you.” 
+
+He put the speaker down, unhooked the hearing device from his ear with a little 
+difficulty, turned the whole thing off, and said, “They’ll arrange to have someone show 
+us anything we need to know, but he can’t promise when that might be. You can’t call 
+outside Mycogen-not on this thing anyway— so we couldn’t get Hummin if we needed 
+him. And if I want Sunmaster Fourteen, I’ve got to go through a tremendous rigmarole. 
+This may be an egalitarian society, but there seem to be exceptions that I bet no one will 
+openly admit.” 
+
+He looked at his watch. “In any case, Dors, I’m not going to view a cookbook and 
+still less am I going to view learned essays. My watch is still telling University time, so I 
+don’t know if it’s officially bedtime and at the moment I don’t care. We’ve been awake 
+most of the night and I would like to sleep.” 
+
+“That’s all right with me. I’m tired too.” 
+
+
+
+“Thanks. And whenever a new day starts after we’ve caught up on our sleep, I’m 
+going to ask for a tour of their microfood plantations.” 
+
+Dors looked startled. “Are you interested?” 
+
+“Not really, but if that’s the one thing they’re proud of, they should be willing to 
+talk about it and once I get them into a talking mood then, by exerting all my charm, I 
+may get them to talk about their legends too. Personally, I think that’s a clever strategy.” 
+
+“I hope so, “ said Dors dubiously, “but I think that the Mycogenians will not be so 
+easily trapped.” 
+
+“We’ll see, “ said Seldon grimly. “I mean to get those legends.” 
+
+39 , 
+
+The next morning found Hari using the calling device again. He was angry 
+because, for one thing, he was hungry. 
+
+His attempt to reach Sunmaster Fourteen was deflected by someone who insisted 
+that Sunmaster could not be disturbed. 
+
+“Why not?” Seldon had asked waspishly. 
+
+“Obviously, there is no need to answer that question, “ came back a cold voice. 
+
+“We were not brought here to be prisoners, “ said Seldon with equal coldness. 
+“Nor to starve.” 
+
+“I’m sure you have a kitchen and ample supplies of food.” 
+
+“Yes, we do, “ said Seldon. “And I do not know how to use the kitchen devices, 
+nor do I know how to prepare the food. Do you eat it raw, fry it, boil it, roast it?” 
+
+“I can’t believe you are ignorant in such matters.” 
+
+Dors, who had been pacing up and down during this colloquy, reached for the 
+device and Seldon fended her off, whispering, “He’ll break the connection if a woman 
+tries to speak to him.” 
+
+Then, into the device, he said more firmly than ever, “What you believe or don’t 
+believe doesn’t matter to me in the least. You send someone here-someone who can do 
+something about our situation— or when I reach Sunmaster Fourteen, as I will eventually, 
+you will pay for this.” 
+
+Nevertheless, it was two hours before someone arrived (by which time Seldon 
+was in a state of savagery and Dors had grown rather desperate in her attempt to soothe 
+him). 
+
+The newcomer was a young man whose bald pate was slightly freckled and who 
+probably would have been a redhead otherwise. 
+
+He was bearing several pots and he seethed about to explain them when he 
+suddenly looked uneasy and turned his back on Seldon in alarm. “Tribesman, “ he said, 
+obviously agitated. “Your skincap is not well adjusted.” 
+
+Seldon, whose impatience had reached the breaking point, said, “That doesn’t 
+bother me.” 
+
+Dors, however, said, “Let me adjust it, Hari. It’s just a bit too high here on the left 
+
+side.” 
+
+Seldon then growled, “You can turn now, young man. What is your name?” 
+
+“I am Graycloud Five, “ said the Mycogenian uncertainly as he turned and looked 
+cautiously at Seldon. “I am a novitiate. I have brought a meal for you.” He hesitated. 
+
+
+
+“From my own kitchen, where my woman prepared it, tribesman.” 
+
+He put the pots down on the table and Seldon raised one lid and sniffed the 
+contents suspiciously. He looked up at Dors in surprise. “You know, it doesn’t smell 
+bad.” 
+
+Dors nodded. “You’re right. I can smell it too.” 
+
+Graycloud said, “It’s not as hot as it ought to be. It cooled off in transport. You 
+must have crockery and cutlery in your kitchen.” 
+
+Dors got what was needed, and after they had eaten, largely and a bit greedily, 
+Seldon felt civilized once more. 
+
+Dors, who realized that the young man would feel unhappy at being alone with a 
+woman and even unhappier if she spoke to him, found that, by default, it fell to her to 
+carry the pots and dishes into the kitchen and wash them-once she deciphered the controls 
+of the washing device. 
+
+Meanwhile, Seldon asked the local time and said, somewhat abashed, “You mean 
+it’s the middle of the night?” 
+
+“Indeed, tribesman, “ said Graycloud. “That’s why it took a while to satisfy your 
+
+need.” 
+
+Seldon understood suddenly why Sunmaster could not be disturbed and thought 
+of Graycloud’ s woman having to be awakened to prepare him a meal and felt his 
+conscience gnaw at him. “I’m sorry, “ he said. “We are only tribespeople and we didn’t 
+know how to use the kitchen or how to prepare the food. In the morning, could you have 
+someone arrive to instruct us properly?” 
+
+“The best I can do, tribesmen, “ said Graycloud placatingly, “is to have two 
+Sisters sent in. I ask your pardon for inconveniencing you with feminine presence, but it 
+is they who know these things.” 
+
+Dors, who had emerged from the kitchen, said (before remembering her place in 
+the masculine Mycogenian society), “That’s fine, Graycloud. We’d love to meet the 
+Sisters.” 
+
+Graycloud looked at her uneasily and fleetingly, but said nothing. 
+
+Seldon, convinced that the young Mycogenian would, on principle, refuse to have 
+heard what a woman said to him, repeated the remark. “That’s fine, Graycloud. We’d 
+love to meet the Sisters.” 
+
+His expression cleared at once. “I will have them here as soon as it is day.” 
+
+When Graycloud had left, Seldon said with some satisfaction, “The Sisters are 
+likely to be exactly what we need.” 
+
+“Indeed? And in what way, Hari?” asked Dors. 
+
+“Well, surely if we treat them as though they are human beings, they will be 
+grateful enough to speak of their legends.” 
+
+“If they know them, “ said Dors skeptically. “Somehow I have no faith that the 
+Mycogenians bother to educate their women very well.” 
+
+40 . 
+
+The Sisters arrived some six hours later after Seldon and Dors had slept some 
+more, hoping to readjust their biological clocks. 
+
+The Sisters entered the apartment shyly, almost on tiptoe. Their gowns (which, it 
+
+
+
+turned out, were termed “kirtles” in the Mycogenian dialect) were soft velvety gray, each 
+uniquely decorated by a subtle pattern of fine, darker gray webbing. The kirtles were not 
+entirely unattractive, but they were certainly most efficient at covering up any human 
+feature. 
+
+And, of course, their heads were bald and their faces were devoid of any 
+ornamentation. They darted speculative glances at the touch of blue at the comers of 
+Dors’s eyes and at the slight red stain at the comers of her lips. 
+
+For a few moments, Seldon wondered how one could be certain that the Sisters 
+were truly Sisters. 
+
+The answer came at once with the Sisters’ politely formal greetings. Both 
+twittered and chirped. Seldon, remembering the grave tones of Sunmaster and the 
+nervous baritone of Graycloud, suspected that women, in default of obvious sexual 
+identification, were forced to cultivate distinctive voices and social mannerisms. 
+
+-I’m Raindrop Forty-Three, “ twittered one, “and this is my younger sister.” 
+
+“Raindrop Forty-Five, “ chirped the other. “We’re very strong on ‘Raindrops’ in 
+our cohort.” She giggled. 
+
+“I am pleased to meet you both, “ said Dors gravely, “but now I must know how 
+to address you. I can’t just say ‘Raindrop, ‘ can I?” 
+
+“No, “ said Raindrop Forty-Three. “You must use the full name if we are both 
+
+here.” 
+
+Seldon said, “How about just Forty-Three and Forty-Five, ladies?” 
+
+They both stole a quick glance at him, but said not a word. 
+
+Dors said softly, “I’ll deal with them, Hari.” 
+
+Seldon stepped back. Presumably, they were single young women and, very 
+likely, they were not supposed to speak to men. The older one seemed the graver of the 
+two and was perhaps the more puritanical. It was hard to tell from a few words and a 
+quick glance, but he had the feeling and was willing to go by that. 
+
+Dors said, “The thing is, Sisters, that we tribespeople don’t know how to use the 
+kitchen.” 
+
+“You mean you can’t cook?” Raindrop Forty-Three looked shocked and 
+censorious. Raindrop Forty-Five smothered a laugh. (Seldon decided that his initial 
+estimate of the two was correct.) 
+
+Dors said, “I once had a kitchen of my own, but it wasn’t like this one and I don’t 
+know what the foods are or how to prepare them.” 
+
+“It’s really quite simple, “ said Raindrop Forty-Five. “We can show you.” 
+
+“We’ll make you a good nourishing lunch, “ said Raindrop Forty Three. “We’ll 
+make it for . . . both of you.” She hesitated before adding the final words. It clearly took 
+an effort to acknowledge the existence of a man. 
+
+“If you don’t mind, “ said Dors, “I would Eke to be in the kitchen with you and I 
+would appreciate it if you’d explain everything exactly. After all, Sisters, I can’t expect 
+you to come here three times a day to cook for us.” 
+
+“We will show you everything, “ said Raindrop Forty-Three, nodding her head 
+stiffly. “It may be difficult for a tribeswoman to learn, however. You wouldn’t have the . 
+
+. . feeling for it.” 
+
+“I shall try, “ said Dors with a pleasant smile. 
+
+They disappeared into the kitchen. Seldon stared after them and tried to work out 
+
+
+
+the strategy he intended to use. 
+
+Microfarm 
+
+
+MYCOGEN- . . . The microfarms of Mycogen are legendary, though they survive 
+today only in such oftused similes as “rich as the microfarms of Mycogen” or “tasty as 
+Mycogenian yeast.” Such encomiums tend to intensify with time, to be sure, but Hari 
+Seldon visited those microfarms in the course of The Flight and there are references in 
+his memoirs that would tend to support the popular opinion . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+41 . 
+
+“That was good.” said Seldon explosively. “It was considerably better than the 
+food Graycloud brought—” 
+
+Dors said reasonably, “You have to remember that Graycloud’ s woman had to 
+prepare it on short notice in the middle of the night.” She paused and said, “I wish they 
+would say 'wife.’ They make ‘woman’ sound like such an appanage, like ‘my house’ or 
+my robe.’ It is absolutely demeaning.” 
+
+“I know. It’s infuriating. But they might well make ‘wife’ sound like an appanage 
+as well. It’s the way they live and the Sisters don’t seem to mind. You and I aren’t going 
+to change it by lecturing. Anyway, did you see how the Sisters did it?” 
+
+“Yes, I did and they made everything seem very simple. I doubted I could 
+remember everything they did, but they insisted I wouldn’t have to. I could get away with 
+mere heating. I gathered the bread had some sort of microderivative added to it in the 
+baking that both raised the dough and lent it that crunchy consistency and warm flavor. 
+Just a hint of pepper, didn’t you think?” 
+
+“I couldn’t tell, but whatever it was, I didn’t get enough. And the soup. Did you 
+recognize any of the vegetables?” 
+
+“No.” 
+
+“And what was the sliced meat? Could you tell?” 
+
+“I don’t think it was sliced meat, actually. We did have a lamb dish back on Cinna 
+that it reminded me of.” 
+
+“It was certainly not lamb.” 
+
+“I said that I doubted it was meat at all. -I don’t think anyone outside Mycogen 
+eats like this either. Not even the Emperor, I’m sure. Whatever the Mycogenians sell is, 
+I’m willing to bet, near the bottom of the line. They save the best for themselves. We had 
+better not stay here too long, Hari. If we get used to eating like this, we’ll never be able to 
+acclimatize ourselves to the miserable stuff they have outside.” She laughed. 
+
+Seldon laughed too. He took another sip at the fruit juice, which tasted far more 
+tantalizing than any fruit juice he had ever sipped before, and said, “listen, when Hummin 
+took me to the University, we stopped at a roadside diner and had some food that was 
+heavily yeasted. It tasted like-No, never mind what it tasted like, but I wouldn’t have 
+thought it conceivable, then, that microfood could caste like this. I wish the Sisters were 
+still here. It would have been polite to thank them.” 
+
+“I think they were quite aware of how we would feel. I remarked on the 
+
+
+
+wonderful smell while everything was warming and they said, quire complacently, that it 
+would taste even better.” 
+
+“The older one said that, I imagine.” 
+
+“Yes. The younger one giggled, —and they’ll be back. They’re going to bring me 
+a kirtle, so that I can go out to see the shops with them. And they made it clear I would 
+have to wash my face if I was to be seen in public. They will show me where to buy some 
+good quality kirtles of my own and where I can buy ready-made meals of all kinds. All 
+I’ll have to do is heat them up. They explained that decent Sisters wouldn’t do that, but 
+would start from scratch. In fact, some of the meal they prepared for us was simply 
+heated and they apologized for that. They managed to imply, though, that tribespeople 
+couldn’t be expected to appreciate true artistry in cooking, so that simply heating 
+prepared food would do for us. -They seem to take it for granted, by the way, that I will 
+be doing all the shopping and cooking.” 
+
+“As we say at home, ‘When in Trantor, do as the Trantorians do.’ “ 
+
+“Yes, I was sure that would be your attitude in this case.” 
+
+“I’m only human, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“The usual excuse, “ said Dors with a small smile. 
+
+Seldon leaned back with a satisfactory well-filled feeling and said, “You’ve been 
+on Trantor for two years, Dors, so you might understand a few things that I don’t. Is it 
+your opinion that this odd social system the Mycogenians have is part of a 
+supernaturalistic view they have?” 
+
+“Supernaturalistic?” 
+
+“Yes. Would you have heard that this was so?” 
+
+“What do you mean by ‘supernaturalistic’?” 
+
+“The obvious. A belief in entities that are independent of natural law, that are not 
+bound by the conservation of energy, for instance, or by the existence of a constant of 
+action.” 
+
+“I see. You’re asking if Mycogen is a religious community.” 
+
+It was Seldon’s turn. “Religious?” 
+
+“Yes. It’s an archaic term, but we historians use it-our study is riddled with 
+archaic terms. ‘Religious’ is not precisely equivalent to ‘supernaturalistic, ‘ though it 
+contains richly supernaturalistic elements. I can’t answer your specific question, 
+however, because I’ve never made any special investigation of Mycogen. Still, from what 
+little I’ve seen of the place and from my knowledge of religions in history, I wouldn’t be 
+surprised if the Mycogenian society was religious in character.” 
+
+“In that case, would it surprise you if Mycogenian legends were also religious in 
+character?” 
+
+“No, it wouldn’t.” 
+
+“And therefore not based on historical matter?” 
+
+“That wouldn’t necessarily follow. The core of the legends might still be 
+authentically historic, allowing for distortion and supernaturalistic intermixture.” 
+
+“Ah, “ said Seldon and seemed to retire into his thoughts. 
+
+Finally Dors broke the silence that followed and said, “It’s not so uncommon, you 
+know. There is a considerable religious element on many worlds. It’s grown stronger in 
+the last few centuries as the Empire has grown more turbulent. On my world of Cinna, at 
+least a quarter of the population is tritheistic.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon was again painfully and regretfully conscious of his ignorance of history. 
+He said, “Were there times in past history when religion was more prominent than it is 
+today?” 
+
+“Certainly. In addition, there are new varieties springing up constantly. The 
+Mycogenian religion, whatever it might be, could be relatively new and may be restricted 
+to Mycogen itself. I couldn’t really tell without considerable study.” 
+
+“But now we get to the point of it, Dors. Is it your opinion that women are more 
+apt to be religious than men are?” 
+
+Dors Venabili raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure if we can assume anything as 
+simple as that.” She thought a bit. “I suspect that those elements of a population that have 
+a smaller stake in the material natural world are more apt to find solace in what you call 
+supernaturalism-the poor, the disinherited, the downtrodden. Insofar as supernaturalism 
+overlaps religion, they may also be more religious. There are obviously many exceptions 
+in both directions. Many of the downtrodden may lack religion; many of the rich, 
+powerful, and satisfied may possess it.” 
+
+“But in Mycogen, “ said Seldon, “where the women seem to be treated as 
+subhuman-would I be right in assuming they would be more religious than the men, more 
+involved in the legends that the society has been preserving? 
+
+“I wouldn’t risk my life on it, Hari, but I’d be willing to risk a week’s income on 
+it.” 
+
+“Good, “ said Seldon thoughtfully. 
+
+Dors smiled at him. “There’s a bit of your psychohistory, Hari. Rule number 47, 
+854: The downtrodden are more religious than the satisfied.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “Don’t joke about psychohistory, Dors. You know I’m not 
+looking for tiny rules but for vast generalizations and for means of manipulation. I don’t 
+want comparative religiosity as the result of a hundred specific rules. I want something 
+from which I can, after manipulation through some system of mathematicized logic, say, 
+‘Aha, this group of people will tend to be more religious than that group, provided that 
+the following criteria are met, and that, therefore, when humanity meets with these 
+stimuli, it will react with these responses.” 
+
+“How horrible, “ said Dors. “You are picturing human beings as simple 
+mechanical devices. Press this button and you will get that twitch.” 
+
+“No, because there will be many buttons pushing simultaneously to varying 
+degrees and eliciting so many responses of different sorts that overall the predictions of 
+the furore will be statistical in nature, so that the individual human being will remain a 
+free agent.” 
+
+“How can you know this?” 
+
+“I can’t, “ said Seldon. “At least, I don’t know it. I feel it to be so. It is what I 
+consider to be the way things ought to be. If I can find the axioms, the fundamental Laws 
+of Humanics, so to speak, and the necessary mathematical treatment, then I will have my 
+psychohistory. I have proved that, in theory, this is possible—” 
+
+“But impractical, right?” 
+
+“I keep saying so.” 
+
+A small smile curved Dors’ s lips, “Is that what you are doing, Hari, looking for 
+some sort of solution to this problem?” 
+
+“I don’t know. I swear to you I don’t know. But Chetter Hummin is so anxious to 
+
+
+
+find a solution and, for some reason, I am anxious to please him. He is so persuasive a 
+man.” 
+
+“Yes, I know.” 
+
+Seldon let that comment pass, although a small frown flitted across his face. 
+
+Seldon continued. “Hummin insists the Empire is decaying, that it will collapse, 
+that psychohistory is the only hope for saving it— or cushioning it or ameliorating it— and 
+that without it humanity will be destroyed or, at the very least, go through prolonged 
+misery. He seems to place the responsibility for preventing that on me. Now, the Empire 
+will certainly last my time, but if I’m to live at ease, I must lift that responsibility from 
+my shoulders. I must convince myself— and even convince Hummin-that psychohistory is 
+not a practical way our that, despite theory, it cannot be developed. So I must follow up 
+as many leads as I can and show that each one must fail.” 
+
+“Leads? Like going back in history to a time when human society was smaller 
+than it is now?” 
+
+“Much smaller. And far less complex.” 
+
+“And showing that a solution is still impractical?” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+“But who is going to describe the early world for you? If the Mycogenians have 
+some coherent picture of the primordial Galaxy, Sunmaster certainly won’t reveal it to a 
+tribesman. No Mycogenian will. This is an ingrown society-how many times have we 
+already said it?— and its members are suspicious of tribesmen to the point of paranoia. 
+They’ll tell us nothing.” 
+
+“I will have to think of a way to persuade some Mycogenians to talk. Those 
+Sisters, for instance.” 
+
+“They won’t even bear you, male that you are, any more than Sunmaster hears 
+me. And even if they do talk to you, what would they know but a few catch phrases?” 
+
+“I must start somewhere.” 
+
+Dors said, “Well, let me think. Hummin says I must protect you and I interpret 
+that as meaning I must help you when I can. What do I know about religion? That’s 
+nowhere near my specialty, you know. I have always dealt with economic forces, rather 
+than philosophic forces, but you can’t split history into neat little nonoverlapping 
+divisions. For instance, religions tend to accumulate wealth when successful and that 
+eventually tends to distort the economic development of a society. There, incidentally, is 
+one of the numerous rules of human history that you’ll have to derive from your basic 
+Laws of Humanics or whatever you called them. But . . . 
+
+And here, Dors’ s voice faded away as she lapsed into thought. Seldon watched 
+her cautiously and Dors’ s eyes glazed as though she was looking deep within herself. 
+
+Finally she said, “This is not an invariable rule, but it seems to me that on many 
+occasions, a religion has a book— or books-of significance; books that give their ritual, 
+their view of history, their sacred poetry, and who knows what else. Usually, those books 
+are open to all and are a means of proselytization. Sometimes they are secret.” 
+
+“Do you think Mycogen has books of that sort?” 
+
+“To be truthful, “ said Dors thoughtfully, “I have never heard of any. I might have 
+if they existed openly-which means they either don’t exist or are kept secret. In either 
+case, it seems to me you are not going to see them.” 
+
+“At least it’s a starting point, “ said Seldon grimly. 
+
+
+
+42 . 
+
+
+The Sisters returned about two hours after Hari and Dors had finished lunch. They 
+were smiling, both of them, and Raindrop FortyThree, the graver one, held up a gray 
+kirtle for Dors’ s inspection. 
+
+“It is very attractive, “ said Dors, smiling widely and nodding her head with a 
+certain sincerity. “I like the clever embroidery here.” 
+
+“It is nothing, “ twittered Raindrop Forty-Five. “It is one of my old things and it 
+won’t fit very well, for you are taller than I am. But it will do for a while and we will take 
+you out to the very best kirtlery to get a few that will fit you and your tastes perfectly. 
+
+You will see.” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three, smiling a little nervously but saying nothing and keeping 
+her eyes fixed on the ground, handed a white kirtle to Dors. It was folded neatly. Dors did 
+not attempt to unfold it, but passed it on to Seldon. “From the color I should say it’s 
+yours, Hari.” 
+
+“Presumably, “ said Seldon, “but give it back. She did not give it to me.” 
+
+“Oh, Hari, “ mouthed Dors, shaking her head slightly. 
+
+“No, “ said Seldon firmly. “She did not give it to me. Give it back to her and I’ll 
+wait for her to give it to me.” 
+
+Dors hesitated, then made a halfhearted attempt to pass the kirtle back to 
+Raindrop Forty-Three. 
+
+The Sister put her hands behind her back and moved away, all life seeming to 
+drain from her face. Raindrop Forty-Five stole a glance at Seldon, a very quick one, then 
+took a quick step toward Raindrop FortyThree and put her arms about her. 
+
+Dors said, “Come, Hari, I’m sure that Sisters are not permitted to talk to men who 
+are not related to them. What’s the use of making her miserable? She can’t help it.” 
+
+“I don’t believe it, “ said Seldon harshly. “If there is such a rule, is applies only to 
+Brothers. I doubt very much that she’s ever met a tribesman before.” 
+
+Dors said to Raindrop Forty-Three in a soft voice, “Have you ever met a 
+tribesman before, Sister, or a tribeswoman?” 
+
+A long hesitation and then a slow negative shake of the head. 
+
+Seldon threw out his arms. “Well, there you are. If there is a rule of silence, it 
+applies only to the Brothers. Would they have sent these young women-these Sisters-to 
+deal with us if there was any rule against speaking to tribesmen?” 
+
+“It might be, Hari, that they were meant to speak only to me and I to you.” 
+
+“Nonsense. I don’t believe it and I won’t believe it. I am not merely a tribesman, I 
+am an honored guest in Mycogen, asked to be treated as such by Chetter Hummin and 
+escorted here by Sunmaster Fourteen himself. I will not be treated as though I do not 
+exist. I will be in communication with Sunmaster Fourteen and I will complain bitterly.” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Five began to sob and Raindrop Forty-Three, retaining her 
+comparative impassivity, nevertheless flushed faintly. 
+
+Dors made as though to appeal to Seldon once again, but he stopped her with a 
+brief and angry outward thrust of his right arm and then stared Toweringly at Raindrop 
+Forty-Three. 
+
+And finally she spoke and did not twitter. Rather, her voice trembled hoarsely, as 
+
+
+
+though she had to force it to sound in the direction of a male being and was doing so 
+against all her instincts and desires. 
+
+“You must not complain of us, tribesman. That would be unjust. You force me to 
+break the custom of our people. What do you want of me?” 
+
+Seldon smiled disarmingly at once and held out his hand. “The garment you 
+brought me. The kirtle.” 
+
+Silently, she stretched out her arm and deposited the kirtle in his hand. 
+
+He bowed slightly and said in a soft warm voice, “Thank you, Sister.” He then 
+cast a very brief look in Dors’s direction, as though to say: You see? But Dors looked 
+away angrily. 
+
+The kirtle was featureless, Seldon saw as he unfolded it (embroidery and 
+decorativeness were for women, apparently), but it came with a tasselled belt that 
+probably had some particular way of being worn. No doubt he could work it out. 
+
+He said, “I’ll step into the bathroom and put this thing on. It won’t take but a 
+minute, I suppose.” 
+
+He stepped into the small chamber and found the door would not dose behind him 
+because Dors was forcing her way in as well. Only when the two of them were in the 
+bathroom together did the door close. 
+
+“What were you doing?” Dors hissed angrily. “You were an absolute brute, Hari. 
+Why did you treat the poor woman that way? 
+
+Seldon said impatiently, “I had to make her talk to me. I’m counting on her for 
+information. You know that. I’m sorry I had to be cruel, but how else could I have broken 
+down her inhibitions?” And he motioned her out. 
+
+When he emerged, he found Dors in her kirtle too. 
+
+Dors, despite the bald head the skincap gave her and the inherent dowdiness of 
+the kirtle, managed to look quite attractive. The stitching on the robe somehow suggested 
+a figure without revealing it in the least. Her belt was wider than his own and was a 
+slightly different shade of gray from her kirtle. What’s more, it was held in front by two 
+glittering blue stone snaps. (Women did manage to beautify themselves even under the 
+greatest difficulty, Seldon thought.) 
+
+Looking over at Hari, Dors said, “You look quite the Mycogenian now. The two 
+of us are fit to be taken to the stores by the Sisters.” 
+
+“Yes, “ said Seldon, “but afterward I want Raindrop Forty-Three to take me on a 
+tour of the microfarms.” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three’s eyes widened and she took a rapid step backward. 
+
+“I’d like to see them, “ said Seldon calmly. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three looked quickly at Dors. “Tribeswoman—” 
+
+Seldon said, “Perhaps you know nothing of the farms, Sister.” 
+
+That seemed to touch a nerve. She lifted her chin haughtily as she still carefully 
+addressed Dors. “I have worked on the microfarms. All Brothers and Sisters do at some 
+point in their lives.” 
+
+“Well then, take me on the tour, “ said Seldon, “and lets not go through the 
+argument again. I am not a Brother to whom you are forbidden to speak and with whom 
+you may have no dealings. I am a tribesman and an honored guest. I wear this skincap 
+and this kirde so as not to attract undue attention, but I am a scholar and while I am here I 
+must learn. I cannot sit in this room and stare at the wall. I want to see the one thing you 
+
+
+
+have that the rest of the Galaxy does not have . . . your microfarms. I should think you’d 
+be proud to show them.” 
+
+“We are proud, “ said Raindrop Forty-Three, finally facing Seldon as she spoke, 
+“and I will show you and don’t think you will learn any of our secrets if that is what you 
+are after. I will show you the microfarms tomorrow morning. It will take time to arrange 
+a tour.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I will wait till tomorrow morning. But do you promise? Do I have 
+your word of honor?” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three said with clear contempt, “I am a Sister and I will do as I 
+say. I will keep my word, even to a tribesman.” 
+
+Her voice grew icy at the last words, while her eyes widened and seemed to 
+glitter. Seldon wondered what was passing through her mind and felt uneasy. 
+
+43 . 
+
+Seldon passed a restless night. To begin with, Dors had announced that she must 
+accompany him on the tour of the microfarm and he had objected strenuously. 
+
+“The whole purpose, “ he said, “is to make her talk freely, to present her with an 
+unusual environment-alone with a male, even if a tribesman. Having broken custom so 
+far, it will be easier to break it further. If you’re along, she will talk to you and I will only 
+get the leavings.” 
+
+“And if something happens to you in my absence, as it did Upperside?” 
+
+“Nothing will happen. Please! If you want to help me, stay away. If not, I will 
+have nothing further to do with you. I mean it, Dors. This is important to me. Much as 
+I’ve grown fond of you, you cannot come ahead of this.” 
+
+She agreed with enormous reluctance and said only, “Promise me you’ll at least 
+be nice to her, then.” 
+
+And Seldon said, “Is it me you must protect or her? I assure you that I didn’t treat 
+her harshly for pleasure and I won’t do so in the future.” 
+
+The memory of this argument with Dors-their first helped keep him awake a large 
+part of the night; that, together with the nagging thought that the two Sisters might not 
+arrive in the morning, despite Raindrop Forty-Three’s promise. 
+
+They did arrive, however, not long after Seldon had completed a spare breakfast 
+(he was determined not to grow fat through overindulgence) and had put on a kirde that 
+fitted him precisely. He had carefully organized the belt so that it hung perfectly. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three, still with a touch of ice in her eye, said, “if you are ready, 
+Tribesman Seldon, my sister will remain with Tribeswoman Venabili.” Her voice was 
+neither twittery nor hoarse. It was as though she had steadied herself through the night, 
+practicing, in her mind, how to speak to one who was a male but not a Brother. 
+
+Seldon wondered if she had lost sleep and said, “I am quite ready.” 
+
+Together, half an hour later, Raindrop Forty-Three and Hari Seldon were 
+descending level upon level. Though it was daytime by the clock, the light was dusky and 
+dimmer than it had been elsewhere on Trantor. 
+
+There was no obvious reason for this. Surely, the artificial daylight that slowly 
+progressed around the Trantorian sphere could include the Mycogen Sector. The 
+Mycogenians must want it that way, Seldon thought, clinging to some primitive habit. 
+
+
+
+Slowly Seldon’s eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings. 
+
+Seldon tried to meet the eyes of passersby, whether Brothers or Sisters, calmly. 
+
+He assumed he and Raindrop Forty-Three would be taken as a Brother and his woman 
+and that they would be given no notice as long as he did nothing to attract attention. 
+
+Unfortunately, it seemed as if Raindrop Forty-Three wanted to be noticed. She 
+talked to him in few words and in low tones out of a clenched mouth. It was clear that the 
+company of an unauthorized male, even though only she knew this fact, raved her self- 
+confidence. Seldon was quite sure that if he asked her to relax, he would merely make her 
+that much more uneasy. (Seldon wondered what she would do if she met someone who 
+knew her. He felt more relaxed once they reached the lower levels, where human beings 
+were fewer.) 
+
+The descent was not by elevators either, but by moving staired ramps that existed 
+in pairs, one going up and one going down. Raindrop FortyThree referred to them as 
+“escalators.” Seldon wasn’t sure he had caught the word correctly, never having heard it 
+before. 
+
+As they sank to lower and lower levels, Seldon’s apprehension grew. Most worlds 
+possessed microfarms and most worlds produced their own varieties of microproducts. 
+Seldon, back on Helicon, had occasionally shopped for seasonings in the microfarms and 
+was always aware of an unpleasant stomach-turning stench. 
+
+The people who worked at the microfarms didn’t seem to mind. Even when casual 
+visitors wrinkled their noses, they seemed to acclimate themselves to it. Seldon, however, 
+was always peculiarly susceptible to the smell. He suffered and he expected to suffer 
+now. He tried soothing himself with the thought that he was nobly sacrificing his comfort 
+to his need for information, but that didn’t keep his stomach from turning itself into knots 
+in apprehension. 
+
+After he had lost track of the number of levels they had descended, with the air 
+still seeming reasonably fresh, he asked, “When do we get to the microfarm levels?” 
+
+“We’re there now.” 
+
+Seldon breathed deeply. “It doesn’t smell as though we are.” 
+
+“Smell? What do you mean?” Raindrop Forty-Three was Offended enough to 
+speak quite loudly. 
+
+“There was always a putrid odor associated with microfarms, in my experience. 
+You know, from the fertilizer that bacteria, yeast, fungi, and saprophytes generally need.” 
+
+“In your experience?” Her voice lowered again. “Where was that?” 
+
+“On my home world.” 
+
+The Sister twisted her face into wild repugnance. “And your people wallow in 
+gabelle?” 
+
+Seldon had never heard the word before, but from the look and the intonation, he 
+knew what it meant. 
+
+He said, “It doesn’t smell like that, you understand, once it is ready for 
+consumption.” 
+
+“Ours doesn’t smell like that at any time. Our biotechnicians have worked out 
+perfect strains. The algae grow in the purest light and the most carefully balanced 
+electrolyte solutions. The saprophytes are fed on beautifully combined organics. The 
+formulas and recipes are something no tribespeople will ever know. -Come on, here we 
+are. Sniff all you want. You’ll find nothing offensive. That is one reason why our food is 
+
+
+
+in demand throughout the Galaxy and why the Emperor, we are told, eats nothing else, 
+though it is far too good for a tribesman if you ask me, even if he calls himself Emperor.” 
+
+She said it with an anger that seemed directly aimed at Seldon. Then, as though 
+afraid he might miss that, she added, “Or even if be calls himself an honored guest.” 
+
+They stepped out into a narrow corridor, on each side of which were large thick 
+glass tanks in which roiled cloudy green water full of swirling, growing algae, moving 
+about through the force of the gas bubbles that streamed up through it. They would be 
+rich in carbon dioxide, he decided. 
+
+Rich, rosy light shone down into the tanks, light that was much brighter than that 
+in the corridors. He commented thoughtfully on that. 
+
+“Of course, “ she said. “These algae work best at the red end of the spectrum.” 
+
+“I presume, “ said Seldon, “that everything is automated.” 
+
+She shrugged, but did not respond. 
+
+“I don’t see quantities of Brothers and Sisters in evidence, “ Seldon said, 
+persisting. 
+
+“Nevertheless, there is work to be done and they do it, even if you don’t see them 
+at work. The details are not for you. Don’t waste your time by asking about it.” 
+
+“Wait. Don’t be angry with me. I don’t expect to be told state secrets. Come on, 
+dear.” (The word slipped out.) 
+
+He took her arm as she seemed on the point of hurrying away. She remained in 
+place, but he felt her shudder slightly and he released her in embarrassment. 
+
+He said, “It’s just that is seems automated.” 
+
+“Make what you wish of the seeming. Nevertheless, there is room here for human 
+brains and human judgment. Every Brother and Sister has occasion to work here at some 
+time. Some make a profession of it.” 
+
+She was speaking more freely now but, to his continuing embarrassment, he 
+noticed her left hand move stealthily toward her right arm and gently rub the spot where 
+he had touched her, as though he had stung her. 
+
+“It goes on for kilometers and kilometers, “ she said, “but if we turn here there’ll 
+he a portion of the fungal section you can see.” 
+
+They moved along. Seldon noted how clean everything was. The glass sparkled. 
+The tiled floor seemed moist, though when he seized a moment to bend and touch it, it 
+wasn’t. Nor was it slippery -unless his sandals (with his big toe protruding in approved 
+Mycogenian fashion) had nonslip soles. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three was right in one respect. Here and there a Brother or a 
+Sister worked silently, studying gauges, adjusting controls, sometimes engaged in 
+something as unskilled as polishing equipment-always absorbed in whatever they were 
+doing. 
+
+Seldon was careful not to ask what they were doing, since he did not want to 
+cause the Sister humiliation in having to answer that she did not know or anger in her 
+having to remind him there were things he must not know. 
+
+They passed through a lightly swinging door and Seldon suddenly noticed the 
+faintest touch of the odor he remembered. He looked at Raindrop Forty-Three, but she 
+seemed unconscious of it and soon he too became used to it. 
+
+The character of the light changed suddenly. The rosiness was gone and the 
+brightness too. All seemed to be in a twilight except where equipment was spotlighted 
+
+
+
+and wherever there was a spot light there seemed to be a Brother or a Sister. Some wore 
+lighted headbands that gleamed with a pearly glow and, in the middle distance, Seldon 
+could see, here and there, small sparks of light moving erratically. 
+
+As they walked, he case a quick eye on her profile. It was all he could really judge 
+by. At all other times, he could not cease being conscious of her bulging bald head, her 
+bare eyes, her colorless face. They drowned her individuality and seemed to make her 
+invisible. Here in profile, however, he could see something. Nose, chin, full lips, 
+regularity, beauty. The dim light somehow smoothed out and softened the great upper 
+desert. 
+
+He thought with surprise: She could be very beautiful if she grew her hair and 
+arranged it nicely. 
+
+And then he thought that she couldn’t grow her hair. She would be bald her whole 
+
+life. 
+
+Why? Why did they have to do that to her? Sunmaster said it was so that a 
+Mycogenian would know himself (or herself) for a Mycogenian all his (or her) life. Why 
+was that so important that the curse of hairlessness had to be accepted as a badge or mark 
+of identity? 
+
+And then, because he was used to arguing both sides in his mind, he thought: 
+Custom is second nature. Be accustomed to a bald head, sufficiently accustomed, and hair 
+on it would seem monstrous, would evoke nausea. He himself had shaved his face every 
+morning, removing all the facial hair, uncomfortable at the merest stubble, and yet he did 
+not think of his face as bald or as being in any way unnatural. Of course, he could grow 
+his facial hair at any time he wished— but he didn’t wish to do so. 
+
+He knew that there were worlds on which the men did not shave; in some, they 
+did not even clip or shape the facial hair but let it grow wild. What would they say if they 
+could see his own bald face, his own hairless chin, cheek, and lips? 
+
+And meanwhile, he walked with Raindrop Forty-Three-endlessly, it seemed— and 
+every once in a while she guided him by the elbow and it seemed to him that she had 
+grown accustomed to that, for she did not withdraw her hand hastily. Sometimes it 
+remained for nearly a minute. 
+
+She said, “Here! Come here!” 
+
+“What is that?” asked Seldon. 
+
+They were standing before a small tray filled with little spheres, each about two 
+centimeters in diameter. A Brother who was tending the area and who had just placed the 
+tray where it was looked up in mild inquiry. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three said to Seldon in a low voice, “Ask for a few.” 
+
+Seldon realized she could not speak to a Brother until spoken to and said 
+uncertainly, “May we have a few, B-brother?” 
+
+“Have a handful, Brother, “ said the other heartily. 
+
+Seldon plucked out one of the spheres and was on the point of handing it to 
+Raindrop Forty-Three when he noticed that she had accepted the invitation as applying to 
+herself and reached in for two handfuls. 
+
+The sphere felt glossy, smooth. Seldon said to Raindrop FortyThree as they 
+moved away from the vat and from the Brother who was in attendance, “Are these 
+supposed to be eaten?” He lifted the sphere cautiously to his nose. 
+
+“They don’t smell, “ she said sharply. 
+
+
+
+“What are they? 
+
+“Dainties. Raw dainties. For the outside market they’re flavored in different ways, 
+but here in Mycogen we eat them unflavored — the only way.” 
+
+She put one in her mouth and said, “I never have enough.” 
+
+Seldon put his sphere into his mouth and felt it dissolve and disappear rapidly. His 
+mouth, for a moment, ran liquid and then it slid, almost of its own accord, down his 
+throat. 
+
+He stood for a moment, amazed. It was slightly sweet and, for that matter, had an 
+even fainter bitter aftertaste, but the train sensation eluded him. 
+
+“May I have another?” he said. 
+
+“Have half a dozen, “ said Raindrop Forty-Three, holding out her hand. “They 
+never have quite the same taste twice and have practically no calories. Just taste.” 
+
+She was right. He tried to have the dainty linger in his mouth; he tried licking it 
+carefully; tried biting off apiece. However, the most careful lick destroyed it. When a bit 
+was crunched off apiece, the rest of it disappeared at once. And each taste was 
+undefinable and not quite like the one before. 
+
+“The only trouble is, “ said the Sister happily, “that every once in a while you 
+have a very unusual one and you never forget it, but you never have it again either. I had 
+one when I was nine—” Her expression suddenly lost its excitement and she said, “It’s a 
+good thing. It teaches you the evanescence of things of the world.” 
+
+It was a signal, Seldon thought. They had wandered about aimlessly long enough. 
+She had grown used to him and was talking to him. And now the conversation had to 
+come to its point. Now! 
+
+44 . 
+
+Seldon said, “I come from a world which lies out in the open, Sister, as all worlds 
+do but Trantor. Rain comes or doesn’t come, the rivers trickle or are in flood, temperature 
+is high or low. That means harvests are good or bad. Here, however, the environment is 
+truly controlled. Harvests have no choice but to be good. How fortunate Mycogen is.” 
+
+He waited. There were different possible answers and his course of action would 
+depend on which answer came. 
+
+She was speaking quite freely now and seemed to have no inhibitions concerning 
+his masculinity, so this long tour had served its purpose. Raindrop Forty-Three said, “The 
+environment is not that easy to control. There are, occasionally, viral infections and there 
+are sometimes unexpected and undesirable mutations. There are times when whole vast 
+batches wither or are worthless.” 
+
+“You astonish me. And what happens then?” 
+
+“There is usually no recourse but to destroy the spoiled batches, even those that 
+are merely suspected of spoilage. Trays and tanks must be totally sterilized, sometimes 
+disposed of altogether.” 
+
+“It amounts to surgery, then, “ said Seldon. “You cut out the diseased tissue.” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+“And what do you do to prevent such things from happening?” 
+
+“What can we do? We test constantly for any mutations that may spring up, any 
+new viruses that may appear, any accidental contamination or alteration of the 
+
+
+
+environment. It rarely happens that we detect anything wrong, but if we do, we take 
+drastic action. The result is that bad years are very few and even bad years affect only 
+fractional bits here and there. The worst year we’ve ever had fell short of the average by 
+only 12 percent-though that was enough to produce hardship. The trouble is that even the 
+most careful forethought and the most cleverly designed computer programs can’t always 
+predict what is essentially unpredictable.” 
+
+(Seldon felt an involuntary shudder go through him. It was as though she was 
+speaking of psychohistory— but she was only speaking of the microfarm produce of a tiny 
+fraction of humanity, while he himself was considering all the mighty Galactic Empire in 
+every one of all its activities.) 
+
+Unavoidably disheartened, he said, “Surely, it’s not all unpredictable. There are 
+forces that guide and that care for us all.” 
+
+The Sister stiffened. She turned around toward him, seeming to study him with 
+her penetrating eyes. 
+
+But all she said was “What?” 
+
+Seldon felt uneasy. “It seems to me that in speaking of viruses and mutations, 
+we’re talking about the natural, about phenomena that are subject to natural law. That 
+leaves out of account the supernatural, doesn’t it? It leaves out that which is not subject to 
+natural law and can, therefore, control natural law.” 
+
+She continued to stare at him, as though he had suddenly begun speaking some 
+distant, unknown dialect of Galactic Standard. Again she said, in half a whisper this time, 
+“Wharf” 
+
+He continued, stumbling over unfamiliar words that half-embarrassed him. “You 
+must appeal to some great essence, some great spirit, some ... I don’t know what to call 
+it.” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three said in a voice that rose into higher registers but remained 
+low, “I thought so. I thought that was what you meant, but I couldn’t believe it. You’re 
+accusing us of having religion. Why didn’t you say so? Why didn’t you use the word?” 
+
+She waited for an answer and Seldon, a little confused at the onslaught, said, 
+“Because that’s not a word I use. I call it ‘supernaturalism.’ “ 
+
+“Call it what you will. It’s religion and we don’t have it. Religion is for the 
+tribesmen, for the swarming sc—” 
+
+The Sister paused to swallow as though she had come near to choking and Seldon 
+was certain the word she had choked over was .. 
+
+She was in control again. Speaking slowly and somewhat below her normal 
+soprano, she said, “We are not a religious people. Our kingdom is of this Galaxy and 
+always has been. If you have a religion 
+
+Seldon felt trapped. Somehow he had not counted on this. He raised a hand 
+defensively. “Not really. I’m a mathematician and my kingdom is also of this Galaxy. It’s 
+just that I thought, from the rigidity of your customs, that your kingdom—” 
+
+“Don’t think it, tribesman. If our customs are rigid, it is because we are mere 
+millions surrounded by billions. Somehow we must mark ourselves off so that we 
+precious few are not lost among your swarms and hordes. We must be marked off by our 
+hairlessness, our clothing, our behavior, our way of life. We must know who we are and 
+we must be sure that you tribesmen know who we are. We labor in our farms so that we 
+can make ourselves valuable in your eyes and thus make certain that you leave us alone. 
+
+
+
+That’s all we ask of you ... to leave us alone.” 
+
+“I have no intention of harming you or any of your people. I seek only 
+knowledge, here as everywhere.” 
+
+“So you insult us by asking about our religion, as though we have ever called on a 
+mysterious, insubstantial spirit to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.” 
+
+“There are many people, many worlds who believe in supernaturalism in one 
+form or another . . . religion, if you like the word better. We may disagree with them in 
+one way or another, but we are as likely to be wrong in our disbelief as they in their 
+belief. In any case, there is no disgrace in such belief and my questions were not intended 
+as insults.” 
+
+But she was not reconciled. “Religion!” she said angrily. “We have no need of it.” 
+
+Seldon’s spirits, having sunk steadily in the course of this exchange, reached 
+bottom. This whole thing, this expedition with Raindrop Forty-Three, had come to 
+nothing. 
+
+But she went on to say, “We have something far better. We have history. “ 
+
+And Seldon’s s feelings rebounded at once and he smiled. 
+
+Book 
+
+
+HAND-ON-THIGH STORY-. . . An occasion cited by Hari Seldon as the first 
+turning point in his search for a method to develop psychohistory. Unfortunately, his 
+published writings give no indication as to what that “story” was and speculations 
+concerning it (there have been many) are futile. It remains one of the many intriguing 
+mysteries concerning Seldon’s career. 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+45 . 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three stared at Seldon, wild-eyed and breathing heavily. 
+
+“I can’t stay here, “ she said. 
+
+Seldon looked about. “No one is bothering us. Even the Brother from whom we 
+got the dainties said nothing about us. He seemed to take us as a perfectly normal pair.” 
+
+“That’s because there is nothing unusual about us-when the light is dim, when 
+you keep your voice low so the tribesman accent is less noticeable, and when I seem 
+calm. But now—” Her voice was growing hoarse. 
+
+“What of now?” 
+
+“I am nervous and tense. I am ... in a perspiration.” 
+
+“Who is to notice? Relax. Calm down.” 
+
+“I can’t relax here. I can’t calm down while I may be noticed.” 
+
+“Where are we to go, then?” 
+
+“There are little sheds for resting. I have worked here. I know about them.” 
+
+She was walking rapidly now and Seldon followed. Up a small ramp, which he 
+would not have noticed in the twilight without her, there was a line of doors, well spread 
+apart. 
+
+“The one at the end, “ she muttered. “If it’s free.” 
+
+It was unoccupied. A small glowing rectangle said NOT IN USE and the door 
+
+
+
+was ajar. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three looked about rapidly, motioned Seldon in, then stepped 
+inside herself. She closed the door and, as she did so, a small ceiling light brightened the 
+interior. 
+
+Seldon said, “Is there any way the sign on the door can indicate this shed is in 
+
+use?” 
+
+“That happened automatically when the door closed and the light went on, “ said 
+the Sister. 
+
+Seldon could feel air softly circulating with a small sighing sound, but where on 
+Trantor was that ever-present sound and feel not apparent? 
+
+The room was not large, but it had a cot with a firm, efficient mattress, and what 
+were obviously clean sheets. There was a chair and table, a small refrigerator, and 
+something that looked like an enclosed hot plate, probably a tiny food-heater. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three sat down on the chair, sitting stiffly upright, visibly 
+attempting to force herself into relaxation. 
+
+Seldon, uncertain as to what he ought to do, remained standing till she gestured-a 
+bit impatiently-for him to sit on the cot. He did so. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three said softly, as though talking to herself, “If it is ever known 
+that I have been here with a man-even if only a tribesman-I shall indeed be an outcast.” 
+
+Seldon rose quickly. “Then let’s not stay here.” 
+
+“Sit down. I can’t go out when I’m in this mood. You’ve been asking about 
+religion. What are you after?” 
+
+It seemed to Seldon that she had changed completely. Gone was the passivity, the 
+subservience. There was none of the shyness, the backwardness in the presence of a male. 
+She was glaring at him through narrowed eyes. 
+
+“I told you. Knowledge. I’m a scholar. It is my profession and my desire to know, 
+I want to understand people in particular, so I want to learn history. For many worlds, the 
+ancient historical records-the truly ancient historical records-have decayed into myths and 
+legends, often becoming part of a set of religious beliefs or of supernaturalism. But if 
+Mycogen does not have a religion, then—” 
+
+“I said we have history. “ 
+
+Seldon said, “Twice you’ve said you have history. How old?” 
+
+“It goes back twenty thousand years.” 
+
+“Truly? Let us speak frankly. Is it real history or is it something that has 
+degenerated into legend?” 
+
+“It is real history, of course.” 
+
+Seldon was on the point of asking how she could tell, but thought better of it. Was 
+there really a chance that history might reach back twenty thousand years and be 
+authentic? He was not a historian himself, so he would have to check with Dors. 
+
+But it seemed so likely to him that on every world the earliest histories were 
+medleys of self-serving heroisms and minidramas that were meant as morality plays and 
+were not to be taken literally. It was surely true of Helicon, yet you would find scarcely a 
+Heliconian who would not swear by all the tales told and insist it was all true history. 
+They would support, as such, even that perfectly ridiculous tale of the first exploration of 
+Helicon and the encounters with large and dangerous flying reptiles-even though nothing 
+like flying reptiles had been found to be native to any world explored and settled by 
+
+
+
+human beings. 
+
+He said instead, “How does this history begin?” 
+
+There was a faraway look in the Sister’s eyes, a look that did not focus on Seldon 
+or on anything in the room. She said, “It begins with a world-our world. One world.” 
+
+“One world?” (Seldon remembered that Hummin had spoken of legends of a 
+single, original world of humanity.) 
+
+“One world. There were others later, but ours was the first. One world, with 
+space, with open air, with room for everyone, with fertile fields, with friendly homes, 
+with warm people. For thousands of years we lived there and then we had to leave and 
+skulk in one place or another until some of us found a corner of Trantor where we learned 
+to grow food that brought us a little freedom. And here in Mycogen, we now have our 
+own ways — and our own dreams.” 
+
+“And your histories give the full details concerning the original world? The one 
+world?” 
+
+“Oh yes, it is all in a book and we all have it. Every one of us. We carry it at all 
+times so that there is never a moment when any one of us cannot open it and read it and 
+remember who we are and who we were and resolve that someday we will have our 
+world back.” 
+
+“Do you know where this world is and who lives on it now?” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three hesitated, then shook her head fiercely. “We do not, but 
+someday we will find it.” 
+
+“And you have this book in your possession now?” 
+
+“Of course.” 
+
+“May I see that book?” 
+
+Now a slow smile crossed the face of the Sister. She said, “So that’s what you 
+want. I knew you wanted something when you asked to be guided through the 
+microfarms by me alone.” She seemed a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think it was the 
+Book. “ 
+
+“It is all I want, “ said Seldon earnestly. “I really did not have my mind on 
+anything else. If you brought me here because you thought—” 
+
+She did not allow him to finish. “But here we are. Do you or don’t you want the 
+
+Book?” 
+
+“Are you offering to let me see it?” 
+
+“On one condition.” 
+
+Seldon paused, weighing the possibility of serious trouble if he had overcome the 
+Sister’s inhibitions to a greater extent than he had ever intended. “What condition?” he 
+said. 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three’s tongue emerged lighdy and licked quickly at her lips. 
+Then she said with a distinct tremor in her voice, “That you remove your skincap.” 
+
+46 . 
+
+Hari Seldon stared blankly at Raindrop Forty-Three. There was a perceptible 
+moment in which he did not know what she was talking about. He had forgotten he was 
+wearing a skincap. 
+
+Then he put his hand to his head and, for the first time, consciously felt the 
+
+
+
+skincap he was wearing. It was smooth, but he felt the tiny resilience of the hair beneath. 
+Not much. His hair, after all, was fine and without much body. 
+
+He said, still feeling it, “Why?” 
+
+She said, “Because I want you to. Because that’s the condition if you want to see 
+the Book.” 
+
+He said, “Well, if you really want me to.” His hand probed for the edge, so that he 
+could peel it off. 
+
+But she said, “No, let me do it. I’ll do it.” She was looking at him hungrily. 
+
+Seldon dropped his hands to his lap. “Go ahead, then.” 
+
+The Sister rose quickly and sat down next to him on the cot. Slowly, carefully, she 
+detached the skincap from his head just in front of his ear. Again she licked her lips and 
+she was panting as she loosened the skincap about his forehead and turned it up. Then it 
+came away and was gone and Seldon’ s hair, released, seemed to stir a bit in glad 
+freedom. 
+
+He said, troubled, “Keeping my hair under the skincap has probably made my 
+scalp sweat. If so, my hair will be rather damp.” 
+
+He raised his hand, as though to check the matter, but she caught it and held it 
+back. “I want to do that, “ she said. “Its part of the condition.” 
+
+Her fingers, slowly and hesitantly, touched his hair and then withdrew. She 
+touched it again and, very gently, stroked it. 
+
+“It’s dry, “ she said. “It feels . . . good.” 
+
+“Have you ever felt cephalic hair before?” 
+
+“Only on children sometimes. This ... is different.” She was stroking again. 
+
+“In what way?” Seldon, even amid his embarrassment, found it possible to be 
+curious. 
+
+“I can’t say. Its just . . . different.” 
+
+After a while he said, “Have you had enough?” 
+
+“No. Don’t rush me. Can you make it lie anyway you want it to?” 
+
+“Not really. It has a natural way of falling, but I need a comb for that and I don’t 
+have one with me.” 
+
+“A comb?” 
+
+“An object with prongs . . . uh, like a fork . . . but the prongs are more numerous 
+and somewhat softer.” 
+
+“Can you use your fingers?” She was running hers through his hair. 
+
+He said, “After a fashion. It doesn’t work very well.” 
+
+“Its bristly behind.” 
+
+“The hair is shorter there.” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three seemed to recall something. “The eyebrows, “ she said. 
+“Isn’t that what they’re called?” She stripped off the shields, then ran her fingers through 
+the gentle arc of hair, against the grain. 
+
+“That’s nice, “ she said, then laughed in a high-pitched way that was almost like 
+her younger sister’s giggle. “They’re cute.” 
+
+Seldon said a little impatiently, “Is there anything else that’s part of the 
+condition?” 
+
+In the rather dim light, Raindrop Forty-Three looked as though she might be 
+considering an affirmative, but said nothing. Instead, she suddenly withdrew her hands 
+
+
+
+and lifted them to her nose. Seldon wondered what she might be smelling. 
+
+“How odd, “ she said. “May I . . . may I do it again another time?” 
+
+Seldon said uneasily, “If you will let me have the Book long enough to study it, 
+then perhaps.” 
+
+Raindrop Forty-Three reached into her kirtle through a slit that Seldon had not 
+noticed before and, from some hidden inner pocket, removed a book bound in some 
+tough, flexible material. He took it, trying to control his excitement. 
+
+While Seldon readjusted his skincap to cover his hair, Raindrop Forty-Three 
+raised her hands to her nose again and then, gently and quickly, licked one finger. 
+
+47 . 
+
+“Felt your hair?” said Dors Venabili. She looked at Seldon’s hair as though she 
+was of a mind to feel it herself. 
+
+Seldon moved away slighdy. “Please don’t. The woman made it seem like a 
+perversion.” 
+
+“I suppose it was-from her standpoint. Did you derive no pleasure from it 
+yourself?” 
+
+“Pleasure? It gave me gooseflesh. When she finally stopped, I was able to breathe 
+again. I kept thinking: What other conditions will she make?” 
+
+Dors laughed. “Were you afraid that she would force sex upon you? Or hopeful?” 
+
+“I assure you I didn’t dare think. I just wanted the Book.” 
+
+They were in their room now and Dors turned on her field distorter to make sure 
+they would not be overheard. 
+
+The Mycogenian night was about to begin. Seldon had removed his skincap and 
+kirtle and had bathed, paying particular attention to his hair, which he had foamed and 
+rinsed twice. He was now sitting on his cot, wearing a light nightgown that had been 
+hanging in the closet. 
+
+Dors said, eyes dancing, “Did she know you have hair on your chest?” 
+
+“I was hoping earnestly she wouldn’t think of that.” 
+
+“Poor Hari. It was all perfectly natural, you know. I would probably have had 
+similar trouble if I was alone with a Brother. Worse, I’m sure, since he would believe- 
+Mycogenian society being what it is-that as a woman I would be bound to obey his orders 
+without delay or demur.” 
+
+“No, Dors. You may think it was perfectly natural, but you didn’t experience it. 
+The poor woman was in a high state of sexual excitement. She engaged all her senses . . . 
+smelled her fingers, licked them. If she could have heard hair grow, she would have 
+listened avidly.” 
+
+“But that’s what I mean by ‘natural.’ Anything you make forbidden gains sexual 
+attractiveness. Would you be particularly interested in women’s breasts if you lived in a 
+society in which they were displayed at all times?” 
+
+“I think I might.” 
+
+“Wouldn’t you be more interested if they were always hidden, as in most societies 
+they are? -Listen, let me tell you something that happened to me. I was at a lake resort 
+back home on Cinna ... I presume you have resorts on Helicon, beaches, that sort of 
+thing?” 
+
+
+
+“Of course, “ said Seldon, slightly annoyed. “What do you think Helicon is, a 
+world of rocks and mountains, with only well water to drink?” 
+
+“No offense, Hari. I just want to make sure you’ll get the point of the story. On 
+our beaches at Cinna, we’re pretty lighthearted about what we wear ... or don’t wear.” 
+
+“Nude beaches?” 
+
+“Not actually, though I suppose if someone removed ah of his or her clothing it 
+wouldn’t be much remarked on. The custom is to wear a decent minimum, but I must 
+admit that what we consider decent leaves very little to the imagination.” 
+
+Seldon said, “We have somewhat higher standards of decency on Helicon.” 
+
+“Yes, I could tell that by your careful treatment of me, but to each its own. In any 
+case, I was sitting at the small beach by the lake and a young man approached to whom I 
+had spoken earlier in the day. He was a decent fellow I found nothing particularly wrong 
+with. He sat on the arm of my chair and placed his right hand on my left thigh, which was 
+bare, of course, in order to steady himself. 
+
+“After we had spoken for a minute and a half or so, he said, impishly. ‘Here I am. 
+You know me hardly at all and yet it seems perfectly natural to me that I place my hand 
+on your thigh. What’s more, it seems perfectly natural to you, since you don’t seem to 
+mind that it remains there.’ 
+
+“It was only then that I actually noticed that his hand was on my thigh. Bare skin 
+in public somehow loses some of its sexual quality. As I said, its the hiding from view 
+that is crucial. 
+
+“And the young man felt this too, for he went on to say, ‘Yet if I were to meet you 
+under more formal conditions and you were wearing a gown, you wouldn’t dream of 
+letting me lift your gown and place my hand on your thigh on the precise spot it now 
+occupies.’ 
+
+“I laughed and we continued to talk of this and that. Of course, the young man, 
+now that my attention had been called to the position of his hand, felt it no longer 
+appropriate to keep it there and removed it. 
+
+“That night I dressed for dinner with more than usual care and appeared in 
+clothing that was considerably more formal than was required or than other women in the 
+dining room were wearing. I found the young man in question. He was sitting at one of 
+the tables. I approached, greeted him, and said, ‘Here I am in a gown, but under it my left 
+thigh is bare. I give you permission. Just lift the gown and place your hand on my left 
+thigh where you had it earlier.’ 
+
+“He tried. I’ll give him credit for that, but everyone was staring. I wouldn’t have 
+stopped him and I’m sure no one else would have stopped him either, but he couldn’t 
+bring himself to do it. It was no more public then than it had been earlier and the same 
+people were present in both cases. It was clear that I had taken the initiative and that I had 
+no objections, but he could not bring himself to violate the proprieties. The conditions, 
+which had been hand-on-thigh in the afternoon, were not hand-on-thigh in the evening 
+and that meant more than anything logic could say.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I would have put my hand on your thigh.” 
+
+“Are you sure?” 
+
+“Positive.” 
+
+“Even though your standards of decency on the beach are higher than ours are?” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+
+
+Dors sat down on her own cot, then lay down with her hands behind her head. “So 
+that you’re not particularly disturbed that I’m wearing a nightgown with very little 
+underneath it.” 
+
+“I’m not particularly shocked. As for being disturbed, that depends on the 
+definition of the word. I’m certainly aware of how you’re dressed.” 
+
+“Well, if we’re going to be cooped up here for a period of time, we’ll have to 
+learn to ignore such things.” 
+
+“Or take advantage of them, “ said Seldon, grinning. “And I like your hair. After 
+seeing you bald all day, I like your hair.” 
+
+“Well, don’t touch it. I haven’t washed it yet.” She half-closed her eyes. “It’s 
+interesting. You’ve detached the informal and formal level of respectability. What you’re 
+saying is that Helicon is more respectable at the informal level than Cinna is and less 
+respectable at the formal level. Is that right?” 
+
+“Actually, I’m just talking about the young man who placed his hand on your 
+thigh and myself. How representative we are as Cinnians and Heliconians, respectively, I 
+can’t say. I can easily imagine some perfectly proper individuals on both worlds — and 
+some madcaps too.” 
+
+“We’re talking about social pressures. I’m not exactly a Galactic traveler, but I’ve 
+had to involve myself in a great deal of social history. On the planet of Derowd, there 
+was a time when premarital sex was absolutely free. Multiple sex was allowed for the 
+unmarried and public sex was frowned upon only when traffic was blocked: And yet, 
+after marriage, monogamy was absolute and unbroken. The theory was that by working 
+off all one’s fantasies first, one could settle down to the serious business of life.” 
+
+“Did it work?” 
+
+“About three hundred years ago that stopped, but some of my colleagues say it 
+stopped through external pressure from other worlds who were losing too much tourist 
+business to Derowd. There is such a thing as overall Galactic social pressure too.” 
+
+“Or perhaps economic pressure, in this case.” 
+
+“Perhaps. And being at the University, by the way, I get a chance to study social 
+pressures, even without being a Galactic traveler. I meet people from scores of places 
+inside and outside of Trantor and one of the pet amusements in the social science 
+departments is the comparison of social pressures. 
+
+“Here in Mycogen, for instance, I have the impression that sex is strictly 
+controlled and is permitted under only the most stringent rules, all the more tighdy 
+enforced because it is never discussed. In the Streeling Sector, sex is never discussed 
+either, but it isn’t condemned. In the Jennat Sector, where I spent a week once doing 
+research, sex is discussed endlessly, but only for the purpose of condemning it. I don’t 
+suppose there are any two sectors in Trantor —or any two worlds outside Trantor — in 
+which attitudes toward sex are completely duplicated.” 
+
+Seldon said, “You know what you make it sound like? It would appear., 
+
+Dors said, “I’ll tell you how it appears. All this talk of sex makes one thing clear 
+to me. I’m simply not going to let you out of my sight anymore.” 
+
+“What?” 
+
+“Twice I let you go, the first time through my own misjudgment and the second 
+because you bullied me into it. Both times it was clearly a mistake. You know what 
+happened to you the first time.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon said indignantly, “Yes, but nothing happened to me the second time.” 
+
+“You nearly got into a lot of trouble. Suppose you had been caught indulging in 
+sexual escapades with a Sister?” 
+
+“It wasn’t a sexual—” 
+
+“You yourself said she was in a high state of sexual excitement.” 
+
+“But-” 
+
+“It was wrong. Please get it through your head, Hari. From now on, you go 
+nowhere without me.” 
+
+“Look, “ said Seldon freezingly, “my object was to find out about Mycogenian 
+history and as a result of the so-called sexual escapade with a Sister, I have a book-the 
+Book.” 
+
+“The Book! True, there’s the Book. Let’s see it.” 
+
+Seldon produced it and Dors thoughtfully hefted it. 
+
+She said, “It might not do us any good, Hari. This doesn’t look as though it will fit 
+any projector I’ve ever encountered. That means you ’ll have to get a Mycogenian 
+projector and they’ll want to know why you want it. They’ll then find out you have this 
+Book and they’ll take it away from you.” 
+
+Seldon smiled. “If your assumptions were correct, Dors, your conclusions would 
+be inescapable, but it happens that this is not the kind of book you think it is. It’s not 
+meant to be projected. The material is printed on various pages and the pages are turned. 
+Raindrop FortyThree explained that much to me.” 
+
+“A print-book!” It was hard to tell whether Dors was shocked or amused. “That’s 
+from the Stone Age.” 
+
+“It’s certainly pre-Empire, “ said Seldon, “but not entirely so. Have you ever seen 
+a print-book?” 
+
+“Considering that I’m a historian? Of course, Hari.” 
+
+“Ah, but like this one?” 
+
+He handed over the Book and Dors, smiling, opened it-then turned to another 
+page-then flipped the pages. “Its blank, “ she said. 
+
+“It appears to be blank. The Mycogenians are stubbornly primitivistic, but not 
+entirely so. They will keep to the essence of the primitive, but have no objection to using 
+modern technology to modify it for convenience’s sake. Who knows?” 
+
+“Maybe so, Hari, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.” 
+
+“The pages aren’t blank, they’re covered with microprint. Here, give it back. If I 
+press this little nubbin on the inner edge of the cover- Look!” 
+
+The page to which the book lay open was suddenly covered with lines of print 
+that rolled slowly upward. 
+
+Seldon said, “You can adjust the rate of upward movement to match your reading 
+speed by slightly twisting the nubbin one way or the other. When the lines of print reach 
+their upward limit when you reach the bottom line, that is-they snap downward and turn 
+off. You turn to the next page and continue.” 
+
+“Where does the energy come from that does all this?” 
+
+“It has an enclosed microfusion battery that lasts the life of the book.” 
+
+“Then when it runs down—” 
+
+“You discard the book, which you may be required to do even before it runs 
+down, given wear and tear, and get another copy. You never replace the battery.” 
+
+
+
+Dors took the Book a second time and looked at it from all sides. She said, “I 
+must admit I never heard of a book like this.” 
+
+“Nor I. The Galaxy, generally, has moved into visual technology so rapidly, it 
+skipped over this possibility.” 
+
+“This is visual.” 
+
+“Yes, but not with the orthodox effects. This type of book has its advantages. It 
+holds far more than an ordinary visual book does.” 
+
+Dors said, “Where’s the turn-on? -Ah, let me see if I can work it.” She had 
+opened to a page at random and set the lines of print marching upward. Then she said, 
+“I’m afraid this won’t do you any good, Hari. It’s pre-Galactic. I don’t mean the book. I 
+mean the print ... the language.” 
+
+“Can you read it, Dors? As a historian—” 
+
+“As a historian, I’m used to dealing with archaic language— but within limits. This 
+is far too ancient for me. I ran make out a few words here and there, but not enough to be 
+useful.” 
+
+“Good, “ said Seldon. “If it’s really ancient, it will be useful.” 
+
+“Not if you can’t read it.” 
+
+“I can read it, “ said Seldon. “It’s bilingual. You don’t suppose that Raindrop 
+Forty-Three can read the ancient script, do you?” 
+
+“If she’s educated properly, why not?” 
+
+“Because I suspect that women in Mycogen are not educated past household 
+duties. Some of the more learned men can read this, but everyone else would need a 
+translation to Galactic.” He pushed another nubbin. “And this supplies it.” 
+
+The lines of print changed to Galactic Standard. 
+
+“Delightful, “ said Dors in admiration. 
+
+“We could learn from these Mycogenians, but we don’t.” 
+
+“We haven’t known about it.” 
+
+“I can’t believe that. I know about it now. And you know about it. There must be 
+outsiders coming into Mycogen now and then, for commercial or political reasons, or 
+there wouldn’t be skincaps so ready for use. So every once in a while someone must have 
+caught a glimpse of this sort of print-book and seen how it works, but it’s probably 
+dismissed as something curious but not worth further study, simply because it’s 
+Mycogenian.” 
+
+“But is it worth study?” 
+
+“Of course. Everything is. Or should be. Hummin would probably point to this 
+lack of concern about these books as a sign of degeneration in the Empire.” 
+
+He lifted the Book and said with a gush of excitement, “But I am curious and I 
+will read this and it may push me in the direction of psychohistory.” 
+
+“I hope so, “ said Dors, “but if you take my advice, you’ll sleep first and approach 
+it fresh in the morning. You won’t learn much if you nod over it.” 
+
+Seldon hesitated, then said, “How maternal you are!” 
+
+“I’m watching over you.” 
+
+“But I have a mother alive on Helicon. I would rather you were my friend.” 
+
+“As for that, I have been your friend since first I met you.” 
+
+She smiled at him and Seldon hesitated as though he were not certain as to the 
+appropriate rejoinder. Finally he said, “Then I’ll take your advice— as a friend— and sleep 
+
+
+
+before reading.” 
+
+He made as though to put the Book on a small table between the two cots, 
+hesitated, turned, and put it under his pillow. 
+
+Dors Venabili laughed softly. “I think you’re afraid I will wake during the night 
+and read parts of the Book before you have a chance to. Is that it?” 
+
+“Well, “ said Seldon, trying not to look ashamed, “that may be it. Even friendship 
+only goes so far and this is my book and it’s my psychohistory.” 
+
+“I agree, “ said Dors, “and I promise you that we won’t quarrel over that. By the 
+way, you were about to say something earlier when I interrupted you. Remember?” 
+
+Seldon thought briefly. “No.” 
+
+In the dark, he thought only of the Book. He gave no thought to the hand-on-thigh 
+story. In fact, he had already quite forgotten it, consciously at least. 
+
+48 . 
+
+Venabili woke up and could tell by her timeband that the night period was only 
+half over. Not hearing Hari’s snore, she could tell that his cot was empty. If he had not 
+left the apartment, then he was in the bathroom. 
+
+She tapped lightly on the door and said softly, “Hari?” 
+
+He said, “Come in, “ in an abstracted way and she did. 
+
+The toilet lid was down and Seldon, seated upon it, held the Book open on his lap. 
+He said, quite unnecessarily, “I’m reading.” 
+
+“Yes, I see that. But why?” 
+
+“I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry.” 
+
+“But why read in here?” 
+
+“If I had turned on the room light, I would have woken you up.” 
+
+“Are you sure the Book can’t be illuminated?” 
+
+“Pretty sure. When Raindrop Forty-Three described its workings, she never 
+mentioned illumination. Besides, I suppose that would use up so much energy that the 
+battery wouldn’t last the life of the Book.” He sounded dissatisfied. 
+
+Dors said, “You can step out, then. I want to use this place, as long as I’m here.” 
+
+When she emerged, she found him sitting cross-legged on his cot, still reading, 
+with the room well lighted. 
+
+She said, “You don’t look happy. Does the Book disappoint you?” 
+
+He looked up at her, blinking. “Yes, it does. I’ve sampled it here and there. Its all 
+I’ve had time to do. The thing is a virtual encyclopedia and the index is almost entirely a 
+listing of people and places that are of little use for my purposes. It has nothing to do with 
+the Galactic Empire or the pre-imperial Kingdoms either. It deals almost entirely with a 
+single world and, as nearly as I can make out from what I have read, it is an endless 
+dissertation on internal politics.” 
+
+“Perhaps you underestimate its age. It may deal with a period when there was 
+indeed only one world . . . one inhabited world.” 
+
+“Yes, I know, “ said Seldon a little impatiently. “That’s actually what I want- 
+provided I can be sure its history, not legend. I wonder. I don’t want to believe it just 
+because I want to believe it.” 
+
+Dors said, “Well, this matter of a single-world origin is much in the air these days. 
+
+
+
+Human beings are a single species spread all over the Galaxy, so they must have 
+originated somewhere. At least that’s the popular view at present. You can’t have 
+independent origins producing the same species on different worlds.” 
+
+“But I’ve never seen the inevitability of that argument, “ said Seldon. “If human 
+beings arose on a number of worlds as a number of different species, why couldn’t they 
+have interbred into some single intermediate species?” 
+
+“Because species can’t interbreed. That’s what makes them species.” 
+
+Seldon thought about it a moment, then dismissed it with a shrug. “Well, I’ll leave 
+it to the biologists.” 
+
+“They’re precisely the ones who are keenest on the Earth hypothesis.” 
+
+“Earth? Is that what they call the supposed world of origin?” 
+
+“That’s a popular name for it, though there’s no way of telling what it was called, 
+assuming there was one. And no one has any clue to what its location might be.” 
+
+“Earth!” said Seldon, curling his lips. “It sounds like a belch to me. In any case, if 
+the book deals with the original world, I didn’t come across it. How do you spell the 
+word?” 
+
+She told him and he checked the Book quickly. “There you are. The name is not 
+listed in the index, either by that spelling or any reasonable alternative.” 
+
+“Really?” 
+
+“And they do mention other worlds in passing. Names aren’t given and there 
+seems no interest in those other worlds except insofar as they directly impinge on the 
+local world they speak of ... at least as far as I can see from what I’ve read. In one place, 
+they talked about ‘The Fifty.’ I don’t know what they meant. Fifty leaders? Fifty cities? It 
+seemed to me to be fifty worlds.” 
+
+“Did they give a name to their own world, this world that seems to preoccupy 
+them entirely?” asked Dors. “If they don’t call it Earth, what do they call it?” 
+
+“As you’d expect, they call it ‘the world’ or ‘the planet.’ Sometimes they call it 
+‘the Oldest’ or ‘The World of the Dawn, ‘ which has a poetic significance, I presume, 
+that isn’t clear to me. I suppose one ought to read the Book entirely through and some 
+matters will then grow to make more sense.” He looked down at the Book in his hand 
+with some distaste. “It would take a very long time, though, and I’m not sure that I’d end 
+up any the wiser.” 
+
+Dors sighed. “I’m sorry, Hari. You sound so disappointed.” 
+
+“That’s because I am disappointed. It’s my fault, though. I should not have 
+allowed myself to expect too much. -At one point, come to think of it, they referred to 
+their world as ‘Aurora.’ “ 
+
+“Aurora?” said Dors, lifting her eyebrows. 
+
+“It sounds like a proper name. It doesn’t make any sense otherwise, as far as I can 
+see. Does it mean anything to you, Dors?” 
+
+“Aurora.” Dors thought about it with a slight frown on her fare. “I can’t say I’ve 
+ever heard of a planet with that name in the course of the history of the Galactic Empire 
+or during the period of its growth, for that matter, but I won’t pretend to know the name 
+of every one of the twenty five million worlds. We could look it up in the University 
+library-if we ever get back to Streeling. There’s no use trying to find a library here in 
+Mycogen. Somehow I have a feeling that all their knowledge is in the Book. If anything 
+isn’t there, they aren’t interested.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon yawned and said, “I think you’re right. In any case, there’s no use reading 
+any more and I doubt that I can keep my eyes open any longer. Is it all right if I put out 
+the light?” 
+
+“I would welcome it, Hari. And let’s sleep a little later in the morning.” 
+
+Then, in the dark, Seldon said softly, “Of course, some of what they say is 
+ridiculous. For instance, they refer to a life expectancy on their world of between three 
+and four centuries.” 
+
+“Centuries?” 
+
+“Yes, they count their ages by decades rather than by years. It gives you a queer 
+feeling, because so much of what they say is perfectly matter-of-fact that when they come 
+out with something that odd, you almost find yourself trapped into believing it.” 
+
+“If you feel yourself beginning to believe that, then you should realize that many 
+legends of primitive origins assume extended life spans for early leaders. If they’re 
+pictured as unbelievably heroic, you see, it seems natural that they have life spans to 
+suit.” 
+
+“Is that so?” said Seldon, yawning again. 
+
+“It is. And the cure for advanced gullibility is to go to sleep and consider matters 
+again the next day.” 
+
+And Seldon, pausing only long enough to think that an extended life span might 
+well be a simple necessity for anyone trying to understand a Galaxy of people, slept. 
+
+49 . 
+
+The next morning, feeling relaxed and refreshed and eager to begin his study of 
+the Book again, Hari asked Dors, “How old would you say the Raindrop sisters are?” 
+
+“I don’t know. Twenty . . . twenty-two?” 
+
+“Well, suppose they do live three or four centuries 
+
+“Hari. That’s ridiculous.” 
+
+“I’m saying suppose. In mathematics, we say ‘suppose’ all the time and see if we 
+can end up with something patently untrue or selfcontradictory. An extended life span 
+would almost surely mean an extended period of development. They might seem in their 
+early twenties and actually be in their sixties.” 
+
+“You can try asking them how old they are.” 
+
+“We can assume they’d lie.” 
+
+“Look up their birth certificates.” 
+
+Seldon smiled wryly. “I’ll bet you anything you like-a roll in the hay, if you’re 
+willing-that they’ll claim they don’t keep records or that, if they do, they will insist those 
+records are closed to tribespeople.” 
+
+“No bet, “ said Dors. “And if that’s true, then it’s useless trying to suppose 
+anything about their age.” 
+
+“Oh no. Think of it this way. If the Mycogenians are living extended life spans 
+that are four or five times that of ordinary human beings, they can’t very well give birth 
+to very many children without expanding their population tremendously. You remember 
+that Sunmaster said something about not having the population expand and bit off his 
+remarks angrily at that time.” 
+
+Dors said, “What are you getting at?” 
+
+
+
+“When I was with Raindrop Forty-Three, I saw no children.” 
+
+“On the microfarms?” 
+
+‘Yes.’ 
+
+“Did you expect children there? I was with Raindrop Forty-Five in the shops and 
+on the residential levels and I assure you I saw a number of children of all ages, including 
+infants. Quite a few of them.” 
+
+“Ah.” Seldon looked chagrined. “Then that would mean they can’t be enjoying 
+extended life spans.” 
+
+Dors said, “By your line of argument, I should say definitely not. Did you really 
+think they did?” 
+
+“No, not really. But then you can’t close your mind either and make assumptions 
+without testing them one way or another.” 
+
+“You can waste a lot of time that way too, if you stop to chew away at things that 
+are ridiculous on the face of it.” 
+
+“Some things that seem ridiculous on the face of it aren’t. That’s all. Which 
+reminds me. You���re the historian. In your work, have you ever come across objects or 
+phenomena called ‘robots’?” 
+
+“Ah! Now you’re switching to another legend and a very popular one. There are 
+any number of worlds that imagine the existence of machines in human form in 
+prehistoric times. These are called ‘robots.’ 
+
+“The tales of robots probably originate from one master legend, for the general 
+theme is the same. Robots were devised, then grew in numbers and abilities to the status 
+of the almost superhuman. They threatened humanity and were destroyed. In every case, 
+the destruction took place before the actual reliable historic records available to us today 
+existed. The usual feeling is that the story is a symbolic picture of the risks and dangers 
+of exploring the Galaxy, when human beings expanded outward from the world or worlds 
+that were their original homes. There must always have been the fear of encountering 
+other— and superior-intelligences.” 
+
+“Perhaps they did at least once and that gave rise to the legend.” 
+
+“Except that on no human-occupied world has there been any record or trace of 
+any prehuman or nonhuman intelligence.” 
+
+“But why ‘robots’? Does the word have meaning?” 
+
+“Not that I know of, but it’s the equivalent of the familiar ‘automata.’ “ 
+
+“Automata! Well, why don’t they say so?” 
+
+“Because people do use archaic terms for flavor when they tell an ancient legend. 
+Why do you ask all this, by the way?” 
+
+“Because in this ancient Mycogenian book, they talk of robots. And very 
+favorably, by the way. -Listen, Dors, aren’t you going out with Raindrop Forty-Five 
+again this afternoon?” 
+
+“Supposedly-if she shows up.” 
+
+“Would you ask her some questions and try to get the answers out of her?” 
+
+“I can try. What are the questions?” 
+
+“I would like to find out, as tactfully as possible, if there is some structure in 
+Mycogen that is particularly significant, that is tied in with the past, that has a sort of 
+mythic value, that can—” 
+
+Dors interrupted, trying not to smile. “I think that what you are trying to ask is 
+
+
+
+whether Mycogen has a temple.” 
+
+And, inevitably, Seldon looked blank and said, “What’s a temple?” 
+
+“Another archaic term of uncertain origin. It means all the things you asked 
+about-significance, past, myth. Very well, I’ll ask. It’s the sort of thing, however, that 
+they might find difficult to speak of. To tribespeople, certainly.” 
+
+“Nevertheless, do try.” 
+
+Sacratorium 
+
+
+AURORA- ... A mythical world, supposedly inhabited in primordial times, 
+during the dawn of interstellar travel. It is thought by some to he the perhaps equally 
+mythical “world of origin” of humanity and to be another name for “Earth.” The people 
+of the Mycogen (q.v.) Sector of ancient Trantor reportedly held themselves to be 
+descended from the inhabitants of Aurora and made that tenet central to their system of 
+beliefs, concerning which almost nothing else is known . . . 
+
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+50 . 
+
+The two Raindrops arrived at midmorning. Raindrop Forty-Five seemed as 
+cheerful as ever, but Raindrop Forty-Three paused just inside the door, looking drawn 
+and circumspect. She kept her eyes down and did not as much as glance at Seldon. 
+
+Seldon looked uncertain and gestured to Dors, who said in a cheerful businesslike 
+tone of voice, “One moment, Sisters. I must give instructions to my man or he won’t 
+know what to do with himself today.” 
+
+They moved into the bathroom and Dors whispered, “Is something wrong?” 
+
+“Yes. Raindrop Forty-Three is obviously shattered. Please tell her that I will 
+return the Book as soon as possible.” 
+
+Dors favored Seldon with a long surprised look. “Hari, “ she said, “you’re a 
+sweet, caring person, but you haven’t the good sense of an amoeba. If I as much as 
+mention the Book to the poor woman, she’ll be certain that you told me all about what 
+happened yesterday and then she’ll really be shattered. The only hope is to treat her 
+exactly as I would ordinarily.” 
+
+Seldon nodded his head and said dispiritedly, “I suppose you’re right.” 
+
+Dors returned in time for dinner and found Seldon on his cot, still leafing through 
+the Book, but with intensified impatience. 
+
+He looked up with a scowl and said, “If we’re going to be staying here any length 
+of time, we’re going to need a communication device of some sort between us. I had no 
+idea when you’d get back and I was a little concerned.” 
+
+“Well, here I am, “ she said, removing her skincap gingerly and looking at it with 
+more than a little distaste. “I’m really pleased at your concern. I rather thought you’d be 
+so lost in the Book, you wouldn’t even realize I was gone.” 
+
+Seldon snorted. 
+
+Dors said, “As for communications devices, I doubt that they are easy to come by 
+in Mycogen. It would mean easing communication with tribespeople outside and I 
+suspect the leaders of Mycogen are bound and determined to cut down on any possible 
+
+
+
+interaction with the great beyond.” 
+
+“Yes, “ said Seldon, tossing the Book to one side, “I would expect that from what 
+I see in the Book. Did you find out about the whatever you called it . . . the temple?” 
+
+“Yes, “ she said, removing her eyebrow patches. “It exists. There are a number of 
+them over the area of the sector, but there’s a central building that seems to be the 
+important one. -Would you believe that one woman noticed my eyelashes and told me 
+that I shouldn’t let myself be seen in public? I have a feeling she intended to report me 
+for indecent exposure.” 
+
+“Never mind that, “ said Seldon impatiently. “Do you know where the central 
+temple is located?” 
+
+“I have directions, but Raindrop Forty-Five warned me that women were not 
+allowed inside except on special occasions, none of which are coming up soon. It’s called 
+the Sacratorium.” 
+
+“The what.” 
+
+“The Sacratorium.” 
+
+“What an ugly word. What does it mean?” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “It’s new to me. And neither Raindrop knew what it meant 
+either. To them, Sacratorium isn’t what the building is called, it’s what it is. Asking them 
+why they called it that probably sounded like asking them why a wall is called a wall.” 
+
+“Is there anything about it they do know?” 
+
+“Of course, Hari. They know what it’s for. It’s a place that’s devoted to 
+something other than the life here in Mycogen. It’s devoted to another world, a former 
+and better one.” 
+
+“The world they once lived on, you mean?” 
+
+“Exactly. Raindrop Forty-Five all but said so, but not quite. She couldn’t bring 
+herself to say the word.” 
+
+“Aurora?” 
+
+“That’s the word, but I suspect that if you were to say it out loud to a group of 
+Mycogenians, they would be shocked and horrified. Raindrop Forty-Five, when she said, 
+‘The Sacratorium is dedicated to-’, stopped at that point and carefully wrote out the 
+letters one by one with her finger on the palm of her hand. And she blushed, as though 
+she was doing something obscene.” 
+
+“Strange, “ said Seldon. “If the Book is an accurate guide, Aurora is their dearest 
+memory, their chief point of unification, the center about which everything in Mycogen 
+revolves. Why should its mention be considered obscene? -Are you sure you didn’t 
+misinterpret what the Sister meant?” 
+
+“I’m positive. And perhaps it’s no mystery. Too much talk about it would get to 
+tribespeople. The best way of keeping it secret unto themselves is to make its very 
+mention taboo.” 
+
+“Taboo?” 
+
+“A specialized anthropological term. It’s a reference to serious and effective 
+social pressure forbidding some sort of action. The fact that women are not allowed in the 
+Sacratorium probably has the force of a taboo. I’m sure that a Sister would be horrified if 
+it was suggested that she invade its precincts.” 
+
+“Are the directions you have good enough for me to get to the Sacratorium on my 
+
+
+own?” 
+
+
+
+“In the first place, Hari, you’re not going alone. I’m going with you. I thought we 
+had discussed the matter and that I had made it clear that I cannot protect you at long 
+distance-not from sleet storms and not from feral women. In the second place, it’s 
+impractical to think of walking there. Mycogen may be a small sector, as sectors go, but 
+it simply isn’t that small.” 
+
+“An Expressway, then.” 
+
+“There are no Expressways passing through Mycogenian territory. It would make 
+contact between Mycogenians and tribespeople too easy. Still, there are public 
+conveyances of the kind that are found on less developed planets. In fact, that’s what 
+Mycogen is, a piece of an undeveloped planet, embedded like a splinter in the body of 
+Trantor, which is otherwise a patchwork of developed societies, —and Hari, finish with 
+the Book as soon as possible. It’s apparent that Rainbow Forty-Three is in trouble as long 
+as you have it and so will we be if they find out.” 
+
+“Do you mean a tribesperson reading it is taboo?” 
+
+“I’m sure of it.” 
+
+“Well, it would be no great loss to give it back. I should say that 95 percent of it is 
+incredibly dull; endless in-fighting among political groups, endless justification of 
+policies whose wisdom I cannot possibly judge, endless homilies on ethical matters 
+which, even when enlightened, and they usually aren’t, are couched with such infuriating 
+self-righteousness as to almost enforce violation.” 
+
+“You sound as though I would be doing you a great favor it I took the thing away 
+from you.” 
+
+“Except that there’s always the other 5 percent that discusses the never- to-be- 
+mentioned Aurora. I keep thinking that there may be something there and that it may be 
+helpful to me. That’s why I wanted to know about the Sacratorium. 
+
+“Do you hope to find support for the Book’s concept of Aurora in the 
+Sacratorium?” 
+
+“In a way. And I’m also terribly caught up in what the Book has to say about 
+automata, or robots, to use their term. I find myself attracted to the concept.” 
+
+“Surely, you don’t take it seriously?” 
+
+“Almost. If you accept some passages of the Book literally, then there is an 
+implication that some robots were in human shape.” 
+
+“Naturally. If you’re going to construct a simulacrum of a human being, you will 
+make it look like a human being.” 
+
+“Yes, simulacrum means ‘likeness, ‘ but a likeness can be crude indeed. An artist 
+can draw a stick figure and you might know he is representing a human being and 
+recognize it. A circle for the head, a stalk for the body, and four bent lines for arms and 
+legs and you have it. But I mean robots that really look like a human being, in every 
+detail.” 
+
+“Ridiculous, Hari. Imagine the time it would take to fashion the metal of the body 
+into perfect proportions, with the smooth curve of underlying muscles.” 
+
+“Who said ‘metal, ‘ Dors? The impression I got is that such robots were organic 
+or pseudo-organic, that they were covered with skin, that you could not easily draw a 
+distinction between them and human beings in any way.” 
+
+“Does the Book say that?” 
+
+“Not in so many words. The inference, however—” 
+
+
+
+“Is your inference, Hari. You can’t take it seriously.” 
+
+“Let me try. I find four things that I can deduce from what the Book says about 
+robots— and I followed up every reference the index gave. First, as I say, they— or some of 
+them-exactly resembled human beings; second, they had very extended life spans-if you 
+want to call it that.” 
+
+“Better say ‘effectiveness, ‘ “ said Dors, “or you’ll begin thinking of them as 
+human altogether.” 
+
+“Third, “ said Seldon, ignoring her, “that some— or, at any rate, at least one- 
+continues to live on to this day.” 
+
+“Hart’, that’s one of the most widespread legends we have. The ancient hero does 
+not die but remains in suspended animation, ready to return to save his people at some 
+time of great need. Really, Hari.” 
+
+“Fourth, “ said Seldon, still not rising to the bait, “there are some lines that seem 
+to indicate that the central temple— or the Sacratorium, if that’s what it is, though I 
+haven’t found that word in the Book, actually contains a robot.” He paused, then said, 
+“Do you see?” 
+
+Dors said, “No. What should I see?” 
+
+“If we combine the four points, perhaps a robot that looks exactly like a human 
+being and that is still alive, having been alive for, say, the last twenty thousand years, is 
+in the Sacratorium.” 
+
+“Come on, Hari, you can’t believe that.” 
+
+“I don’t actually believe it, but I can’t entirely let go either. What if its true? What 
+if-its only one chance out of a million, I admit it’s true? Don’t you see how useful he 
+could be to me? He could remember the Galaxy as it was long before any reliable 
+historical records existed. He might help make psychohistory possible.” 
+
+“Even if it was true, do you suppose the Mycogenians would let you see and 
+interview the robot?” 
+
+“I don’t intend to ask permission. I can at least go to the Sacratorium and see if 
+there’s something to interview first.” 
+
+“Not now. Tomorrow at the earliest. And if you don’t think better of it by 
+morning, we go.” 
+
+“You told me yourself they don’t allow women—” 
+
+“They allow women to look at it from outside, I’m sure, and I suspect that is all 
+we’ll get to do.” 
+
+And there she was adamant. 
+
+Hari Seldon was perfectly willing to let Dors take the lead. She had been out in 
+the main roadways of Mycogen and was more at home with them than he was. 
+
+Dors Venabili, brows knitted, was less delighted with the prospect. She said, “We 
+can easily get lost, you know.” 
+
+“Not with that booklet, “ said Seldon. 
+
+She looked up at him impatiently. “Fix your mind on Mycogen, Hari. What I 
+should have is a computomap, something I can ask questions of. This Mycogenian 
+version is just a piece of folded plastic. I can’t tell this thing where I am. I can’t tell it by 
+word of mouth and I can’t even tell it by pushing the necessary contacts. It can’t tell me 
+anything either way. It’s a print thing.” 
+
+“Then read what it says.” 
+
+
+
+“That’s what I’m trying to do, but it’s written for people who are familiar with the 
+system to begin with. We’ll have to ask.” 
+
+“No, Dors. That would be a last resort. I don’t want to attract attention. I would 
+rather we take our chances and try to find our own way, even if it means making one or 
+two wrong turns.” 
+
+Dors leafed through the booklet with great attention and then said grudgingly, 
+“Well, it gives the Sacratorium important mention. I suppose that’s only natural. I 
+presume everyone in Mycogen would want to get there at one time or another.” Then, 
+after additional concentration, she said, “I’ll tell you what. There’s no way of taking a 
+conveyance from here to there.” 
+
+“What?” 
+
+“Don’t get excited. Apparently, there’s a way of getting from here to another 
+conveyance that will take us there. We’ll have to change from one to another.” 
+
+Seldon relaxed. “Well, of course. You can’t take an Expressway to half the places 
+on Trantor without changing.” 
+
+Dors cast an impatient glance at Seldon. “I know that too. It’s just that I’m used to 
+having these things tell me so. When they expect you to find out for yourself, the simplest 
+things can escape you for a while.” 
+
+“All right, dear. Don’t snap. If you know the way now, lead. I will follow 
+humbly.” 
+
+And follow her he did, until they came to an intersection, where they stopped. 
+
+Three white-kirtled males and a pair of gray-kirtled females were at the same 
+intersection. Seldon tried a universal and general smile in their direction, but they 
+responded with a blank stare and looked away. 
+
+And then the conveyance came. It was an outmoded version of what Seldon, back 
+on Helicon, would have called a gravi-bus. There were some twenty upholstered benches 
+inside, each capable of holding four people. Each bench had its own doors on both sides 
+of the bus. When it stopped, passengers emerged on either side. (For a moment, Seldon 
+was concerned for those who got out on the traffic side of the gravi-bus, but then he 
+noticed that every vehicle approaching from either direction stopped as it neared the bus. 
+None passed it while it was not moving.) 
+
+Dors pushed Seldon impatiently and he moved on to a bench where two adjoining 
+seats were available. Dors followed after. (The men always got on and got off first, he 
+noticed.) 
+
+“Well, try.” 
+
+“For instance, “ she said and pointed to a smooth boxed-off area on the back of 
+the bench directly before each of them. As soon as the conveyance had begun to move, 
+words lit up, naming the next stop and the notable structures or crossways that were 
+nearby. 
+
+“Now, that will probably tell us when we’re approaching the changeover we want. 
+At least the sector isn’t completely barbaric.” 
+
+“Good, “ said Seldon. Then, after a while, leaning toward Dors, he whispered, 
+
+“No one is looking at us. It seems that artificial boundaries are set up to preserve 
+individual privacy in any crowded place. Have you noticed that?” 
+
+“I’ve always taken it for granted. If that’s going to be a rule of your 
+psychohistory, no one will be very impressed by it.” 
+
+
+
+As Dors had guessed, the direction plaque in front of them eventually announced 
+the approach to the changeover for the direct line to the Sacratorium. 
+
+They exited and again had to wait. Some buses ahead had already left this 
+intersection, but another gravi-bus was already approaching. They were on a well- 
+traveled route, which was not surprising; the Sacratorium was bound to be the center and 
+heartbeat of the sector. 
+
+They got on the gravi-bus and Seldon whispered, “We’re not paying.” 
+
+“According to the map, public transportation is a free service.” 
+
+Seldon thrust out his lower lip. “How civilized. I suppose that nothing is all of a 
+piece, not backwardness, not barbarism, nothing.” 
+
+But Dors nudged him and whispered, “Your rule is broken. We’re being watched. 
+The man on your right.” 
+
+52 . 
+
+Seldon’ s 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, lightskinned, 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.” 
+
+Seldon’ s 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. 
+
+“I’m 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 Dors’ s 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: “It’s 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 Seldon’ s 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 Mycogenian’s voice crackled a bit with age, but it was cheerful. He said, “It’s 
+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. 
+
+“You’re 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 milkat 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. 
+
+“It’s 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 one’s 
+taken my place. I call it mine only because it’s my favorite seat. It affords a beautiful 
+view of the side wall of the Sacratorium past the trees. Please sit down. It’s 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 
+don’t use numbers, I’m 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, you’ve 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.” 
+
+“I’m 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. I’m a scholar.” 
+
+“A scholar?” 
+
+“First one in my cohort. I studied at the Sacratorium School and did very well. 
+I’m 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 don’t mind a little hair showing. I’ve 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?” 
+
+“It’s 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 isn’t that much joy. it’s mostly wailing and mourning 
+and prostrating one’s self over the Lost World.” His voice dropped and became soft. 
+“Very silly.” 
+
+Dors said, “You’re not a ... a believer?” 
+
+“I’m a scholar, “ said Mycelium with obvious pride. His face wrinkled as he 
+grinned and took on an even more pronounced appearance of age. Seldon found himself 
+wondering how old the man was. Several centuries? -No, they’d disposed of that. It 
+couldn’t be and yet 
+
+“How old are you?” Seldon asked suddenly, involuntarily. 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two showed no signs of taking offense at the question, nor 
+did he display any hesitation at answering, “Sixtyseven.” 
+
+Seldon had to know. “I was told that your people believe that in very early times 
+everyone lived for several centuries.” 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two looked at Seldon quizzically. “Now how did you find 
+that out? Someone must have been talking out of turn ... but its true. There is that belief. 
+Only the unsophisticated believe it, but the Elders encourage it because it shows our 
+superiority. Actually, our life expectancy is higher than elsewhere because we eat more 
+nutritionally, but living even one century is rare.” 
+
+“I take it you don’t consider Mycogenians superior, “ said Seldon. 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two said, “There’s nothing wrong with Mycogenians. 
+
+
+
+They’re certainly not inferior. Still, I think that all men are equal. -Even women, “ he 
+added, looking across at Dors. 
+
+“I don’t suppose, “ said Seldon, “that many of your people would agree with 
+
+that.” 
+
+“Or many of your people, “ said Mycelium Seventy-Two with a faint resentment. 
+“I believe it, though. A scholar has to. I’ve viewed and even read all the great literature of 
+the tribespeople. I understand your culture. I’ve written articles on it. I can sit here just as 
+comfortably with you as though you were . . . tit. “ 
+
+Dors said a little sharply, “You sound proud of understanding tribespeople’s 
+ways. Have you ever traveled outside Mycogen?” 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two seemed to move away a little. “No.” 
+
+“Why not? You would get to know us better.” 
+
+“I wouldn’t feel right. I’d have to wear a wig. I’d be ashamed.” 
+
+Dors said, “Why a wig? You could stay bald.” 
+
+“No, “ said Mycelium Seventy-Two, “I wouldn’t be that kind of fool. I’d be 
+mistreated by all the hairy ones.” 
+
+“Mistreated? Why?” said Dors. “We have a great many naturally bald people 
+everywhere on Trantor and on every other world too.” 
+
+“My father is quite bald, “ said Seldon with a sigh, “and I presume that in the 
+decades to come I will be bald too. My hair isn’t all that thick now.” 
+
+“That’s not bald, “ said Mycelium Seventy-Two. “You keep hair around the edges 
+and over your eyes. I mean bald-no hair at all.” 
+
+“Anywhere on your body?” said Dors, interested. 
+
+And now Mycelium Seventy-Two looked offended and said nothing. 
+
+Seldon, anxious to get the conversation back on track, said, “Tell me, Mycelium 
+Seventy-Two, can tribespeople enter the Sacratorium as spectators?” 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two shook his head vigorously. “Never. It’s for the Sons of 
+the Dawn only.” 
+
+Dors said, “Only the Sons?” 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two looked shocked for a moment, then said forgivingly, 
+“Well, you’re tribespeople. Daughters of the Dawn enter only on certain days and times. 
+That’s just the way it is. I don’t say I approve. If it was up to me, I’d say, ‘Go in. Enjoy if 
+you can.’ Sooner others than me, in fact.” 
+
+“Don’t you ever go in?” 
+
+“When I was young, my parents took me, but— he shook his head— ”it was just 
+people staring at the Book and reading from it and sighing and weeping for the old days. 
+It’s very depressing. You can’t talk to each other. You can’t laugh. You can’t even look 
+at each other. Your mind has to be totally on the Lost World. Totally.” He waved a hand 
+in rejection. “Not for me. I’m a scholar and I want the whole world open to me.” 
+
+“Good, “ said Seldon, seeing an opening. “We feel that way too. We are scholars 
+also, Dors and myself.” 
+
+“I know, “ said Mycelium Seventy-Two. 
+
+“You know? How do you know?” 
+
+“You’d have to be. The only tribespeople allowed in Mycogen are Imperial 
+officials and diplomats, important traders, and scholars —and to me you have the look of 
+scholars. That’s what interested me in you. Scholars together.” He smiled delightedly. 
+
+
+
+“So we are. I am a mathematician. Dors is a historian. And you?” 
+
+“I specialize in . . . culture. I’ve read all the great works of literature of the 
+tribespeople: Lissauer, Mentone, Novigor—” 
+
+“And we have read the great works of your people. I’ve read the Book, for 
+instance. -About the Lost World.” 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two’s eyes opened wide in surprise. His olive complexion 
+seemed to fade a little. “You have? How? Where?” 
+
+“At our University we have copies that we can read if we have permission.” 
+
+“Copies of the Book?” 
+
+‘Yes.’ 
+
+“I wonder if the Elders know this?” 
+
+Seldon said, “And I’ve read about robots.” 
+
+“Robots?” 
+
+“Yes. That is why I would like to be able to enter the Sacratorium. I would like to 
+see the robot.” (Dors kicked lighdy at Seldon’s ankle, but he ignored her.) 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two said uneasily, “I don’t believe in such things. Scholarly 
+people don’t.” But he looked about as though he was afraid of being overheard. 
+
+Seldon said, “I’ve read that a robot still exists in the Sacratorium.” 
+
+Mycelium Seventy-Two said, “I don’t want to talk about such nonsense.” 
+
+Seldon persisted. “Where would it be if it was in the Sacratorium?” 
+
+“Even if one was there, I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t been in there since I was a 
+
+child.” 
+
+“Would you know if there was a special place, a hidden place?” 
+
+“There’s the Elders’ aerie. Only Elders go there, but there’s nothing there.” 
+
+“Have you ever been there?” 
+
+“No, of course not.” 
+
+“Then how do you know?” 
+
+“I don’t know that there’s no pomegranate tree there. I don’t know that there’s no 
+laser-organ there. I don’t know that there’s no item of a million different kinds there. 
+Does my lack of knowledge of their absence show they are all present?” 
+
+For the moment, Seldon had nothing to say. 
+
+A ghost of a smile broke through Mycelium Seventy-Two’s look of concern. He 
+said, “That’s scholars’ reasoning. I’m not an easy man to tackle, you see. Just the same, I 
+wouldn’t advise you to try to get up into the Elders’ aerie. I don’t think you’d like what 
+would happen if they found a tribesman inside. -Well. Best of the Dawn to you.” And he 
+rose suddenly- without warning— and hurried away. 
+
+Seldon looked after him, rather surprised. “What made him rush off like that?” 
+
+“I think, “ said Dors, “it’s because someone is approaching.” 
+
+And someone was. A tall man in an elaborate white kirtle, crossed by an even 
+more elaborate and subtly glittering red sash, glided solemnly toward them. He had the 
+unmistakable look of a man with authority and the even more unmistakable look of one 
+who is not pleased. 
+
+53 , 
+
+
+Hari Seldon rose as the new Mycogenian approached. He hadn’t the slightest idea 
+
+
+
+whether that was the appropriate polite behavior, but he had the distinct feeling it would 
+do no harm. Dors Venabili rose with him and carefully kept her eyes lowered. 
+
+The other stood before them. He too was an old man, but more subtly aged than 
+Mycelium Seventy-Two. Age seemed to lend distinction to his still-handsome face. His 
+bald head was beautifully round and his eyes were a startling blue, contrasting sharply 
+with the bright all— but glowing red of his sash. 
+
+The newcomer said, “I see you are tribespeople.” His voice was more high- 
+pitched than Seldon had expected, but he spoke slowly, as though conscious of the weight 
+of authority in every word he uttered. 
+
+“So we are, “ said Seldon politely but firmly. He saw no reason not to defer to the 
+other’s position, but he did not intend to abandon his own. 
+
+“Your names?” 
+
+“I am Hari Seldon of Helicon. My companion is Dors Venabili of Cinna. And 
+yours, man of Mycogen?” 
+
+The eyes narrowed in displeasure, but he too could recognize an air of authority 
+when he felt it. 
+
+“I am Skystrip Two, “ he said, lifting his head higher, “an Elder of the 
+Sacratorium. And your position, tribesman?” 
+
+“We, “ said Seldon, emphasizing the pronoun, “are scholars of Streeling 
+University. I am a mathematician and my companion is a historian and we are here to 
+study the ways of Mycogen.” 
+
+“By whose authority?” 
+
+“By that of Sunmaster Fourteen, who greeted us on our arrival.” 
+
+Skystrip Two fell silent for a moment and then a small smile appeared on his face 
+and he took on an air that was almost benign. He said, “The High Elder. I know him 
+well.” 
+
+“And so you should, “ said Seldon blandly. “Is there anything else, Elder?” 
+
+“Yes.” The Elder strove to regain the high ground. “Who was the man who was 
+with you and who hurried away when I approached?” 
+
+Seldon shook his head, “We never saw him before, Elder, and know nothing 
+about him. We encountered him purely by accident and asked about the Sacratorium.” 
+
+“What did you ask him?” 
+
+“Two questions, Elder. We asked if that building was the Sacratorium and if 
+tribespeople were allowed to enter it. He answered in the affirmative to the first question 
+and in the negative to the second.” 
+
+“Quite so. And what is your interest in the Sacratorium?” 
+
+“Sir, we are here to study the ways of Mycogen and is not the Sacratorium the 
+heart and brain of Mycogen?” 
+
+“It is entirely ours and reserved for us.” 
+
+“Even if an Elder-the High Elder-would arrange for permission in view of our 
+scholarly function?” 
+
+“Have you indeed the High Elder’s permission?” 
+
+Seldon hesitated the slightest moment while Dors’ s eyes lifted briefly to look at 
+him sideways. He decided he could not carry off a lie of this magnitude. “No, “ he said, 
+“not yet.” 
+
+“Or ever, “ said the Elder. “You are here in Mycogen by authority, but even the 
+
+
+
+highest authority cannot exert total control over the public. We value our Sacratorium and 
+the populace can easily grow excited over the presence of a tribesperson anywhere in 
+Mycogen but, most particularly, in the vicinity of the Sacratorium. It would take one 
+excitable person to raise a cry of ‘Invasion!’ and a peaceful crowd such as this one would 
+be turned into one that would be thirsting to tear you apart. I mean that quite literally. For 
+your own good, even if the High Elder has shown you kindness, leave. Now!” 
+
+“But the Sacratorium—” said Seldon stubbornly, though Dors was pulling gently 
+at his kirtle. 
+
+“What is there in the Sacratorium that can possibly interest you?” said the Elder. 
+“You see it now. There is nothing for you to see in the interior.” 
+
+“There is the robot, “ said Seldon. 
+
+The Elder stared at Seldon in shocked surprise and then, bending to bring his lips 
+close to Seldon’s ear, whispered harshly, “Leave now or I will raise the cry of ‘Invasion!’ 
+myself. Nor, were it not for the High Elder, would I give you even this one chance to 
+leave.” 
+
+And Dors, with surprising strength, nearly pulled Seldon off his feet as she 
+stepped hastily away, dragging him along until he caught his balance and stepped quickly 
+after her. 
+
+54 
+
+It was over breakfast the next morning, not sooner, that Dors took up the subject— 
+-and in a way that Seldon found most wounding. 
+
+She said, “Well, that was a pretty fiasco yesterday.” 
+
+Seldon, who had honestly thought he had gotten away with it without comment, 
+looked sullen. “What made it a fiasco?” 
+
+“Driven out is what we were. And for what? What did we gain?” 
+
+“Only the knowledge that there is a robot in there.” 
+
+“Mycelium Seventy-Two said there wasn’t.” 
+
+“Of course he said that. He’s a scholar— or thinks he is-end what he doesn’t know 
+about the Sacratorium would probably fill that library he goes to. You saw the Elder’s 
+reaction.” 
+
+“I certainly did.” 
+
+“He would not have reacted like that if there was no robot inside. He was 
+horrified we knew.” 
+
+“That’s just your guess, Hari. And even if there was, we couldn’t get in.” 
+
+“We could certainly try. After breakfast, we go out and buy a sash for me, one of 
+those obiahs. I put it on, keep my eyes devoutly downward, and walk right in.” 
+
+“Skincap and all? They’ll spot you in a microsecond.” 
+
+“No, they won’t. We’ll go into the library where all the tribespeople data is kept. 
+I’d like to see it anyway. From the library, which is a Sacratorium annex, I gather, there 
+will probably be an entrance into the Sacratorium 
+
+“Where you will be picked up at once.” 
+
+“Not at all. You heard what Mycelium Seventy-Two had to say. Everyone keeps 
+his eyes down and meditates on their great Lost World, Aurora. No one looks at anyone 
+else. It would probably be a grievous breach of discipline to do so. Then I’ll find the 
+
+
+
+Elders’ aerie—” 
+
+“Just like that?” 
+
+“At one point, Mycelium Seventy-Two said he would advise me not to try to get 
+up into the Elders’ aerie. Up. It must be somewhere in that tower of the Sacratorium, the 
+central tower.” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “I don’t recall the man’s exact words and I don’t think you 
+do either. That’s a terribly weak foundation to wait.” She stopped suddenly and frowned. 
+
+“Well?” said Seldon. 
+
+“There is an archaic word ‘aerie’ that means ‘a dwelling place on high.’ ‘ 
+
+“Ah! There you are. You see, we’ve learned some vital things as the result of 
+what you tall a fiasco. And if I can find a living robot that’s twenty thousand years old 
+and if it can tell me- 
+
+“Suppose that such a thing exists, which passes belief, and that you find it, which 
+is not very likely, how long do you think you will be able to talk to it before your 
+presence is discovered?” 
+
+“I don’t know, but if I can prove it exists and if I can find it, then I’ll think of 
+some way to talk to it. It’s too late for me to back out now under any circumstances. 
+Hummin should have left me alone when I thought there was no way of achieving 
+psychohistory. Now that it seems there may be, I won’t let anything stop me — short of 
+being killed.” 
+
+“The Mycogenians may oblige, Hari, and you can’t run that risk.” 
+
+“Yes, I can. I’m going to try.” 
+
+“No, Hari. I must look after you and I can’t let you.” 
+
+“You must let me. Finding a way to work out psychohistory is more important 
+than my safety. My safety is only important because I may work out psychohistory. 
+Prevent me from doing so and your task loses its meaning. -Think about it.” 
+
+Hari felt himself infused with a renewed sense of purpose. Psychohistory-his 
+nebulous theory that he had, such a short while ago, despaired ever of proving-loomed 
+larger, more real. Now he had to believe that it was possible; he could feel it in his gut. 
+The pieces seemed to be falling together and although he couldn’t see the whole pattern 
+yet, he was sure the Sacratorium would yield another piece to the puzzle. 
+
+“Then I’ll go in with you so I can pull you out, you idiot, when the time comes.” 
+
+“Women can’t enter.” 
+
+“What makes me a woman? Only this gray kirtle. You can’t see my breasts under 
+it. I don’t have a woman’s style hairdo with the skincap on. I have the same washed, 
+unmarked face a man has. The men here don’t have stubble. All I need is a white kirtle 
+and a sash and I can enter. Any Sister could do it if she wasn’t held back by a taboo. I am 
+not held back by one.” 
+
+“You’re held back by me. I won’t let you. It’s too dangerous.” 
+
+“No more dangerous for me than for you.” 
+
+“But I must take the risk.” 
+
+“Then so must I. Why is your imperative greater than mine?” 
+
+“Because—” Seldon paused in thought. 
+
+“Just tell yourself this, “ said Dors, her voice hard as rock. “I won’t let you go 
+there without me. If you try, I will knock you unconscious and tie you up. If you don’t 
+like that, then give up any thought of going alone.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon hesitated and muttered darkly. He gave up the argument, at least for now. 
+
+
+55 . 
+
+The sky was almost cloudless, but it was a pale blue, as though wrapped in a high 
+thin mist. That, thought Seldon, was a good touch, but suddenly he missed the sun itself. 
+No one on Trantor saw the planet’s sun unless he or she went Upperside and even then 
+only when the natural cloud layer broke. 
+
+Did native Trantorians miss the sun? Did they give it any thought? When one of 
+them visited another world where a natural sun was in view, did he or she stare, half- 
+blinded, at it with awe? 
+
+Why, he wondered, did so many people spend their lives not trying to find 
+answers to questions-not even thinking of questions to begin with? Was there anything 
+more exciting in life than seeking answers? 
+
+His glance shifted to ground level. The wide roadway was lined with low 
+buildings, most of them shops. Numerous individual ground-cars moved in both 
+directions, each hugging the right side. They seemed like a collection of antiques, but 
+they were electrically driven and quite soundless. Seldon wondered if “antique” was 
+always a word to sneer at. Could it be that silence made up for slowness? Was there any 
+particular hurry to life, after all? 
+
+There were a number of children on the walkways and Seldon’s lips pressed 
+together in annoyance. Clearly, an extended life span for the Mycogenians was 
+impossible unless they were willing to indulge in infanticide. The children of both sexes 
+(though it was hard to tell the boys from the girls) wore kirtles that came only a few 
+inches below the knee, making the wild activity of childhood easier. 
+
+The children also still had hair, reduced to an inch in length at most, but even so 
+the older ones among them had hoods attached to their kirtles and wore them raised, 
+hiding the top of the head altogether. It was as though they were getting old enough to 
+make the hair seem a trifle obscene — or old enough to be wishing to hide it, in longing 
+for the day of rite of passage when they were depilated. 
+
+A thought occurred to Seldon. He said, “Dors, when you’ve been out shopping, 
+who paid, you or the Raindrop women?” 
+
+“I did of course. The Raindrops never produced a credit tile. But why should 
+they? What was being bought was for us, not for them.” 
+
+“But you have a Trantorian credit tile-a tribeswoman credit tile.” 
+
+“Of course, Hari, but there was no problem. The people of Mycogen may keep 
+their own culture and ways of thought and habits of life as they wish. They can destroy 
+their cephalic hair and wear kirtles. Nevertheless, they must use the world’s credits. If 
+they don’t, that would choke off commerce and no sensible person would want to do that. 
+The credits nerve, Hari.” She held up her hand as though she was holding an invisible 
+credit tile. 
+
+“And they accepted your credit tile?” 
+
+“Never a peep out of them. And never a word about my skincap. Credits sanitize 
+everything.” 
+
+“Well, that’s good. So I can buy—” 
+
+“No, I’ll do the buying. Credits may sanitize everything, but they more easily 
+
+
+
+sanitize a tribeswoman. They’re so used to paying women little or no attention that they 
+automatically pay me the same, —and here’s the clothing store I’ve been using.” 
+
+“I’ll wait out here. Get me a nice red sash-one that looks impressive.” 
+
+“Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten our decision. I’ll get two. And another white 
+kirtle also ... to my measurements.” 
+
+“Won’t they think it odd that a woman would be buying a white kirtle?” 
+
+“Of course not. They’ll assume I’m buying it for a male companion who happens 
+to be my size. Actually, I don’t think they’ll bother with any assumptions at all as long as 
+my credit tile is good.” 
+
+Seldon waited, half-expecting someone to come up and greet him as a tribesman 
+or denounce him as one-more likely— but no one did. Those who passed him did so 
+without a glance and even those who glanced in his direction moved on seemingly 
+untouched. He was especially nervous about the gray kirtles — the women-walking by in 
+pairs or, even worse, with a man. They were downtrodden, unnoticed, snubbed. How 
+better to gain a brief notoriety than by shrieking at the sight of a tribesman? But even the 
+women moved on. 
+
+They’re not expecting to see a tribesman, Seldon thought, so they don’t see one. 
+
+That, he decided, augured well for their forthcoming invasion of the Sacratorium. 
+How much less would anyone expect to see tribespeople there and how much more 
+effectively would they therefore fail to see them! 
+
+He was in fairly good humor when Dors emerged. 
+
+“You have everything?” 
+
+“Absolutely.” 
+
+“Then lets go back to the room, so you can change.” 
+
+The white kirtle did not fit her quite as well as the gray one did. Obviously, she 
+could not have tried it on or even the densest shopkeeper would have been struck with 
+alarm. 
+
+“How do I look, Hari?” she asked. 
+
+“Exactly like a boy, “ said Seldon. “Now let’s try the sash ... or obiah. I had 
+better get used to calling it that.” 
+
+Dors, without her skincap, was shaking out her hair gratefully. She said sharply, 
+“Don’t put it on now. We’re not going to parade through Mycogen with the sash on. The 
+last thing we want to do is call attention to ourselves.” 
+
+“No no. I just want to see how it goes on.” 
+
+“Well, not that one. This one is better quality and more elaborate.” 
+
+“You’re right, Dors. I’ve got to gather in what attention there is. I don’t want 
+them to detect you as a woman.” 
+
+“I’m not thinking of that, Hari. I just want you to look pretty.” 
+
+“A thousand thanks, but that’s impossible, I suspect. Now, let’s see, how does this 
+
+work?” 
+
+Together, Hari and Dors practiced putting their obiahs on and taking them off, 
+over and over again, until they could do it in one fluid motion. Dors taught Hari how to 
+do it, as she had seen a man doing it the day before at the Sacratorium. 
+
+When Hari praised her for her acute observations, she blushed and said, “Its really 
+nothing, Hari, just something I noticed.” 
+
+Hari replied, “Then you’re a genius for noticing.” 
+
+
+
+Finally satisfied, they stood well apart, each surveying the other. Hari’s obiah 
+glittered, a bright red dragonlike design standing out against a paler field of similar hue. 
+Dors’s was a little less bold, had a simple thin line down the center, and was very light in 
+color. “There, “ she said, “just enough to show good taste.” She took it off. 
+
+“Now, “ said Seldon, “we fold it up and it goes into one of the inner pockets. I 
+have my credit tile-Hummin’s, really— and the key to this place in this one and here, on 
+the other side, the Book.” 
+
+“The Book? Should you be carrying it around?” 
+
+“I must. I’m guessing that anyone going to the Sacratorium ought to have a copy 
+of the Book with him. They may intone passages or have readings. If necessary, we’ll 
+share the Book and maybe no one will notice. Ready?” 
+
+“I’ll never be ready, but I’m going with you.” 
+
+“It will be a tedious trip. Will you check my skincap and make sure no hair shows 
+this time? And don’t scratch your head.” 
+
+“I won’t. You look all right.” 
+
+“So do you.” 
+
+“You also look nervous.” 
+
+And Seldon said wryly, “Guess why!” 
+
+Dors reached out impulsively and squeezed Hari’s hand, then drew back as if 
+surprised at herself. Looking down, she straightened her white kirtle. Hari, himself a trifle 
+surprised and peculiarly pleased, cleared his throat and said, “Okay, let’s go.” 
+
+Aerie 
+
+
+ROBOT- ... A term used in the ancient legends of several worlds for what are 
+more usually called “automata.” Robots are described as generally human in shape and 
+made of metal, although some are supposed to have been pseudoorganic in nature. Hari 
+Seldon, in the course of The Flight, is popularly supposed to have seen an actual robot, 
+but that story is of dubious origin. Nowhere in Seldon’ s voluminous writings does he 
+mention robots at all, although . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+56 . 
+
+They were not noticed. 
+
+Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili repeated the trip of the day before and this time no 
+one gave them a second look. Hardly anyone even gave them a first look. On several 
+occasions, they had to tuck their knees to one side to allow someone sitting on an inner 
+seat to get past them and out. When someone got in, they quickly realized they had to 
+move over if there was an inner empty seat. 
+
+This time they quickly grew tired of the smell of kitties that were not freshly 
+laundered because they were not so easily diverted by what went on outside. 
+
+But eventually they were there. 
+
+“That’s the library, “ said Seldon in a low voice. 
+
+“I suppose so, “ said Dors. “At least that’s the building that Mycelium 
+SeventyTwo pointed out yesterday.” 
+
+
+
+They sauntered toward it leisurely. 
+
+“Take a deep breath, “ said Seldon. “This is the first hurdle.” 
+
+The door ahead was open, the light within subdued. There were five broad stone 
+steps leading upward. They stepped onto the lowermost one and waited several moments 
+before they realized that their weight did not cause the steps to move upward. Dors 
+grimaced very slightly and gestured Seldon upward. 
+
+Together they walked up the stairs, feeling embarrassed on behalf of Mycogen for 
+its backwardness. Then, through a door, where, at a desk immediately inside was a man 
+bent over the simplest and clumsiest computer Seldon had ever seen. 
+
+The man did not look up at them. No need, Seldon supposed. White kirtle, bald 
+head-all Mycogenians looked so nearly the same that one’s eyes slid off them and that 
+was to the tribespeople’s advantage at the moment. 
+
+The man, who still seemed to be studying something on the desk, said, 
+“Scholars?” 
+
+“Scholars, “ said Seldon. 
+
+The man jerked his head toward a door. “Go in. Enjoy.” 
+
+They moved inward and, as nearly as they could see, they were the only ones in 
+this section of the library. Either the library was not a popular resort or the scholars were 
+few or-most likely both. 
+
+Seldon whispered, “I thought surely we would have to present some sort of 
+license or permission form and I would have to plead having forgotten it.” 
+
+“He probably welcomes our presence under any terms. Did you ever see a place 
+like this? If a place, like a person, could be dead, we would be inside a corpse.” 
+
+Most of the books in this section were print-books like the Book in Seldon’ s inner 
+pocket. Dors drifted along the shelves, studying them. She said, “Old books, for the most 
+part. Part classic. Part worthless.” 
+
+“Outside books? Non-Mycogen, I mean?” 
+
+“Oh yes. If they have their own books, they must be kept in another section. This 
+one is for outside research for poor little selfstyled scholars like yesterday’s. -This is the 
+reference department and here’s an Imperial Encyclopedia . . . must be fifty years old if a 
+day . . . and a computer.” 
+
+She reached for the keys and Seldon stopped her. “Wait. Something could go 
+wrong and we’ll be delayed.” 
+
+He pointed to a discreet sign above a free-standing set of shelves that glowed with 
+the letters TO THE SACRATORIUM. The second A in SACRATORIUM was dead, 
+possibly recently or possibly because no one cared. (The Empire, thought Seldon, was in 
+decay. All parts of it. Mycogen too.) 
+
+He looked about. The poor library, so necessary to Mycogenian pride, perhaps so 
+useful to the Elders who could use it to find crumbs to shore up their own beliefs and 
+present them as being those of sophisticated tribespeople, seemed to be completely 
+empty. No one had entered after them. 
+
+Seldon said, “Let’s step in here, out of eyeshot of the man at the door, and put on 
+our sashes.” 
+
+And then, at the door, aware suddenly there would be no turning back if they 
+passed this second hurdle, he said, “Dors, don’t come in with me.” 
+
+She frowned. “Why not?” 
+
+
+
+“It’s not safe and I don’t want you to be at risk.” 
+
+“I am here to protect you, “ she said with soft firmness. 
+
+“What kind of protection can you be? I can protect myself, though you may not 
+think it. And I’d be handicapped by having to protect you. Don’t you see that?” 
+
+“You mustn’t be concerned about me, Hari, “ said Dors. “Concern is my part.” 
+She tapped her sash where it crossed in the space between her obscured breasts. 
+
+“Because Hummin asked you to?” 
+
+“Because those are my orders.” 
+
+She seized Seldon’s arms just above his elbow and, as always, he was surprised 
+by her firm grip. She said, “I’m against this, Hari, but if you feel you must go in, then I 
+must go in too.” 
+
+“All right, then. But if anything happens and you can wriggle out of it, run. Don’t 
+worry about me.” 
+
+“You’re wasting your breath, Hari. And you’re insulting me.” 
+
+Seldon touched the entrance panel and the portal slid open. Together, almost in 
+unison, they walked through. 
+
+57 . 
+
+A large room, all the larger because it was empty of anything resembling 
+furniture. No chairs, no benches, no seats of any kind. No stage, no drapery, no 
+decorations. 
+
+No lights, merely a uniform illumination of mild, unfocused light. The walls were 
+not entirely blank. Periodically, arranged in spaced fashion at various heights and in no 
+easy repetitive order, there were small, primitive, twodimensional television screens, all 
+of which were operating. From where Dors and Seldon stood, there was not even the 
+illusion of a third dimension, not a breath of true holovision. 
+
+There were people present. Not many and nowhere together. They stood singly 
+and, like the television monitors, in no easy repetitive order. All were white-kirtled, all 
+sashed. 
+
+For the most part, there was silence. No one talked in the usual sense. Some 
+moved their lips, murmuring softly. Those who walked did so stealthily, eyes downcast. 
+
+The atmosphere was absolutely funereal. 
+
+Seldon leaned toward Dors, who instantly put a finger to her lips, then pointed to 
+one of the television monitors. The screen showed an idyllic garden bursting with 
+blooms, the camera panning over it slowly. 
+
+They walked toward the monitor in a fashion that imitated the others-slow steps, 
+putting each foot down softly. 
+
+When they were within half a meter of the screen, a soft insinuating voice made 
+itself heard: “The garden of Antennin, as reproduced from ancient guidebooks and 
+photographs, located in the outskirts of Eos. Note the—” 
+
+Dors said in a whisper Seldon had trouble catching over the sound of the set, “It 
+turns on when someone is close and it will turn off if we step away. If we’re close 
+enough, we can talk under cover, but don’t look at me and stop speaking if anyone 
+approaches.” 
+
+Seldon, his head bent, his hands clasped before him (he had noted that this was a 
+
+
+
+preferred posture), said, “Any moment I expect someone to start wailing.” 
+
+“Someone might. They’re mourning their Lost World, “ said Dors. 
+
+“I hope they change the films every once in a while. It would be deadly to always 
+see the same ones.” 
+
+“They’re all different, “ said Dors, her eyes sliding this way and that. “They may 
+change periodically. I don’t know.” 
+
+“Wait!” said Seldon just a hair’s breadth too loud. He lowered his voice and said, 
+“Come this way.” 
+
+Dors frowned, failing to make out the words, but Seldon gestured slightly with his 
+head. Again the stealthy walk, but Seldon’s footsteps increased in length as he felt the 
+need for greater speed and Dons, catching up, pulled sharply-if very briefly-at his kirtle 
+He slowed. 
+
+“Robots here, “ he said under the cover of the sound as it came on. 
+
+The picture showed the corner of a dwelling place with a rolling lawn and a line 
+of hedges in the foreground and three of what could only be described as robots. They 
+were metallic, apparently, and vaguely human in shape. 
+
+The recording said, “This is a view, recently constructed, of the establishment of 
+the famous Wendome estate of the third century. The robot you see near the center was, 
+according to tradition, named Bendar and served twenty-two years, according to the 
+ancient records, before being replaced.” 
+
+Dors said, “‘Recently constructed, ‘ so they must change views.” 
+
+“Unless they’ve been saying 'recently constructed’ for the last thousand years.” 
+
+Another Mycogenian stepped into the sound pattern of the scene and said in a low 
+voice, though not as low as the whisperings of Seldon and Dors, “Greetings, Brothers.” 
+
+He did not look at Seldon and Dons as he spoke and after one involuntary and 
+startled glance, Seldon kept his head averted. Dors had ignored it all. 
+
+Seldon hesitated. Mycelium Seventy-Two had said that there was no talking in the 
+Sacratorium. Perhaps he had exaggerated. Then too he had not been in the Sacratorium 
+since he was a child. 
+
+Desperately, Seldon decided he must speak. He said in a whisper, “And to you, 
+Brother, greetings.” 
+
+He had no idea whether that was the correct formula of reply or if there was a 
+formula, but the Mycogenian seemed to find nothing amiss in it. 
+
+“To you in Aurora, “ he said. 
+
+“And to you, “ said Seldon and because it seemed to him that the other expected 
+more, he added, “in Aurora, “ and there was an impalpable release of tension. Seldon felt 
+his forehead growing moist. 
+
+The Mycogenian said, “Beautiful! I haven’t seen this before.” 
+
+“Skillfully done, “ said Seldon. Then, in a burst of daring, he added, “A loss never 
+to be forgotten.” 
+
+The other seemed startled, then said, “Indeed, indeed, “ and moved away. 
+
+Dors hissed, “Take no chances. Don’t say what you don’t have to.’ 
+
+“It seemed natural. Anyway, this it recent. But those are disappointing robots. 
+They are what I would expect automata to be. I want to see the organic ones-the 
+humanoids.” 
+
+“If they existed, “ said Dors with some hesitation, “it seems to me they wouldn’t 
+
+
+
+be used for gardening jobs.” 
+
+“True, “ said Seldon. “We must find the Elders’ aerie.” 
+
+“If that exists. It seems to me there is nothing in this hollow cave but a hollow 
+
+cave.” 
+
+“Let’s look.” 
+
+They paced along the wall, passing from screen to screen, trying to wait at each 
+for irregular intervals until Dors clutched Seldon’s arms. Between two screens were lines 
+marking out a faint rectangle. 
+
+“A door, “ Dors said. Then she weakened the assertion by adding, “Do you 
+
+think?” 
+
+Seldon looked about surreptitiously. It was in the highest degree convenient that, 
+in keeping with the mourning atmosphere, every face, when not fixed on a television 
+monitor, was bent in sad concentration on the floor. 
+
+Seldon said, “How do you suppose it would open?” 
+
+“An entrance patch.” 
+
+“I can’t make out any.” 
+
+“It’s just not marked out, but there’s a slight discoloration there. Do you see it? 
+How many palms? How many times?” 
+
+“I’ll try. Keep an eye out and kick me if anyone looks in this direction.” 
+
+He held his breath casually, touched the discolored spot to no avail, and then 
+placed his palm full upon it and pressed. 
+
+The door opened silently-not a creak, not a scrape. Seldon stepped through as 
+rapidly as he could and Dors followed him. The door closed behind them. 
+
+“The question is, “ said Dors, “did anyone see us?” 
+
+Seldon said, “Elders must go through this door frequently.” 
+
+“Yes, but will anyone think we are Elders?” 
+
+Seldon waited, then said, “If we were observed and if anyone thought something 
+was wrong, this door would have been flung open again within fifteen seconds of our 
+entering.” 
+
+“Possibly, “ said Dors dryly, “or possibly there is nothing to be seen or done on 
+this side of the door and no one cares if we enter.” 
+
+“That remains to be seen, “ muttered Seldon. 
+
+The rather narrow room they had entered was somewhat dark, but as they stepped 
+farther into it, the light brightened. 
+
+There were chairs, wide and comfortable, small tables, several davenports, a deep 
+and tall refrigerator, cupboards. 
+
+“If this is the Elders’ aerie, “ said Seldon, “the Elders seem to do themselves 
+comfortably, despite the austerity of the Sacratorium itself.” 
+
+“As would be expected, “ said Dors. “Asceticism among a ruling class except for 
+public show-is very rare. Put that down in your notebook for psychohistorical 
+aphorisms.” She looked about. “And there is no robot.” 
+
+Seldon said, “A aerie is a high position, remember, and this ceiling is not. There 
+must be upper storeys and that must be the way.” He pointed to a well-carpeted stairway. 
+
+He did not advance toward it, however, but looked about vaguely. 
+
+Dors guessed what he was seeking. She said, “Forget about elevators. There’s a 
+cult of primitivism in Mycogen. Surely, you haven’t forgotten that, have you? There 
+
+
+
+would be no elevators and, what’s more, if we place our weight at the foot of the stairs, I 
+am quite certain it will not begin moving upward. We’re going to have to climb it. 
+
+Several flights, perhaps.” 
+
+“Climb it?” 
+
+“It must, in the nature of things, lead to the aerie-if it leads anywhere. Do you 
+want to see the aerie or don’t you?” 
+
+Together they stepped toward the staircase and began the climb. 
+
+They went up three flights and, as they did, the light level decreased perceptibly 
+and in steady increments. Seldon took a deep breath and whispered, “I consider myself to 
+be in pretty good shape, but I hate this.” 
+
+“You’re not used to this precise type of physical exertion.” She showed no signs 
+of physical distress whatever. 
+
+At the top of the third flight the stairs ended and before them was another door. 
+
+“And if it’s locked?” said Seldon, more to himself than to Dors. “Do we try to 
+break it down?” 
+
+But Dors said, “Why should it be locked when the lower door was nor? If this is 
+the Elders’ aerie, I imagine there’s a taboo on anyone but Elders coming here and a taboo 
+is much stronger than any lock.” 
+
+“As far as those who accept the taboo are concerned, “ said Seldon, but he made 
+no move toward the door. 
+
+“There’s still time to turn back, since you hesitate, “ said Dors. “In fact, I would 
+advise you to rum back.” 
+
+“I only hesitate because I don’t know what we’ll find inside. If it’s empty—” 
+
+And then he added in a rather louder voice, “Then it’s empty, “ and he strode 
+forward and pushed against the entry panel. 
+
+The door retracted with silent speed and Seldon took a step back at the surprising 
+flood of light from within. 
+
+And there, facing him, eyes alive with light, arms half-upraised, one foot slightly 
+advanced before the other, gleaming with a faintly yellow metallic shine, was a human 
+figure. For a few moments, it seemed to be wearing a tight-fitting tunic, but on closer 
+inspection it became apparent that the tunic was part of the structure of the object. 
+
+“It’s the robot, “ said Seldon in awe, “but it’s metallic.” 
+
+“Worse than that, “ said Dors, who had stepped quickly to one side and then to the 
+other. “Its eyes don’t follow me. Its arms don’t as much as tremble. It’s not alive-if one 
+can speak of robots as being alive.” 
+
+And a man-unmistakably a man-stepped out from behind the robot and said, 
+“Perhaps not. But I am alive.” 
+
+And almost automatically, Dors stepped forward and took her place between 
+Seldon and the man who had suddenly appeared. 
+
+58 . 
+
+Seldon pushed Dors to one side, perhaps a shade more roughly than he intended. 
+
+“I don’t need protection. This is our old friend Sunmaster Fourteen.” 
+
+The man who faced them, wearing a double sash that was perhaps his right as 
+High Elder, said, “And you are Tribesman Seldon.” 
+
+
+
+“Of course, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“And this, despite her masculine dress, is Tribeswoman Venabili.” 
+
+Dors said nothing. 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen said, “You are right, of course, tribesman. You are in no 
+danger of physical harm from me. Please sit down. Both of you. Since you are not a 
+Sister, tribeswoman, you need not retire. There is a seat for you which, if you value such 
+a distinction, you will be the first woman ever to have used.” 
+
+“I do not value such a distinction, “ said Dors, spacing her words for emphasis. 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen nodded. “That is as you wish. I too will sit down, for I must 
+ask you questions and I do not care to do it standing.” 
+
+They were sitting now in a corner of the room. Seldon’s eyes wandered to the 
+metal robot. 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen said, “It if a robot.” 
+
+“I know, “ said Seldon briefly. 
+
+“I know you do, “ said Sunmaster Fourteen with similar curtness. “But now that 
+we have settled that matter, why are you here?” 
+
+Seldon gazed steadily at Sunmaster Fourteen and said, “To see the robot.” 
+
+“Do you know that no one but an Elder is allowed in the aerie?” 
+
+“ I did not know that, but I suspected it.” 
+
+“Do you know that no tribesperson is allowed in the Sacratorium?” 
+
+“I was told that.” 
+
+“And you ignored the fact, is that it?” 
+
+“As I said, we wanted to see the robot.” 
+
+“Do you know that no woman, even a Sister, is allowed in the Sacratorium except 
+at certain stated— and rare-occasions?” 
+
+“I was told that.” 
+
+“And do you know that no woman is at any time— or for any reason allowed to 
+dress in masculine garb? That holds, within the borders of Mycogen, for tribeswomen as 
+well as for Sisters.” 
+
+“I was not told that, but I am not surprised.” 
+
+“Good. I want you to understand all this. Now, why did you want to see the 
+
+robot?” 
+
+Seldon said with a shrug, “Curiosity. I had never seen a robot or even known that 
+such a thing existed.” 
+
+“And how did you come to know that it did exist and, specifically, that it existed 
+
+here?” 
+
+Seldon was silent, then said, “I do not wish to answer that question.” 
+
+“Is that why you were brought to Mycogen by Tribesman Hummin? To 
+investigate robots?” 
+
+“No. Tribesman Hummin brought us here that we might be secure. However, we 
+are scholars, Dr. Venabili and I. Knowledge is our province and to gain knowledge is our 
+purpose. Mycogen is little understood outside its borders and we wish to know more 
+about your ways and your methods of thought. It is a natural desire and, it seems to us, a 
+harmless-even praiseworthy-one.” 
+
+“Ah, but we do not wish the outer tribes and worlds to know about us. That is our 
+natural desire and we are the judge of what is harmless to us and what harmful. So I ask 
+
+
+
+you again, tribesman: 
+
+How did you know that a robot existed in Mycogen and that it existed in this 
+
+room?” 
+
+“General rumor, “ said Seldon at length. 
+
+“Do you insist on that?” 
+
+“General rumor. I insist on it.” 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen’s keen blue eyes seemed to sharpen and he said without 
+raising his voice, “Tribesman Seldon, we have long cooperated with Tribesman Hummin. 
+For a tribesman, he has seemed a decent and trustworthy individual. For a tribesman! 
+When he brought you two to us and commended you to our protection, we granted it. But 
+Tribesman Hummin, whatever his virtues, is still a tribesman and we had misgivings. We 
+were not at all sure what your — or his-real purpose might be.” 
+
+“Our purpose was knowledge, “ said Seldon. “Academic knowledge. 
+Tribeswoman Venabili is a historian and I too have an interest in history. Why should we 
+not be interested in Mycogenian history?” 
+
+“For one thing, because we do not wish you to be. -In any case, two of our trusted 
+Sisters were sent to you. They were to cooperate with you, try to find out what it was you 
+wanted, and-what is the expression you tribesmen use?-play along with you. Yet not in 
+such a way that you would be too aware as to what was happening.” Sunmaster Fourteen 
+smiled, but it was a grim smile. 
+
+“Raindrop Forty-Five, “ Sunmaster Fourteen went on, “went shopping with 
+Tribeswoman Venabili, but there seemed nothing out of the way in what happened on 
+those trips. Naturally, we had a full report. Raindrop Forty-Three showed you, Tribesman 
+Seldon, our microfarms. You might have been suspicious of her willingness to 
+accompany you alone, something that is utterly out of the question for us, but you 
+reasoned that what applied to Brothers did not apply to tribesmen and you flattered 
+yourself that that flimsy bit of reasoning won her over. She complied with your desire, 
+though at considerable cost to her peace of mind. And, eventually, you asked for the 
+Book. To have handed it over too easily might have roused your suspicion, so she 
+pretended to a perverse desire only you could satisfy. Her self-sacrifice will not be 
+forgotten. -I take it, tribesman, you still have the Book and I suspect you have it with you 
+now. May I have it?” 
+
+Seldon sat in bitter silence. 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen’s wrinkled hand remained obtrusively outstretched and he 
+said, “How much better it would be than to wrest it from you by force.” 
+
+And Seldon handed it over. Sunmaster Fourteen leafed through its pages briefly, 
+as though to reassure himself it was unharmed. 
+
+He said with a small sigh, “It will have to be carefully destroyed in the approved 
+manner. Sad’, —but once you had this Book, we were, of course, not surprised when you 
+made your way out to the Sacratorium. You were watched at all times, for you cannot 
+think that any Brother or Sister, not totally absorbed, would not recognize you for 
+tribespeople at a glance. We know a skincap when we see one and there are less than 
+seventy of them in Mycogen . . . almost all belonging to tribesmen on official business 
+who remain entirely in secular governmental buildings during the time they are here. So 
+you were not only seen but unmistakably identified, over and over. 
+
+“The elderly Brother who met you was careful to tell you about the library as well 
+
+
+
+as about the Sacratorium, but he was also careful to tell you what you were forbidden to 
+do, for we did not wish to entrap you. Skystrip Two also warned you . . . and quite 
+forcibly. Nevertheless, you did not turn away. 
+
+“The shop at which you bought the white kirtle and the two sashes informed us at 
+once and from that we knew well what you intended. The library was kept empty, the 
+librarian was warned to keep his eyes to himself, the Sacratorium was kept under- 
+utilized. The one Brother who inadvertently spoke to you almost gave it away, but 
+hastened off when he realized with whom he was dealing. And then you came up here. 
+
+“You see, then, that it was your intention to come up here and that we in no way 
+lured you here. You came as a result of your own action, your own desire, and what I 
+want to ask you-yet once again-is: Why?” 
+
+It was Dors who answered this time, her voice firm, her eyes hard. “We will tell 
+you yet once again, Mycogenian. We are scholars, who consider knowledge sacred and it 
+is only knowledge that we seek. You did not lure us here, but you did not stop us either, 
+as you might have done before ever we approached this building. You smoothed our way 
+and made it easy for us and even that might be considered a lure. And what harm have we 
+done? We have in no way disturbed the building, or this room, or you, or that.” 
+
+She pointed to the robot. “It is a dead lump of metal that you hide here and we 
+now know that it is dead and that is all the knowledge we sought. We thought it would be 
+more significant and we are disappointed, but now that we know it is merely what it is, 
+we will leave-and, if you wish, we will leave Mycogen as well.” 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen listened with no trace of expression on his face, but when she 
+was done, he addressed Seldon, saying, “This robot, as you see it, is a symbol, a symbol 
+of all we have lost and of all we no longer have, of all that, through thousands of years, 
+we have not forgotten and what we intend someday to return to. Because it is all that 
+remains to us that is both material and authentic, it is dear to us-yet to your woman it is 
+only ‘a dead lump of metal.’ Do you associate yourself with that judgment, Tribesman 
+Seldon?” 
+
+Seldon said, “We are members of societies that do not tie ourselves to a past that 
+is thousands of years old, making no contact at all with what has existed between that 
+past and ourselves. We live in the present, which we recognize as the product of al! the 
+past and not of one long-gone moment of time that we hug to our chests. We realize, 
+intellectually, what the robot may mean to you and we are willing to let it continue to 
+mean that to you. But we can only see it with our own eyes, as you can only see it with 
+yours. To us, it is a dead lump of metal.” 
+
+“And now, “ said Dors, “we will leave.” 
+
+“You will not, “ said Sunmaster Fourteen. “By coming here, you have committed 
+a crime. It is a crime only in our eyes, as you will hasten to point out”-his lips curved in a 
+wintry smile “but this is our territory and, within it, we make the definitions. And this 
+crime, as we define it, is punishable by death.” 
+
+“And you are going to shoot us down?” said Dors haughtily. 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen’s expression was one of contempt and he continued to speak 
+only to Seldon. “What do you think we are, Tribesman Seldon? Our culture is as old as 
+yours, as complex, as civilized, as humane. I am not armed. You will be tried and, since 
+you are manifestly guilty, executed according to law, quickly and painlessly. 
+
+“If you were to try to leave now, I would not stop you, but there are many 
+
+
+
+Brothers below, many more than there appeared to be when you entered the Sacratorium 
+and, in their rage at your action, they may lay rough and forceful hands on you. It has 
+happened in our history that tribespeople have even died so and it is not a pleasant death- 
+certainly not a painless one.” 
+
+“We were warned of this, “ said Dors, “by Skystrip Two. So much for your 
+complex, civilized, and humane culture.” 
+
+“People can be moved to violence at moments of emotion, Tribesman Seldon, “ 
+said Sunmaster Fourteen calmly, “whatever their humanity in moments of calm. This is 
+true in every culture, as your woman, who is said to be a historian, must surely know.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Let us remain reasonable, Sunmaster Fourteen. You may be the law 
+in Mycogen over local affairs, but you are not the law over us and you know it. We are 
+both non-Mycogenian citizens of the Empire and it is the Emperor and his designated 
+legal officers who must remain in charge of any capital offense.” 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen said, “That may be so in statutes and on papers and on 
+holovision screens, but we are not talking theory now. The High Elder has long had the 
+power to punish crimes of sacrilege without interference from the Imperial throne.” 
+
+“If the criminals are your own people, “ said Seldom “It would be quite different 
+if they were outsiders.” 
+
+“I doubt it in this case. Tribesman Hummin brought you here as fugitives and we 
+are not so yeast-headed in Mycogen that we don’t strongly suspect that you are fugitives 
+from the Emperor’s laws. Why should he object if we do his work for him?” 
+
+“Because, “ said Seldon, “he would. Even if we were fugitives from the Imperial 
+authorities and even if he wanted us only to punish us, he would still want us. To allow 
+you to kill, by whatever means and for whatever reason, non-Mycogenians without due 
+Imperial process would be to defy his authority and no Emperor could allow such a 
+precedent. No matter how eager he might be to see that the microfood trade not be 
+interrupted, he would still feel it necessary to re-establish the Imperial prerogative. Do 
+you wish, in your eagerness to kill us, to hove a division of Imperial soldiery loot your 
+farms and your dwellings, desecrate your Sacratorium, and take liberties with the Sisters: 
+Consider.” 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen smiled once again, but displayed no softness. “Actually, I 
+have considered and there is an alternative. After we condemn you, we could delay your 
+execution to allow you to appeal to the Emperor for a review of your case. The Emperor 
+might be grateful at this evidence of our ready submission to his authority and grateful 
+too to lay his hands on you two-for some reason of his own— and Mycogen might profit. 
+Is that what you want, then? To appeal to the Emperor in due course and to be delivered 
+to him?” 
+
+Seldon and Dors looked at each other briefly and were silent. 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen said, “I feel you would rather be delivered to the Emperor 
+than die, but why do I get the impression that the preference is only by a slight margin?” 
+
+“Actually, “ said a new voice, “I think neither alternative is acceptable and that 
+we must search for a third.” 
+
+59 . 
+
+
+It was Dors who identified the newcomer first, perhaps because it was she who 
+
+
+
+expected him. 
+
+“Hummin, “ she said, “thank goodness you found us. I got in touch with you the 
+moment I realized I was not going to deflect Hari from”-she held up her hands in a wide 
+gesture “this.” 
+
+Hummin’ s smile was a small one that did not alter the natural gravity of his face. 
+There was a subtle weariness about him. 
+
+“My dear, “ he said, “I was engaged in other things. I cannot always pull away at 
+a moment’s notice. And when I got here, I had, like you two, to supply myself with a 
+kirde and sash, to say nothing of a skincap, and make my way out here. Had I been here 
+earlier, I might have stopped this, but I believe I’m not too late.” 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen had recovered from what had seemed to be a painful shock. 
+He said in a voice that lacked its customary severe depth, “How did you get in here, 
+Tribesman Hummin?” 
+
+“It was not easy, High Elder, but as Tribeswoman Venabili likes to say, I am a 
+very persuasive person. Some of the citizens here remember who I was and what I have 
+done for Mycogen in the past, that I am even an honorary Brother. Have you forgotten, 
+Sunmaster Fourteen?” 
+
+The Elder replied, “I have not forgotten, but even the most favorable memory can 
+not survive certain actions. A tribesman here and a tribeswoman. There is no greater 
+crime. All you have done is not great enough to balance that. My people are not 
+unmindful. We will make it up to you some other way. But these two must die or be 
+handed over to the Emperor.” 
+
+“I am also here, “ said Hummin calmly. “Is that not a crime as well?” 
+
+“For you, “ said Sunmaster Fourteen, “for you personally, as a kind of honorary 
+Brother, I can . . . overlook it . . . once. Not these two.’ 
+
+“Because you expect a reward from the Emperor? Some favor? Some concession? 
+Have you already been in touch with him or with his Chief of Staff, Eto Demerzel, more 
+likely?” 
+
+“That is not a subject for discussion.” 
+
+“Which is itself an admission. Come on, I don’t ask what the Emperor promised, 
+but it cannot be much. He does not have much to give in these degenerate days. Let me 
+make you an offer. Have these two told you they are scholars?” 
+
+“They have.” 
+
+“And they are. They are not lying. The tribeswoman is a historian and the 
+tribesman is a mathematician. The two together are trying to combine their talents to 
+make a mathematics of history and they call the combined subject ‘psychohistory.’ “ 
+
+Sunmaster Fourteen said, “I know nothing about this psychohistory, nor do I care 
+to know. Neither it nor any other facet of your tribal learning interests me.” 
+
+“Nevertheless, “ said Hummin, “I suggest that you listen to me.” 
+
+It took Hummin some fifteen minutes, speaking concisely, to describe the 
+possibility of organizing the natural laws of society (something he always mentioned with 
+audible quotation marks in the tone of his voice) in such a way as to make it possible to 
+anticipate the future with a substantial degree of probability. 
+
+And when he was done, Sunmaster Fourteen, who had listened expressionlessly, 
+said, “A highly unlikely piece of speculation, I should say.” 
+
+Seldon, with a rueful expression, seemed about to speak, undoubtedly to agree, 
+
+
+
+but Hummin’s hand, resting lightly on the other’s knee, tightened unmistakably. 
+
+Hummin said, “Possibly, High Elder, but the Emperor doesn’t think so. And by 
+the Emperor, who is himself an amiable enough personage, I really mean Demerzel, 
+concerning whose ambitions you need no instruction. They would like very much to have 
+these two scholars, which is why I’ve brought them here for safekeeping. I had little 
+expectation that you would do Demerzel’s work for him by delivering the scholars to 
+him.” 
+
+“They have committed a crime that—” 
+
+“Yes, we know, High Elder, but it is only a crime because you choose to call it so. 
+No real harm has been done.” 
+
+“It has been done to our belief, to our deepest felt—” 
+
+“But imagine what harm will be done if psychohistory falls into the hands of 
+Demerzel. Yes, I grant that nothing may come of it, but suppose for a moment that 
+something does and that the Imperial government has the use of it-can foretell what is to 
+come-can take measures with that foreknowledge which no one else would have-can take 
+measures, in fact, designed to bring about an alternate future more to the Imperial liking.” 
+
+“Well?” 
+
+“Is there any doubt, High Elder, that the alternate furore more to the Imperial 
+liking would be one of tightened centralization? For centuries now, as you very well 
+know, the Empire has been undergoing a steady decentralization. Many worlds now 
+acknowledge only lip service to the Emperor and virtually rule themselves. Even here on 
+Trantor, there is decentralization. Mycogen, as only one example, is free of Imperial 
+interference for the most part. You rule its High Elder and there is no Imperial officer at 
+your side overseeing your actions and decisions. How long do you think that will last 
+with men like Demerzel adjusting the furore to their liking?” 
+
+“Still the flimsiest of speculation, “ said Sunmaster Fourteen, “but an disturbing 
+one, I admit.” 
+
+“On the other hand, if these scholars can complete their task, an unlikely if, you 
+might say, but an if-then they are sure to remember that you spared them when you might 
+have chosen not to. And it would then be conceivable that they would learn to arrange a 
+future, for instance, that would allow Mycogen to be given a world of its own, a world 
+that could be terraformed into a close replica of the Lost World. And even if these two 
+forget your kindness, I will be here to remind them.” 
+
+“Well—” said Sunmaster Fourteen. 
+
+“Come on, “ said Hummin, “it is not hard to decide what must be going through 
+your mind. Of all tribespeople, you must trust Demerzel the least. And though the chance 
+of psychohistory might be small (if I was not being honest with you, I would not admit 
+that) it is not zero; and if it will bring about a restoration of the Lost World, what can you 
+want more than that? What would you not risk for even a tiny chance of that? Come now- 
+I promise you and my promises are not lightly given. Release these two and choose a tiny 
+chance of your heart’s desire over no chance at all.” 
+
+There was silence and then Sunmaster Fourteen sighed. “I don’t know how it is, 
+Tribesman Hummin, but on every occasion that we meet, you persuade me into 
+something I do not really want to do.” 
+
+“Have I ever misled you, High Elder?” 
+
+“You have never offered me so small a chance?” 
+
+
+
+“And so high a possible reward. The one balances the other.” 
+
+And Sunmaster Fourteen nodded his head. “You are right. Take these two and 
+take them out of Mycogen and never let me see them again unless there comes a time 
+when— but surely it will not be in my lifetime.” 
+
+“Perhaps not, High Elder. But your people have been waiting patiently for nearly 
+twenty thousand years. Would you then object to waiting another-perhaps-two hundred?” 
+
+“I would not willingly wait one moment, but my people will wait as long as they 
+
+must.” 
+
+And standing up, he said, “I will clear the path. Take them and go. “ 
+
+60 . 
+
+They were finally back in a tunnel. Hummin and Seldon had traveled through one 
+when they went from the Imperial Sector to Streeling University in the air-taxi. Now they 
+were in another tunnel, going from Mycogen to . . . Seldon did not know where. He 
+hesitated to ask. Hummin’s face seemed as if it was carved out of granite and it didn’t 
+welcome conversation. 
+
+Hummin sat in the front of the four-seater, with no one to his right. Seldon and 
+Dors shared the backseat. 
+
+Seldon chanced a smile at Dors, who looked glum. “It’s nice to be in real clothes 
+again, isn’t it?” 
+
+“I will never, “ said Dors with enormous sincerity, “wear or look at anything that 
+resembles a kirtle. And I will never, under any circumstances, wear a skincap. In fact, I’m 
+going to feel odd if I ever see a normally bald man.” 
+
+And it was Dors who finally asked the question that Seldon had been reluctant to 
+advance. “Chetter, “ she said rather petulantly, “why won’t you tell us where we’re 
+going?” 
+
+Hummin hitched himself into a sideways position and he looked back at Dors and 
+Seldon gravely. “Somewhere, “ he said, “where it may be difficult for you to get into 
+trouble-although I’m not sure such a place exists.” 
+
+Dors was at once crestfallen. “Actually, Chetter, it’s my fault. At Streeling, I let 
+Hari go Upperside without accompanying him. In Mycogen, I at least accompanied him, 
+but I suppose I ought not to have let him enter the Sacra torium at all.” 
+
+“I was determined, “ said Seldon warmly. “It was in no way Dors’s fault.” 
+
+Hummin made no effort to apportion blame. He simply said, “I gather you wanted 
+to see the robot. Was there a reason for that? Can you tell me?” 
+
+Seldon could feel himself redden. “ I was wrong in that respect, Hummin. I did 
+not see what I expected to see or what I hoped to see. If I had known the content of the 
+aerie, I would never have bothered going there. Call it a complete fiasco.” 
+
+“But then, Seldon, what was it you hoped to see? Please tell me. 
+
+Take your time if you wish. This is a long trip and I am willing to listen.” 
+
+“The thing is, Hummin, that I had the idea that there were humaniform robots, 
+that they were long-lived, that at least one might still be alive, and that it might be in the 
+aerie. There was a robot there, but it was metallic, it was dead, and it was merely a 
+symbol. Had I but known—” 
+
+“Yes. Did we all but know, there would be no need for questions or for research 
+
+
+
+of any kind. Where did you get your information about humaniform robots? Since no 
+Mycogenian would have discussed that with you, I can think of only one source. The 
+Mycogenian Book-a powered print-book in ancient Auroran and modern Galactic. Am I 
+right?” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+“And how did you get a copy?” 
+
+Seldon paused, then muttered, “Its somewhat embarrassing.” 
+
+“I am not easily embarrassed, Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon told him and Hummin allowed a very small smile to twitch across his face. 
+
+Hummin said, “Didn’t it occur to you that what occurred had to be a charade? No 
+Sister would do a thing like that-except under instruction and with a great deal of 
+persuading.” 
+
+Seldon frowned and said with asperity, “That was not at all obvious. People are 
+perverted now and then. And its easy for you to grin. I didn’t have the information you 
+had and neither did Dors. If you did not wish me to fall into traps, you might have warned 
+me of those that existed.” 
+
+“I agree. I withdraw my remark. In any case, you don’t have the Book any longer, 
+I’m sure.” 
+
+“No. Sunmaster Fourteen took it from me.” 
+
+“How much of it did you read?” 
+
+“Only a small fraction. I didn’t have time. It’s a huge book and I must tell you, 
+Hummin, it is dreadfully dull.” 
+
+“Yes, I know that, for I think I have read more of it than you have. It is not only 
+dull, it is totally unreliable. It is a one-sided, official Mycogenian view of history that is 
+more intent on presenting that view than a reasoned objectivity. It is even deliberately 
+unclear in spots so that outsiders-even if they were to read the Book-would never know 
+entirely what they read. What was it, for instance, that you thought you read about robots 
+that interested you?” 
+
+“I’ve already told you. They speak of humaniform robots, robots that could not be 
+distinguished from human beings in outward appearance.” 
+
+“How many of these would exist?” asked Hummin. 
+
+“They don’t say. -At least, I didn’t come across a passage in which they gave 
+numbers. There may have been only a handful, but one of them, the Book refers to as 
+‘Renegade.’ It seems to have an unpleasant significance, but I couldn’t make out what.” 
+
+“You didn’t tell me anything about that, “ interposed Dors. “If you had, I would 
+have told you that it’s not a proper name. It’s another archaic word and it means, roughly, 
+what ‘traitor’ would mean in Galactic. The older word has a greater aura of fear about it. 
+A traitor, somehow, sneaks to his treason, but a renegade flaunts it. •. 
+
+Hummin said, “I’ll leave the fine points of archaic language to you, Dors, but, in 
+any case, if the Renegade actually existed and if it was a humaniform robot, then, clearly, 
+as a traitor and enemy, it would not be preserved and venerated in the Elders’ aerie.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I didn’t know the meaning of ‘Renegade, ‘ but, as I said, I did get 
+the impression that it was an enemy. I thought it might have been defeated and preserved 
+as a reminder of the Mycogenian triumph.” 
+
+“Was there any indication in the Book that the Renegade was defeated?” 
+
+“No, but I might have missed that portion—” 
+
+
+
+“Not likely. Any Mycogenian victory would be announced in the Book 
+unmistakably and referred to over and over again.” 
+
+“There was another point the Book made about the Renegade, “ said Seldon, 
+hesitating, “but I can’t be at all sure I understood it.” 
+
+Hummin said, “As I told you . . . They are deliberately obscure at times.” 
+
+“Nevertheless, they seemed to say that the Renegade could somehow tap human 
+emotions . . . influence them—” 
+
+“Any politician can, “ said Hummin with a shrug. “It’s called charisma-when it 
+works.” 
+
+Seldon sighed. “Well, I wanted to believe. That was it. I would have given a great 
+deal to find an ancient humaniform robot that was still alive and that I could question.” 
+
+“For what purpose?” asked Hummin. 
+
+“To learn the details of the primordial Galactic society when it still consisted of 
+only a handful of worlds. From so small a Galaxy psychohistory could be deduced more 
+easily.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Are you sure you could trust what you heard? After many 
+thousands of years, would you be willing to rely on the robot’s early memories? How 
+much distortion would have entered into them?” 
+
+“That’s right, “ said Dors suddenly. “It would be like the computerized records I 
+told you of, Hari. Slowly, those robot memories would be discarded, lost, erased, 
+distorted. You can only go back so far and the farther you go back, the less reliable the 
+information becomes-no matter what you do.” 
+
+Hummin nodded. “I’ve heard it referred to as a kind of uncertainty principle in 
+information.” 
+
+“But wouldn’t it be possible, “ said Seldon thoughtfully, “that some information, 
+for special reasons, would be preserved? Parts of the Mycogenian Book may well refer to 
+events of twenty thousand years ago and yet be very largely as it had been originally. The 
+more valued and the more carefully preserved particular information is, the more long- 
+lasting and accurate it may be.” 
+
+“The key word is ‘particular.’ What the Book may care to preserve may not be 
+what you wish to have preserved and what a robot may remember best may be what you 
+wish him to remember least.” 
+
+Seldon said in despair, “In whatever direction I turn to seek a way of working out 
+psychohistory, matters so arrange themselves as to make it impossible. Why bother 
+trying?” 
+
+“It might seem hopeless now, “ said Hummin unemotionally, “but given the 
+necessary genius, a route to psychohistory may be found that none of us would at this 
+moment expect. Give yourself more time, —but we’re coming to a rest area. Let us pull 
+off and have dinner.” 
+
+Over the lamb patties on rather tasteless bread (most unpalatable after the fare at 
+Mycogen), Seldon said, “You seem to assume, Hummin, that I am the possessor of ‘the 
+necessary genius.’ I may not be, you know.” 
+
+Hummin said, “That’s true. You may not be. However, I know of no alternate 
+candidate for the post, so I must cling to you.” 
+
+And Seldon sighed and said, “Well, I’ll try, but I’m out of any spark of hope. 
+Possible but not practical, I said to begin with, and I’m more convinced of that now than I 
+
+
+
+ever was before.” 
+
+
+Heatsink 
+
+
+AMARYL, YUGO- ... A mathematician who, next to Hari Seldon himself, may 
+be considered most responsible for working out the details of psychohistory. It was he 
+who . . . 
+
+... Yet the conditions under which he began life are almost more dramatic than 
+his mathematical accomplishments. Born into the hopeless poverty of the lower classes of 
+Dahl, a sector of ancient Tractor, he might have passed his life in utter obscurity were it 
+not for the fact that Seldon, quite by accident, encountered him in the course of . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+61 . 
+
+The Emperor of all the Galaxy felt weary-physically weary. His lips ached from 
+the gracious smile he had had to place on his face at careful intervals. His neck was stiff 
+from having inclined his head this way and that in a feigned show of interest. His ears 
+pained from having to listen. His whole body throbbed from having to rise and to sit and 
+to turn and to hold out his hand and to nod. 
+
+It was merely a state function where one had to meet Mayors and Viceroys and 
+Ministers and their wives or husbands from here and there in Trantor and (worse) from 
+here and there in the Galaxy. There were nearly a thousand present, all in costumes that 
+varied from the ornate to the downright outlandish, and he had had to listen to a babble of 
+different accents made the worse by an effort to speak the Emperor’s Galactic as spoken 
+at the Galactic University. Worst of all, the Emperor had had to remember to avoid 
+making commitments of substance, while freely applying the lotion of words without 
+substance. 
+
+All had been recorded, sight and sound-very discreetly— and Eto Demerzel would 
+go over it to see if Cleon, First of that Name, had behaved himself. That, of course, was 
+only the way that the Emperor put it to himself. Demerzel would surely say that he was 
+merely collecting data on any unintentional self-revelation on the pan of the guests. And 
+perhaps he was. 
+
+Fortunate Demerzel! 
+
+The Emperor could not leave the Palace and its extensive grounds, while 
+Demerzel could range the Galaxy if he wished. The Emperor was always on display, 
+always accessible, always forced to deal with visitors, from the important to the merely 
+intrusive. Demerzel remained anonymous and never allowed himself to be seen inside the 
+Palace grounds. He remained merely a fearsome name and an invisible (and therefore the 
+more frightening) presence. 
+
+The Emperor was the Inside Man with all the trappings and emoluments of power. 
+Demerzel was the Outside Man, with nothing evident, not even a formal title, but with his 
+fingers and mind probing everywhere and asking for no reward for his tireless labors but 
+one-the reality of power. 
+
+It amused the Emperor-in a macabre sort of way-to consider that, at any moment, 
+without warning, with a manufactured excuse or with none at all, he could have Demerzel 
+
+
+
+arrested, imprisoned, exiled, tortured, or executed. After all, in these annoying centuries 
+of constant unrest, the Emperor might have difficulty in exerting his will over the various 
+planets of the Empire, even over the various sectors of Trantor-with their rabble of local 
+executives and legislatures that he was forced to deal with in a maze of interlocking 
+decrees, protocols, commitments, treaties, and general interstellar legalities— but at least 
+his powers remained absolute over the Palace and its grounds. 
+
+And yet Cleon knew that his dreams of power were useless. Demerzel had served 
+his father and Cleon could not remember a time when he did not turn to Demerzel for 
+everything. It was Demerzel who knew it all, devised it all, did it all. More than that, it 
+was on Demerzel that anything that went wrong could be blamed. The Emperor himself 
+remained above criticism and had nothing to fear except, of course, palace coups and 
+assassination by his nearest and dearest. It was to prevent this, above all, that he 
+depended upon Demerzel. 
+
+Emperor Cleon felt a tiny shudder at the thought of trying to do without 
+Demerzel. There had been Emperors who had ruled personally, who had had a series of 
+Chiefs of Staff of no talent, who had had incompetents serving in the post and had kept 
+them— and somehow they had gotten along for a time and after a fashion. 
+
+But Cleon could not. He needed Demerzel. In fact, now that the thought of 
+assassination had come to him-and, in view of the modern history of the Empire, it was 
+inevitable that it had come to him-he could see that getting rid of Demerzel was quite 
+impossible. It couldn’t be done. No matter how cleverly he, Cleon, would attempt to 
+arrange it, Demerzel (he was sure) would anticipate the move somehow, would know it 
+was on its way, and would arrange, with far superior cleverness, a palace coup. Cleon 
+would be dead before Demerzel could possibly be taken away in chains and there would 
+simply be another Emperor that Demerzel would serve and dominate. 
+
+Or would Demerzel tire of the game and make himself Emperor? 
+
+Never! The habit of anonymity was too strong in him. If Demerzel exposed 
+himself to the world, then his powers, his wisdom, his luck (whatever it was) would 
+surely desert him. Cleon was convinced of that. He felt it to be beyond dispute. 
+
+So while he behaved himself, Cleon was safe. With no ambitions of his own, 
+Demerzel would serve him faithfully. 
+
+And now here was Demerzel, dressed so severely and simply that it made Cleon 
+uneasily conscious of the useless ornamentation of his robes of state, now thankfully 
+removed with the aid of two valets. Naturally, it would not be until he was alone and in 
+dishabille that Demerzel would glide into view. 
+
+“Demerzel, “ said the Emperor of all the Galaxy, “I am tired!” 
+
+“State functions are tiring, Sire, “ murmured Demerzel. 
+
+“Then must I have them every evening?” 
+
+“Not every evening, but they are essential. It gratifies others to see you and to be 
+taken note of by you. It helps keep the Empire running smoothly.” 
+
+“The Empire used to be kept running smoothly by power, “ said the Emperor 
+somberly. “Now it must be kept running by a smile, a wave of the hand, a murmured 
+word, and a medal or a plaque.” 
+
+“If all that keeps the peace, Sire, there is much to be said for it. And your reign 
+proceeds well.” 
+
+“You know why-because I have you at my side. My only real gift is that I am 
+
+
+
+aware of your importance.” He looked at Demerzel slyly. “My son need not be my heir. 
+He is not a talented boy. What if I make you my heir?” 
+
+Demerzel said freezingly, “Sire, that is unthinkable. I would not usurp the throne. 
+
+I would not steal it from your rightful heir. Besides, if I have displeased you, punish me 
+justly. Surely, nothing I have done or could possibly do deserves the punishment of being 
+made Emperor.” 
+
+Cleon laughed. “For that true assessment of the value of the Imperial throne, 
+Demerzel, I abandon any thought of punishing you. Come now, let us talk about 
+something. I would sleep, but I am not yet ready for the ceremonies with which they put 
+me to bed. Let us talk.” 
+
+“About what, Sire?” 
+
+“About anything. -About that mathematician and his psychohistory. I think about 
+him every once in a while, you know. I thought of him at dinner tonight. I wondered: 
+What if a psychohistorical analysis would predict a method for making it possible to be 
+an Emperor without endless ceremony?” 
+
+“I somehow think, Sire, that even the cleverest psychohistorian could not manage 
+
+that.” 
+
+“Well, tell me the latest. Is he still hiding among those peculiar baldheads of 
+Mycogen? You promised you would winkle him out of there.” 
+
+“So I did, Sire, and I moved in that direction, but I regret that I must say that I 
+
+failed.” 
+
+“Failed?” The Emperor allowed himself to frown. “I don’t like that. “ 
+
+“Nor I, Sire. I planned to have the mathematician be encouraged to commit some 
+blasphemous act-such acts are easy to commit in Mycogen, especially for an outsider-one 
+that would call for severe punishment. The mathematician would then be forced to appeal 
+to the Emperor and, as a result, we would get him. I planned it at the cost of insignificant 
+concessions on our part-important to Mycogen, totally unimportant to us — and I meant to 
+play no direct role in the arrangement. It was to be handled subtly.” 
+
+“I dare say, “ said Cleon, “but it failed. Did the Mayor of Mycogen 
+
+“He is called the High Elder, Sire.” 
+
+“Do not quibble over titles. Did this High Elder refuse?” 
+
+“On the contrary, Sire, he agreed and the mathematician, Seldon, fell into the trap 
+neatly.” 
+
+“Well then?” 
+
+“He was allowed to leave unharmed.” 
+
+“Why?” said Cleon indignantly. 
+
+“Of this I am not certain, Sire, but I suspect we were outbid.” 
+
+“By whom? By the Mayor of Wye?” 
+
+“Possibly, Sire, but I doubt that. I have Wye under constant surveillance. If they 
+had gained the mathematician, I would know it by now.” 
+
+The Emperor was not merely frowning. He was clearly enraged. “Demerzel, this 
+is bad. I am greatly displeased. A failure like this makes me wonder if you are perhaps 
+not the man you once were. What measures shall we take against Mycogen for this clear 
+defiance of the Emperor’s wishes?” 
+
+Demerzel bowed low in recognition of the storm unleashed, but he said in steely 
+tones, “It would be a mistake to move against Mycogen now, Sire. The disruption that 
+
+
+
+would follow would play into the hands of Wye.” 
+
+“But we must do something. “ 
+
+“Perhaps not, Sire. It is not as bad as it may seem.” 
+
+“How can it be not as bad as it seems?” 
+
+“You’ll remember, Sire, that this mathematician was convinced that 
+psychohistory was impractical.” 
+
+“Of course I remember that, but that doesn’t matter, does it? For our purposes?” 
+
+“Perhaps not. But if it were to become practical, it would serve our purposes to an 
+infinitely great extent, Sire. And from what I have been able to find out, the 
+mathematician is now attempting to make psychohistory practical. His blasphemous 
+attempt in Mycogen was, I understand, part of an attempt at solving the problem of 
+psychohistory. In that case, it may pay us, Sire, to leave him to himself. It will serve us 
+better to pick him up when he is closer to his goal or has reached it.” 
+
+“Not if Wye gets him first.” 
+
+“That, I shall see to it, will not happen.” 
+
+“In the same way that you succeeded in winkling the mathematician out of 
+Mycogen just now?” 
+
+“I will not make a mistake the next time, Sire, “ said Demerzel coldly. 
+
+The Emperor said, “Demerzel, you had better not. I will not tolerate another 
+mistake in this respect.” And then he added pettishly, “I think I shall not sleep tonight 
+after all.” 
+
+62 . 
+
+Jirad Tisalver of the Dahl Sector was short. The top of his head came up only to 
+Hari Seldon’s nose. He did not seem to take that to heart, however. He had handsome, 
+even features, was given to smiling, and sported a thick black mustache and crisply 
+curling black hair. 
+
+He lived, with his wife and a half-grown daughter, in an apartment of seven small 
+rooms, kept meticulously clean, but almost bare of furnishings. 
+
+Tisalver said, “I apologize, Master Seldon and Mistress Venabili, that I cannot 
+give you the luxury to which you must be accustomed, but Dahl is a poor sector and I am 
+not even among the better-off among our people.” 
+
+“The more reason, “ responded Seldon, “that we must apologize to you for 
+placing the burden of our presence upon you.” 
+
+“No burden, Master Seldon. Master Hummin has arranged to pay us generously 
+for your use of our humble quarters and the credits would be welcome even if you were 
+not— and you are. “ 
+
+Seldon remembered Hummin’ s parting words when they finally arrived in Dahl. 
+
+“Seldom” he had said, “this is the third place I’ve arranged as sanctuary. The first 
+two were notoriously beyond the reach of the Imperium, which might well have served to 
+attract their attention; after all, they were logical places for you. This one is different. It is 
+poor, unremarkable, and, as a matter of fact, unsafe in some ways. It is not a natural 
+refuge for you, so that the Emperor and his Chief of Staff may not think to turn their eyes 
+in this direction. Would you mind staying out of trouble this time, then?” 
+
+“I will try, Hummin, “ said Seldon, a little offended. “Please be aware that the 
+
+
+
+trouble is not of my seeking. I am trying to learn what may well take me thirty lifetimes 
+to learn if I am to have the slightest chance of organizing psychohistory.” 
+
+“I understand, “ said Hummin. “Your efforts at learning brought you to Upperside 
+in Streeling and to the Elders’ aerie in Mycogen and to who can guess where in Dahl. As 
+for you, Dr. Venabili, I know you’ve been trying to take care of Seldon, but you must try 
+harder. Get it fixed in your head that he is the most important person on Trantor— or in the 
+Galaxy, for that matter— and that he must be kept secure at any cost.” 
+
+“I will continue to do my best, “ said Dors stiffly. 
+
+“And as for your host family, they have their peculiarities, but they are essentially 
+good people with whom I have dealt before. Try not to get them in trouble either.” 
+
+But Tisalver, at least, did not seem to anticipate trouble of any kind from his new 
+tenants and his expressed pleasure at the company he now had-quite apart from the rent 
+credits he would be getting-seemed quite sincere. 
+
+He had never been outside Dahl and his appetite for tales of distant places was 
+enormous. His wife too, bowing and smiling, would listen and their daughter, with a 
+finger in her mouth, would allow one eye to peep from behind the door. 
+
+It was usually after dinner, when the entire family assembled, that Seldon and 
+Dors were expected to talk of the outside world. The food was plentiful enough, but it 
+was bland and often tough. So soon after the tangy food of Mycogen, it was all but 
+inedible. 
+
+The “table” was a long shelf against one wall and they ate standing up. 
+
+Gentle questioning by Seldon elicited the fact that this was the usual situation 
+among Dahlites as a whole and was not due to unusual poverty. Of course, Mistress 
+Tisalver explained, there were those with high government jobs in Dahl who were prone 
+to adopt all kinds of effete customs like chairs-she called them “body shelves”— but this 
+was looked down upon by the solid middle class. 
+
+Much as they disapproved of unnecessary luxury, though, the Tisalvers loved 
+hearing about it, listening with a virtual storm of tongueclicking when told of mattresses 
+lifted on legs, of ornate chests and wardrobes, and of a superfluity of tableware. 
+
+They listened also to a description of Mycogenian customs, while Jirad Tisalver 
+stroked his own hair complacently and made it quite obvious that he would as soon think 
+of emasculation as of depilation. Mistress Tisalver was furious at any mention of female 
+subservience and flatly refused to believe that the Sisters accepted it tranquilly. 
+
+They seized most, however, on Seldon’ s. casual reference to the Imperial 
+grounds. When, upon questioning, it turned out that Seldon had actually seen and spoken 
+to the Emperor, a blanket of awe enveloped the family. It took a while before they dared 
+ask questions and Seldon found that he could not satisfy them. He had not, after all, seen 
+much of the grounds and even less of the Palace interior. 
+
+That disappointed the Tisalvers and they were unremitting in their attempts to 
+elicit more. And, having heard of Seldon’s Imperial adventure, they found it hard to 
+believe Dors’s assertion that, for her part, she had never been anywhere in the Imperial 
+grounds. Most of all, they rejected Seldon’s casual comment that the Emperor had talked 
+and behaved very much as any ordinary human being would. That seemed utterly 
+impossible to the Tisalvers. 
+
+After three evenings of this, Seldon found himself tiring. He had, at first, 
+welcomed the chance to do nothing for a while (during the day, at least) but view some of 
+
+
+
+the history book-films that Dors recommended. The Tisalvers turned over their book- 
+viewer to their guests during the day with good grace, though the little girl seemed 
+unhappy and was sent over to a neighbor’s apartment to use theirs for her homework. 
+
+“It doesn’t help, “ Seldon said restlessly in the security of his room after he had 
+piped in some music to discourage eavesdropping. “I can see your fascination with 
+history, but it’s all endless detail. It’s a mountainous heap-no, a Galactic heap-of data in 
+which I can’t see the basic organization.” 
+
+“I dare say, “ said Dors, “that there must have been a time when human beings 
+saw no organization in the stars in the sky, but eventually they discovered the Galactic 
+structure.” 
+
+“And I’m sure that took generations, not weeks. There must have been a time 
+when physics seemed a mass of unrelated observations before the central natural laws 
+were discovered and that took generations, —and what of the Tisalvers?” 
+
+“What of them? I think they’re being very nice.” 
+
+“They’re curious.” 
+
+“Of course they are. Wouldn’t you be if you were in their place?” 
+
+“But is it just curiosity? They seem to be ferociously interested in my meeting 
+with the Emperor.” 
+
+Dors seemed impatient. “Again ... its only natural. Wouldn’t you befit the 
+situation was reversed?” 
+
+“It makes me nervous.” 
+
+“Hummin brought us here.” 
+
+“Yes, but he’s not perfect. He brought me to the University and I was maneuvered 
+Upperside. He brought us to Sunmaster Fourteen, who entrapped us. You know he did. 
+Twice bitten, at least once shy. I’m tired of being questioned.” 
+
+“Then turn the tables, Hari. Aren’t you interested in Dahl?” 
+
+“Of course. What do you know about it to begin with?” 
+
+“Nothing. It’s just one of more than eight hundred sectors and I’ve only been on 
+Trantor a little over two years.” 
+
+“Exactly. And there are twenty-five million other worlds and I’ve been on this 
+problem only a little over two months. -I tell you. I want to go back to Helicon and take 
+up a study of the mathematics of turbulence, which was my Ph.D. problem, and forget I 
+ever saw —or thought I saw that turbulence gave an insight into human society.” 
+
+But that evening he said to Tisalver, “But you know, Master Tisalver, you’ve 
+never told me what you do, the nature of your work.” 
+
+“Me?” Tisalver placed his fingers on his chest, which was covered by the simple 
+white T-shirt with nothing underneath, which seemed to be the standard male uniform in 
+Dahl. “Nothing much. I work at the local holovision station in programming. It’s very 
+dull, but it’s a living.” 
+
+“And it’s respectable, “ said Mistress Tisalver. “It means he doesn’t have to work 
+in the heatsinks.” 
+
+“The heatsinks?” said Dors, lifting her light eyebrows and managing to look 
+fascinated. 
+
+“Oh well, “ said Tisalver, “that’s what Dahl is best known for. It isn’t much, but 
+forty billion people on Trantor need energy and we supply a lot of it. We don’t get 
+appreciated, but I’d like to see some of the fancy sectors do without it.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon looked confused. “Doesn’t Trantor get its energy from solar power 
+stations in orbit?” 
+
+“Some, “ said Tisalver, “and some from nuclear fusion stations out on the islands 
+and some from microfusion motors and some from wind stations Upperside, but half” — 
+he raised a finger in emphasis and his face looked unusually grave “half comes from the 
+heatsinks. There are heatsinks in lots of places, but none-none- as rich as those in Dahl. 
+Are you serious that you don’t know about the heatsinks? You sit there and stare at me.” 
+
+Dors said quickly, “We are Outworlders, you know.” (She had almost said 
+‘tribespeople, ‘ but had caught herself in time.) “Especially Dr. Seldon. He’s only been 
+on Trantor a couple of months.” 
+
+“Really?” said Mistress Tisalver. She was a trifle shorter than her husband, was 
+plump without quite being fat, had her dark hair drawn tightly back into a bun, and 
+possessed rather beautiful dark eyes. Like her husband, she appeared to be in her thirties. 
+
+(After a period in Mycogen, not actually long in duration but intense, it struck 
+Dors as odd to have a woman enter the conversation at will. How quickly modes and 
+manners establish themselves, she thought, and made a mental note to mention that to 
+Seldon — one more item for his psychohistory.) 
+
+“Oh yes, “ she said. “Dr. Seldon is from Helicon.” 
+
+Mistress Tisalver registered polite ignorance. “And where might that be?” 
+
+Dors said, “Why, it’s—” She turned to Seldon. “Where is it, Hari?” 
+
+Seldon looked abashed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could locate it very 
+easily on a Galactic model without looking up the coordinates. All I can say is that it’s on 
+the other side of the central black hole from Trantor and getting there by hypership is 
+rather a chore.” 
+
+Mistress Tisalver said, “I don’t think Jirad and I will ever be on a hypership.” 
+
+“Someday, Casilia, “ said Tisalver cheerfully, “maybe we will. But tell us about 
+Helicon, Master Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “To me that would be dull. Its just a world, like any other. 
+Only Trantor is different from all the rest. There are no heatsinks on Helicon— or probably 
+anywhere else except Trantor. Tell me about them.” 
+
+(“Only Trantor is different from all the rest.” The sentence repeated itself in 
+Seldon’s mind and for a moment he grasped at it, and for some reason Dor’s hand-on- 
+thigh story suddenly recurred to him, but Tisalver was speaking and it passed out of 
+Seldon’s mind as quickly as it had entered.) 
+
+Tisalver said, “If you really want to know about heatsinks, I can show you.” He 
+turned to his wife. “Casilia, would you mind if tomorrow evening I take Master Seldon to 
+the heatsinks.” 
+
+“And me, “ said Dors quickly. 
+
+“And Mistress Venabili?” 
+
+Mistress Tisalver frowned and said sharply, “I don’t think it would be a good 
+idea. Our visitors would find it dull.” 
+
+“I don’t think so, Mistress Tisalver, “ said Seldon ingratiatingly. “We would very 
+much like to see the heatsinks. We would be delighted if you would join us too . . . and 
+your little daughter-if she wants to come.” 
+
+“To the heatsinks?” said Mistress Tisalver, stiffening. “It’s no place at all for a 
+decent woman.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon felt embarrassed at his gaffe. “I meant no harm, Mistress Tisalver.” 
+
+“No offense, “ said Tisalver. “Casilia thinks it’s beneath us and so it is, but as 
+long as I don’t work there, it’s no distress merely to visit and show it to guests. But it is 
+uncomfortable and I would never get Casilia to dress properly.” 
+
+They got up from their crouching positions. Dahlite “chairs” were merely molded 
+plastic seats on small wheels and they cramped Seldon’s knees terribly and seemed to 
+wiggle at his least body movement. The Tisalvers, however, had mastered the art of 
+sitting firmly and rose without trouble and without needing to use their arms for help as 
+Seldon had to. Dors also got up without trouble and Seldon once again marveled at her 
+natural grace. 
+
+Before they parted to their separate rooms for the night, Seldon said to Dors, “Are 
+you sure you know nothing about heatsinks? Mistress Tisalver makes them seem 
+unpleasant.” 
+
+“They can’t be that unpleasant or Tisalver wouldn’t suggest taking us on tour. 
+
+Lets be content to be surprised.” 
+
+63 , 
+
+Tisalver said, “You’ll need proper clothing.” Mistress Tisalver sniffed markedly 
+in the background. 
+
+Cautiously, Seldon, thinking of kirtles with vague distress, said, “What do you 
+mean by proper clothing?” 
+
+“Something light, such as I wear. A T-shirt, very short sleeves, loose slacks, loose 
+underpants, foot socks, open sandals. I have it all for you.” 
+
+“Good. IL doesn’t sound bad.” 
+
+“As for Mistress Venabili, I have the same. I hope it fits.” 
+
+The clothes Tisalver supplied each of them (which were his own) fit fine-if a bit 
+snugly. When they were ready, they bade Mistress Tisalver good-bye and she, with a 
+resigned if still disapproving air, watched them from the doorway as they set off. 
+
+It was early evening and there was an attractive twilight glow above. It was clear 
+that Dahl’s lights would soon be winking on. The temperature was mild and there were 
+virtually no vehicles to be seen; everyone was walking. In the distance was the 
+everpresent hum of an Expressway and the occasional glitter of its lights could be easily 
+seen. 
+
+The Dahlites, Seldon noted, did not seem to be walking toward any particular 
+destination. Rather, there seemed to be a promenade going on, a walking for pleasure. 
+Perhaps, if Dahl was an impoverished sector, as Tisalver had implied, inexpensive 
+entertainment was at a premium and what was as pleasant— and as inexpensive— as an 
+evening stroll? 
+
+Seldon felt himself easing automatically into the gait of an aimless stroll himself 
+and felt the warmth of friendliness aO around him. People greeted each other as they 
+passed and exchanged a few words. Black mustaches of different shape and thickness 
+flashed everywhere and seemed a requisite for the Dahlite male, as ubiquitous as the bald 
+heads of the Mycogenian Brothers. 
+
+It was an evening rite, a way of making sure that another day had passed safely 
+and that one’s friends were still well and happy. And, it soon became apparent, Dors 
+
+
+
+caught every eye. In the twilight glow, the ruddiness of her hair had deepened, but it 
+stood out against the sea of black-haired heads (except for the occasional gray) like a 
+gold coin winking its way across a pile of coal. 
+
+“This is very pleasant, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“It is, “ said Tisalver. “Ordinarily, I’d be walking with my wife and she’d be in 
+her element. There is no one for a kilometer around whom she doesn’t know by name, 
+occupation, and interrelationships. I can’t do that. Right now, half the people who greet 
+me ... I couldn’t tell you their names. But, in any case, we mustn’t creep along too 
+slowly. We must get to the elevator. It’s a busy world on the lower levels.” 
+
+They were on the elevator going down when Dors said, “I presume, Master 
+Tisalver, that the heatsinks are places where the internal heat of Trantor is being used to 
+produce steam that will turn turbines and produce electricity.” 
+
+“Oh no. Highly efficient large-scale thermopiles produce electricity directly. 
+Don’t ask me the details, please. I’m just a holovision programmer. In fact, don’t ask 
+anyone the details down there. The whole thing is one big black box. It works, but no one 
+knows how.” 
+
+“What if something goes wrong?” 
+
+“It doesn’t usually, but if it does, some expert comes over from somewhere. 
+Someone who understands computers. The whole thing is highly computerized, of 
+course.” 
+
+The elevator came to a halt and they stepped out. A blast of heat struck them. 
+
+“It’s hot, “ said Seldon quite unnecessarily. 
+
+“Yes, it is, “ said Tisalver. “That’s what makes Dahl so valuable as an energy 
+source. The magma layer is nearer the surface here than it is anywhere else in the world. 
+So you have to work in the heat.” 
+
+“How about air-conditioning?” said Dors. 
+
+“There is air-conditioning, but it’s a matter of expense. We ventilate and 
+dehumidify and cool, but if we go too far, then we’re using up too much energy and the 
+whole process becomes too expensive.” 
+
+Tisalver stopped at a door at which he signaled. It opened to a blast of cooler air 
+and he muttered, “We ought to be able to get someone to help show us around and he’ll 
+control the remarks that Mistress Venabili will otherwise be the victim of ... at least 
+from the men.” 
+
+“Remarks won’t embarrass me, “ said Dors. 
+
+“They will embarrass me, “ said Tisalver. 
+
+A young man walked out of the office and introduced himself as Hano Linder. He 
+resembled Tisalver quite closely, but Seldon decided that until he got used to the almost 
+universal shortness, swarthiness, black hair, and luxuriant mustaches, he would not be 
+able to see individual differences easily. 
+
+Lindor said, “I’ll be glad to show you around for what there is to see. It’s not one 
+of your spectaculars, you know.” He addressed them all, but his eyes were fixed on Dors. 
+He said, “It’s not going to be comfortable. I suggest we remove our shirts.” 
+
+“It’s nice and cool in here, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Of course, but that’s because we’re executives. Rank has its privileges. Out there 
+we can’t maintain air-conditioning at this level. That’s why they get paid more than I do. 
+In fact, those are the best-paying jobs in Dahl, which is the only reason we get people to 
+
+
+
+work down here. Even so, it’s getting harder to get heatsinkers all the time.” He took a 
+deep breath. “Okay, out into the soup.” 
+
+He removed his own shirt and tucked it into his waistband. Tisalver did the same 
+and Seldon followed suit. 
+
+Linder glanced at Dors and said, “For your own comfort, Mistress, but it’s not 
+compulsory.” 
+
+“That’s all right, “ said Dors and removed her shirt. 
+
+Her brassiere was white, unpadded, and showed considerable cleavage. 
+
+“Mistress, “ said Lindor, “That’s not—” He thought a moment, then shrugged and 
+said, “All right. We’ll get by.” 
+
+At first, Seldon was aware only of computers and machinery, huge pipes, 
+flickering lights, and flashing screens. 
+
+The overall light was comparatively dim, though individual sections of machinery 
+were illuminated. Seldon looked up into the almost-darkness. He said, “Why isn’t it 
+better lit?” 
+
+“It’s lit well enough . . . where it should be, “ said Lindor. His voice was well 
+modulated and he spoke quickly, but a little harshly. “Overall illumination is kept low for 
+psychological reasons. Too bright is translated, in the mind, into heat. Complaints go up 
+when we turn up the lights, even when the temperature is made to go down.” 
+
+Dors said, “It seems to be well computerized. I should think the operations could 
+be turned over to computers altogether. This sort of environment is made for artificial 
+intelligence.” 
+
+“Perfectly right, “ said Lindor, “but neither can we take a chance on any failures. 
+We need people on the spot if anything goes wrong. A misfunctioning computer can raise 
+problems up to two thousand kilometers away.” 
+
+“So can human error. Isn’t that so?” said Seldon. 
+
+“Oh yes, but with both people and computers on the job, computer error can be 
+more quickly tracked down and corrected by people and, conversely, human error can be 
+more quickly corrected by computers. What it amounts to is that nothing serious can 
+happen unless human error and computer error take place simultaneously. And that 
+hardly ever happens.” 
+
+“Hardly ever, but not never, eh?” said Seldon. 
+
+“Almost never, but not never. Computers aren’t what they used to be and neither 
+are people.” 
+
+“That’s the way it always seems, “ said Seldon, laughing slightly. 
+
+“No no. I’m not talking memory. I’m not talking good old days. I’m talking 
+statistics.” 
+
+At this, Seldon recalled Hummin talking of the degeneration of the times. 
+
+“See what I mean?” said Lindor, his voice dropping. “There’s a bunch of people, 
+at the C-3 level from the looks of them, drinking. Not one of them is at his or her post.” 
+
+“What are they drinking?” asked Dors. 
+
+“Special fluids for replacing electrolyte loss. Fruit juice.” 
+
+“You can’t blame them, can you?” said Dors indignantly. “In this dry heat, you 
+would have to drink.” 
+
+“Do you know how long a skilled C-3 can spin out a drink? And there’s nothing 
+to be done about it either. If we give them fiveminute breaks for drinks and stagger them 
+
+
+
+so they don’t all congregate in a group, you simply stir up a rebellion.” 
+
+They were approaching the group now. There were men and women (Dahl 
+seemed to be a more or less amphisexual society) and both sexes were shirtless. The 
+women wore devices that might be called brassieres, but they were strictly functional. 
+They served to lift the breasts in order to improve ventilation and limit perspiration, but 
+covered nothing. 
+
+Dors said in an aside to Seldon, “That makes sense, Hari. I’m soaking wet there.” 
+
+“Take off your brassiere, then, “ said Seldon. “I won’t lift a finger to stop you.” 
+
+“Somehow, “ said Dors, “I guessed you wouldn’t.” She left her brassiere where it 
+
+was. 
+
+They were approaching the congregation of people-about a dozen of them. 
+
+Dors said, “If any of them make rude remarks, I shall survive.” 
+
+“Thank you, “ said Lindor. “I cannot promise they won’t, —but I’ll have to 
+introduce you. If they get the idea that you two are inspectors and in my company, they’ll 
+become unruly. Inspectors are supposed to poke around on their own without anyone 
+from management overseeing them.” 
+
+He held up his arms. “Heatsinkers, I have two introductions to make. We have 
+visitors from outside-two Outworlders, two scholars. They’ve got worlds running short 
+on energy and they’ve come here to see how we do it here in Dahl. They think they may 
+learn something.” 
+
+“They’ll learn how to sweat!” shouted a heatsinker and there was raucous 
+laughter. 
+
+“She’s got a sweaty chest right now, “ shouted a woman, “covering up like that.” 
+
+Dors shouted back, “I’d take it off, but mine can’t compete with yours.” The 
+laughter turned good-natured. 
+
+But one young man stepped forward, staring at Seldon with intense deep-set eyes, 
+his face set into a humorless mask. He said, “I know you. You’re the mathematician.” 
+
+He ran forward, inspecting Seldon’s face with eager solemnity. Automatically, 
+Dors stepped in front of Seldon and Lindor stepped in front of her, shouting, “Back, 
+heatsinker. Mind your manners.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Wait! Let him talk to me. Why is everyone piling in front of me?” 
+
+Lindor said in a low voice, “If any of them get close, you’ll find they don’t smell 
+like hothouse flowers.” 
+
+“I’ll endure it, “ said Seldon brusquely. “Young man, what is it you want?” 
+
+“My name is Amaryl. Yugo Amaryl. I’ve seen you on holovision.” 
+
+“You might have, but what about it?” 
+
+“I don’t remember your name.” 
+
+“You don’t have to.” 
+
+“You talked about something called psychohistory.” 
+
+“You don’t know how I wish I hadn’t.” 
+
+“What?” 
+
+“Nothing. What is it you want?” 
+
+“I want to talk to you. Just for a little while. Now.” 
+
+Seldon looked at Lindor, who shook his head firmly. “Not while he’s on his 
+
+shift.” 
+
+“When does your shift begin, Mr. Amaryl?” asked Seldon. 
+
+
+
+“Sixteen hundred.” 
+
+“Can you see me tomorrow at fourteen hundred?” 
+
+“Sure. Where?” 
+
+Seldon turned to Tisalver. Would you permit me to see him in your place?” 
+
+Tisalver looked very unhappy. “Its not necessary. He’s just a heatsinker.” 
+
+Seldon said, “He recognized my face. He knows something about me. He can’t be 
+just an anything. I’ll see him in my room.” And then, as Tisalver’s face didn’t soften, he 
+added, “My room, for which rent is being paid. And you’ll be at work, out of the 
+apartment.” 
+
+Tisalver said in a low voice, “It’s not me, Master Seldon. It’s my wife, Casilia. 
+
+She won’t stand for it.” 
+
+“I’ll talk to her, “ said Seldon grimly. “She’ll have to.” 
+
+64 . 
+
+Casilia Tisalver opened her eyes wide. “A heatsinker? Not in my apartment.” 
+
+“Why not? Besides, he’ll be coming to my room, “ said Seldon. “At fourteen 
+hundred.” 
+
+“I won’t have it, “ said Mistress Tisalver. “This is what comes of going down to 
+the heatsinks. Jirad was a fool.” 
+
+“Not at all, Mistress Tisalver. We went at my request and I was fascinated. I must 
+see this young man, since that is necessary to my scholarly work.” 
+
+“I’m sorry if it is, but I won’t have it.” 
+
+Dors Venabili raised her hand. “Hari, let me take care of this. Mistress Tisalver, if 
+Dr. Seldon must see someone in his room this afternoon, the additional person naturally 
+means additional rent. We understand that. For today, then, the rent on Dr. Seldon’s room 
+will be doubled.” 
+
+Mistress Tisalver thought about it. “Well, that’s decent of you, but it’s not only 
+the credits. There’s the neighbours to think of. A sweaty, smelly heatsinker—” 
+
+“I doubt that he’ll be sweaty and smelly at fourteen hundred, Mistress Tisalver, 
+but let me go on. Since Dr. Seldon must see him, then if he can’t see him here, he’ll have 
+to see him elsewhere, but we can’t run here and there. That would be too inconvenient. 
+Therefore, what we will have to do is to get a room elsewhere. It won’t be easy and we 
+don’t want to do it, but we will have to. So we will pay the rent through today and leave 
+and of course we will have to explain to Master Hummin why we have had to change the 
+arrangements that he so kindly made for us.” 
+
+“Wait.” Mistress Tisalver’s face became a study of calculation. “We wouldn’t like 
+to disoblige Master Hummin ... or you two. How long would this creature have to stay?” 
+
+“He’s coming at fourteen hundred. He must be at work at sixteen hundred. He 
+will be here for less than two hours, perhaps considerably less. We will meet him outside, 
+the two of us, and bring him to Dr. Seldon’s room. Any neighbours who see us will think 
+he is an Outworlder friend of ours.” 
+
+Mistress Tisalver nodded her head. “Then let it be as you say. Double rent for 
+Master Seldon’s room for today and the heatsinker will visit just this one time.” 
+
+“Just this one time, “ said Dors. 
+
+But later, when Seldon and Dors were sitting in her room, Dors said, “Why do 
+
+
+
+you have to see him, Hari? Is interviewing a heatsinker important to psychohistory too?” 
+
+Seldon thought he detected a small edge of sarcasm in her voice and he said tartly, 
+“I don’t have to base everything on this huge project of mine, in which I have very little 
+faith anyway. I am also a human being with human curiosities. We were down in the 
+heatsinks for hours and you saw what the working people there were like. They were 
+obviously uneducated. They were low-level individuals-no play on words intended and 
+yet here was one who recognized me. He must have seen me on holovision on the 
+occasion of the Decennial Convention and he remembered the word ‘psychohistory.’ He 
+strikes me as unusual— as out of place somehow —and I would like to talk to him.” 
+
+“Because it pleases your vanity to have become known even to heatsinkers in 
+
+Dahl?” 
+
+“Well . . . perhaps. But it also piques my curiosity.” 
+
+“And how do you know he hasn’t been briefed and intends to lead you into 
+trouble as has happened before.” 
+
+Seldon winced. “I won’t let him run his fingers through my hair. In any case, 
+we’re more nearly prepared now, aren’t we? And I’m sure you’ll be with me. I mean, you 
+let me go Upperside alone, you let me go with Raindrop Forty-Three to the microfarms 
+alone, and you’re not going to do that again, are you?” 
+
+“You can be absolutely sure I won’t, “ said Dors. 
+
+“Well then, I’ll talk to the young man and you can watch out for traps. I have 
+every faith in you.” 
+
+65. 
+
+Amaryl arrived a few minutes before 1400, looking warily about. His hair was 
+neat and his thick mustache was combed and turned up slightly at the edges. His T-shirt 
+was startlingly white. He did smell, but it was a fruity odor that undoubtedly came from 
+the slightly overenthusiastic use of scent. He had a bag with him. 
+
+Seldon, who had been waiting outside for him, seized one elbow lightly, while 
+Dors seized the other, and they moved rapidly into the elevator. Having reached the 
+correct level, they passed through the apartment into Seldon’ s room. 
+
+Amaryl said in a low hangdog voice, “Nobody home, huh?” 
+
+“Everyone’s busy, “ said Seldon neutrally. He indicated the only chair in the 
+room, a pad directly on the floor. 
+
+“No, “ said Amaryl. “I don’t need that. One of you two use it.” He squatted on the 
+floor with a graceful downward motion. 
+
+Dors imitated the movement, sitting on the edge of Seldon’ s floorbased mattress, 
+but Seldon dropped down rather clumsily, having to make use of his hands and unable, 
+quite, to find a comfortable position for his legs. 
+
+Seldon said, “Well, young man, why do you want to see me?” 
+
+“Because you’re a mathematician. You’re the first mathematician I ever saw- 
+close up-so I could touch him, you know.” 
+
+“Mathematicians feel like anyone else.” 
+
+“Not to me, Dr . . . . Dr. . . . Seldon?” 
+
+“That’s my name.” 
+
+Amaryl looked pleased. “I finally remembered. -You see, I want to be a 
+
+
+
+mathematician too.” 
+
+“Very good. What’s stopping you?” 
+
+Amaryl suddenly frowned. “Are you serious?” 
+
+“I presume something is stopping you. Yes, I’m serious.” 
+
+“What’s stopping me is I’m a Dahlite, a heatsinker on Dahl. I don’t have the 
+money to get an education and I can’t get the credits to get an education. A real 
+education, I mean. All they taught me was to read and cipher and use a computer and 
+then I knew enough to be a heatsinker. But I wanted more. So I taught myself.” 
+
+“In some ways, that’s the best kind of teaching. How did you do that?” 
+
+“I knew a librarian. She was willing to help me. She was a very nice woman and 
+she showed me how to use computers for learning mathematics. And she set up a 
+software system that would connect me with other libraries. I’d come on my days off and 
+on mornings after my shift. Sometimes she’d lock me in her private room so I wouldn’t 
+be bothered by people coming in or she would let me in when the library was closed. She 
+didn’t know mathematics herself, but she helped me all she could. She was oldish, a 
+widow lady. Maybe she thought of me as a kind of son or something. She didn’t have 
+children of her own.” 
+
+(Maybe, thought Seldon briefly, there was some other emotion involved too, but 
+he put the thought away. None of his business.) 
+
+“I liked number theory, “ said Amaryl. “I worked some things out from what I 
+learned from the computer and from the bookfilms it used to teach me mathematics. I 
+came up with some new things that weren’t in the book-films.” 
+
+Seldon raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. Like what?” 
+
+“I’ve brought some of them to you. I’ve never showed them to anyone. The 
+people around me—” He shrugged. “They’d either laugh or be annoyed. Once I tried to 
+tell a girl I knew, but she just said I was weird and wouldn’t see me anymore. Is it all 
+right for me to show them to you?” 
+
+“Quite all right. Believe me.” 
+
+Seldon held out his hand and after a brief hesitation, Amaryl handed him the bag 
+he was carrying. 
+
+For a long time, Seldon looked over Amaryl’ s papers. The work was naive in the 
+extreme, but he allowed no smile to cross his face. He followed the demonstrations, not 
+one of which was new, of course— or even nearly new— or of any importance. 
+
+But that didn’t matter. 
+
+Seldon looked up. “Did you do all of this yourself?” 
+
+Amaryl, looking more than half-frightened, nodded his head. 
+
+Seldon extracted several sheets. “What made you think of this?” His finger ran 
+down a line of mathematical reasoning. 
+
+Amaryl looked it over, frowned, and thought about it. Then he explained his line 
+of thinking. 
+
+Seldon listened and said, “Did you ever read a book by Anat Bigell?” 
+
+“On number theory?” 
+
+“The title was Mathematical Deduction. It wasn’t about number theory, 
+particularly.” 
+
+Amaryl shook his head. “I never heard of him. I’m sorry.” 
+
+“He worked out this theorem of yours three hundred years ago.’ 
+
+
+
+Amaryl looked stricken. “I didn’t know that.” 
+
+“I’m sure you didn’t. You did it more cleverly, though. It’s not rigorous, but—” 
+
+“What do you mean, ‘rigorous’?” 
+
+“It doesn’t matter.” Seldon put the papers back together in a sheaf, restored it to 
+the bag, and said, “Make several copies of all this. Take one copy, have it dated by an 
+official computer, and place it under computerized seal. My friend here, Mistress 
+Venabili, can get you into Streeling University without tuition on some sort of 
+scholarship. You’ll have to start at the beginning and take courses in other subjects than 
+mathematics, but- 
+
+By now Amaryl had caught his breath. “Into Streeling University? They won’t 
+take me.” 
+
+“Why not? Dors, you can arrange it, can’t you?” 
+
+“I’m sure I can.” 
+
+“No, you can’t, “ said Amaryl hotly. “They won’t take me. I’m from Dahl.” 
+
+“Well?” 
+
+“They won’t take people from Dahl.” 
+
+Seldon looked at Dors. “What’s he talking about?” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “I really don’t know.” 
+
+Amaryl said, “You’re an Outworlder, Mistress. How long have you been at 
+Streeling?” 
+
+“A little over two years, Mr. Amaryl.” 
+
+“Have you ever seen Dahlites there-short, curly black hair, big mustaches?” 
+
+“There are students with all kinds of appearances.” 
+
+“But no Dahlites. Look again the next time you’re there.” 
+
+“Why not?” said Seldon. 
+
+“They don’t like us. We look different. They don’t like our mustaches.” 
+
+“You can shave your—” but Seldon’ s voice died under the other’s furious glance. 
+
+“Never. Why should I? My mustache is my manhood.” 
+
+“You shave your beard. That’s your manhood too.” 
+
+“To my people it is the mustache.” 
+
+Seldon looked at Dors again and murmured, “Bald heads, mustaches . . . 
+madness.” 
+
+“What?” said Amaryl angrily. 
+
+“Nothing. Tell me what else they don’t like about Dahlites.” 
+
+“They make up things not to like. They say we smell. They say we’re dirty. They 
+say we steal. They say we’re violent. They say we’re dumb. “ 
+
+“Why do they say all this?” 
+
+“Because its easy to say it and it makes them feel good. Sure, if we work in the 
+heatsinks, we get dirty and smelly. If we’re poor and held down, some of us steal and get 
+violent. But that isn’t the way it is with all of us. How about those tall yellow-hairs in the 
+Imperial Sector who think they own the Galaxy-no, they do own the Galaxy. Don’t they 
+ever get violent? Don’t they steal sometimes? If they did my job, they’d smell the way I 
+do. If they had to live the way I have to, they’d get dirty too.” 
+
+“Who denies that there are people of all kinds in all places?” said Seldon. 
+
+“No one argues the matter! They just take it for granted. Master Seldon, I’ve got 
+to get away from Trantor. I have no chance on Trantor, no way of earning credits, no way 
+
+
+
+of getting an education, no way of becoming a mathematician, no way of becoming any 
+thing but what they say I am ... a worthless nothing.” This last was said in frustration— 
+and desperation. 
+
+Seldon tried to be reasonable. “The person I’m renting this room from is a 
+Dahlite. He has a clean job. He’s educated.” 
+
+“Oh sure, “ said Amaryl passionately. “There are some. They let a few do it so 
+that they can say it can be done. And those few can live nicely as long as they stay in 
+Dahl. Let them go outside and they’ll see how they’re treated. And while they’re in here 
+they make themselves feel good by treating the rest of us like dirt. That makes them 
+yellow-hairs in their own eyes. What did this nice person you’re renting this room from 
+say when you told him you were bringing in a heatsinker? What did he say I would be 
+like? They’re gone now . . . wouldn’t be in the same place with me.” 
+
+Seldon moistened his lips. “I won’t forget you. I’ll see to it that you’ll get off 
+Trantor and into my own University in Helicon once I’m back there myself.” 
+
+“Do you promise that? Your word of honor? Even though I’m a Dahlite?” 
+
+“The fact that you’re a Dahlite is unimportant to me. The fact that you are already 
+a mathematician is! But I still can’t quite grasp what you’re telling me. I find it 
+impossible to believe that there would be such unreasoning feeling against harmless 
+people.” 
+
+Amaryl said bitterly, “That’s because you’ve never had any occasion to interest 
+yourself in such things. It ran all pass right under your nose and you wouldn’t smell a 
+thing because it doesn’t affect you. “ 
+
+Dors said, “Mr. Amaryl, Dr. Seldon is a mathematician like you and his head can 
+sometimes be in the clouds. You must understand that. I am a historian, however. I know 
+that it isn’t unusual to have one group of people look down upon another group. There 
+are peculiar and almost ritualistic hatreds that have no rational justification and that can 
+have their serious historical influence. It’s too bad.” 
+
+Amaryl said, “Saying something is ‘too bad’ is easy. You say you disapprove, 
+which makes you a nice person, and then you can go about your own business and not be 
+interested anymore. It’s a lot worse than ‘too bad.’ It’s against everything decent and 
+natural. We’re all of us the same, yellow-hairs and black-hairs, tall and short, Easterners, 
+Westerners, Southerners, and Outworlders. We’re all of us, you and I and even the 
+Emperor, descended from the people of Earth, aren’t we?” 
+
+“Descended from what” asked Seldon. He turned to look at Dors, his eyes wide. 
+
+“From the people of Earth!” shouted Amaryl. “The one planet on which human 
+beings originated.” 
+
+“One planet? Just one planet?” 
+
+“The only planet. Sure. Earth.” 
+
+“When you say Earth, you mean Aurora, don’t you?” 
+
+“Aurora? What’s that? -I mean Earth. Have you never heard of Earth?” 
+
+“No, “ said Seldon. “Actually not.” 
+
+“It’s a mythical world, “ began Dors, “that—” 
+
+“It’s not mythical. It was a real planet.” 
+
+Seldon sighed. “I’ve heard this all before. Well, let’s go through it again. Is there 
+a Dahlite book that tells of Earth?” 
+
+
+“What?” 
+
+
+
+“Some computer software, then?” 
+
+“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
+
+“Young man, where did you hear about Earth?” 
+
+“My dad told me. Everyone knows about it.” 
+
+“Is there anyone who knows about it especially? Did they teach you about it in 
+school?” 
+
+“They never said a word about it there.” 
+
+“Then how do people know about it?” 
+
+Amaryl shrugged his shoulders with an air of being uselessly badgered over 
+nothing. “Everyone just does. If you want stories about it, there’s Mother Rittah. I 
+haven’t heard that she’s died yet.” 
+
+“Your mother? Wouldn’t you know—” 
+
+“She’s not my mother. That’s just what they call her. Mother Rittah. She’s an old 
+woman. She lives in Billibotton. Or used to.” 
+
+“Where’s that?” 
+
+“Down in that direction, “ said Amaryl, gesturing vaguely. 
+
+“How do I get there?” 
+
+“Get there? You don’t want to get there. You’d never come back.” 
+
+“Why not?” 
+
+“Believe me. You don’t want to go there.” 
+
+“But I’d like to see Mother Rittah.” 
+
+Amaryl shook his head. “Can you use a knife?” 
+
+“For what purpose? What kind of knife?” 
+
+“A cutting knife. Like this.” Amaryl reached down to the belt that held his pants 
+tight about his waist. A section of it came away and from one end there flashed out a 
+knife blade, thin, gleaming, and deadly. 
+
+Dors’s hand immediately came down hard upon his right wrist. 
+
+Amaryl laughed. “I wasn’t planning to use it. I was just showing it to you.” He 
+put the knife back in his belt. “You need one in selfdefense and if you don’t have one or 
+if you have one but don’t know how to use it, you’ll never get out of Billibotton alive. 
+Anyway”-he suddenly grew very grave and intent— ’’are you really serious, Master 
+Seldon, about helping me get to Helicon?” 
+
+“Entirely serious. That’s a promise. Write down your name and where you can be 
+reached by hypercomputer. You have a code, I suppose.” 
+
+“My shift in the heatsinks has one. Will that do?” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+“Well then, “ said Amaryl, looking up earnestly at Seldon, “this means I have my 
+whole future riding on you, Master Seldon, so please don’t go to Billibotton. I can’t 
+afford to lose you now.” He turned beseeching eyes on Dors and said softly, “Mistress 
+Venabili, if he’ll listen to you, don’t let him go. Please. “ 
+
+Billibotton 
+
+
+DAHL- . . . Oddly enough, the best-known aspect of this sector is Billibotton, a 
+semi-legendary place about which innumerable tales have grown up. In fact, a whole 
+branch of literature now exists in which heroes and adventurers (and victims) must dare 
+
+
+
+the dangers of passing through Billibotton. So stylized have these stories become that the 
+one well-known and, presumably, authentic tale involving such a passage, that of Hari 
+Seldon and Dors Venabili, has come to seem fantastic simply by association . . . 
+
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+66 . 
+
+When Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili were alone, Dors asked thoughtfully, “Are 
+you really planning to see this ‘Mother’ woman?” 
+
+“I’m thinking about it, Dors.” 
+
+“You’re an odd one, Hari. You seem to go steadily from bad to worse. You went 
+Upperside, which seemed harmless enough, for a rational purpose when you were in 
+Streeling. Then, in Mycogen, you broke into the Elders’ aerie, a much more dangerous 
+task, for a much more foolish purpose. And now in Dahl, you want to go to this place, 
+which that young man seems to think is simple suicide, for something altogether 
+nonsensical.” 
+
+“I’m curious about this reference to Earth— and must know if there’s anything to 
+it.” 
+
+Dors said, “It’s a legend and not even an interesting one. It is routine. The names 
+differ from planet to planet, but the content is the same. There is always the tale of an 
+original world and a golden age. There is a longing for a supposedly simple and virtuous 
+past that is almost universal among the people of a complex and vicious society. In one 
+way or another, this is true of all societies, since everyone imagines his or her own 
+society to be too complex and vicious, however simple it may be. Mark that down for 
+your psychohistory.” 
+
+“Just the same, “ said Seldon, “I have to consider the possibility that one world 
+did once exist. Aurora . . . Earth ... the name doesn’t matter. In fact—” 
+
+He paused and finally Dors said, “Well?” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “Do you remember the hand-on-thigh story you told me in 
+Mycogen? It was right after I got the Book from Raindrop Forty-Three . . . Well, it 
+popped into my head one evening recently when we were talking to the Tisalvers. I said 
+something that reminded me, for an instant—” 
+
+“Reminded you of what?” 
+
+“I don’t remember. It came into my head and went out again, but somehow every 
+time I think of the single-world notion, it seems to me I have the tips of my fingers on 
+something and then lose it.” 
+
+Dors looked at Seldon in surprise. “I don’t see what it could be. The hand-on- 
+thigh story has nothing to do with Earth or Aurora.” 
+
+“I know, but this . . . thing . . . that hovers just past the edge of my mind seems to 
+be connected with this single world anyway and I have the feeling that I must find out 
+more about it at any cost. That . . . and robots.” 
+
+“Robots too? I thought the Elders’ aerie put an end to that.” 
+
+“Not at all. I’ve been thinking about them.” He stared at Dors with a troubled look 
+on his fare for a long moment, then said, “But I’m not sure.” 
+
+“Sure about what, Hari?” 
+
+But Seldon merely shook his head and said nothing more. 
+
+
+
+Dors frowned, then said, “Hari, let me tell you one thing. In sober history-and, 
+believe me, I know what I’m talking about there is no mention of one world of origin. It’s 
+a popular belief, I admit. I don’t mean just among the unsophisticated followers of 
+folklore, like the Mycogenians and the Dahlite heatsinkers, but there are biologists who 
+insist that there must have been one world of origin for reasons that are well outside my 
+area of expertise and there are the more mystical historians who tend to speculate about 
+it. And among the leisure-class intellectuals, I understand such speculations are becoming 
+fashionable. Still, scholarly history knows nothing about it.” 
+
+Seldon said, “All the more reason, perhaps, to go beyond scholarly history. All I 
+want is a device that will simplify psychohistory for me and I don’t care what the device 
+is, whether it is a mathematical trick or a historical trick or something totally imaginary. 
+
+If the young man we’ve just talked to had had a little more formal training, I’d have set 
+him on the problem. His thinking is marked by considerable ingenuity and originality—” 
+
+Dors said, “And you’re really going to help him, then?” 
+
+“Absolutely. Just as soon as I’m in a position to.” 
+
+“But ought you to make promises you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep?” 
+
+“I want to keep it. If you’re that stiff about impossible promises, consider that 
+Hummin told Sunmaster Fourteen that I’d use psychohistory to get the Mycogenians their 
+world back. There’s just about zero chance of that Even if I work out psychohistory, who 
+knows if it can be used for so narrow and specialized a purpose? There’s a real case of 
+promising what one can’t deliver.” 
+
+But Dors said with some heat, “Chetter Hummin was trying to save our lives, to 
+keep us out of the hands of Demerzel and the Emperor. Don’t forget that. And I think he 
+really would like to help the Mycogenians.” 
+
+“And I really would like to help Yugo Amaryl and I am far more likely to be able 
+to help him than I am the Mycogenians, so if you justify the second, please don’t criticize 
+the first. What’s more, Dors”— and his eyes flashed angrily— ”1 really would like to find 
+Mother Rittah and I’m prepared to go alone.” 
+
+“Never!” snapped Dors. “If you go, I go.” 
+
+67 . 
+
+Mistress Tisalver returned with her daughter in tow an hour after Amaryl had left 
+on this way to his shift. She said nothing at all to either Seldon or Dors, but gave a curt 
+nod of her head when they greeted her and gazed sharply about the room as though to 
+verify that the heatsinker had left no trace. She then sniffed the air sharply and looked at 
+Seldon accusingly before marching through the common room into the family bedroom. 
+
+Tisalver himself arrived home later and when Seldon and Dors came to the dinner 
+table, Tisalver took advantage of the fact that his wife was still ordering some last-minute 
+details in connection with the dinner to say in a low voice, “Has that person been here?” 
+
+“And gone, “ said Seldon solemnly. “Your wife was out at the time.” 
+
+Tisalver nodded and said, “Will you have to do this again?” 
+
+“I don’t think so, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Good.” 
+
+Dinner passed largely in silence, but afterward, when the daughter had gone to her 
+room for the dubious pleasures of computer practice, Seldon leaned back and said, “Tell 
+
+
+
+me about Billibotton.” 
+
+Tisalver looked astonished and his mouth moved without any sound issuing. 
+Casilia, however, was less easily rendered speechless. 
+
+She said, “Is that where your new friend lives? Are you going to return the visit?” 
+
+“So far, “ said Seldon quietly, “I have just asked about Billibotton.” 
+
+Casilia said sharply, “It is a slum. The dregs live there. No one goes there, except 
+the filth that make their homes there.” 
+
+“I understand a Mother Rittah lives there.” 
+
+“I never heard of her, “ said Casilia, her mouth closing with a snap. It was quite 
+clear that she had no intention of knowing anyone by name who lived in Billibotton. 
+
+Tisalver, casting an uneasy look at his wife, said, “I’ve heard of her. She’s a crazy 
+old woman who is supposed to tell fortunes.” 
+
+“And does she live in Billibotton?” 
+
+“I don’t know, Master Seldon. I’ve never seen her. She’s mentioned sometimes in 
+the news holocasts when she makes her predictions.” 
+
+“Do they come true?” 
+
+Tisalver snorted. “Do predictions ever come true? Hers don’t even make sense.” 
+
+“Does she ever talk about Earth?” 
+
+“I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised.” 
+
+“The mention of Earth doesn’t puzzle you. Do you know about Earth?” 
+
+Now Tisalver looked surprised. “Certainly, Master Seldon. It’s the world all 
+people came from . . . supposedly.” 
+
+“Supposedly? Don’t you believe it?” 
+
+“Me? I’m educated. But many ignorant people believe it.” 
+
+“Are there book-films about Earth?” 
+
+“Children’s stories sometimes mention Earth. I remember, when I was a young 
+boy, my favorite story began, ‘Once, long ago, on Earth, when Earth was the only planet- 
+’ Remember, Casilia? You liked it too.” 
+
+Casilia shrugged, unwilling to bend as yet. 
+
+“I’d like to see it sometime, “ said Seldon, “but I mean real bookfilms . . . uh . . . 
+learned ones ... or films ... or printouts.” 
+
+“I never heard of any, but the library—” 
+
+“I’ll try that. -Are there any taboos about speaking of Earth?” 
+
+“What are taboos?” 
+
+“I mean, is it a strong custom that people mustn’t talk of Earth or that outsiders 
+mustn’t ask about it?” 
+
+Tisalver looked so honestly astonished that there seemed no point in waiting for 
+an answer. 
+
+Dors put in, “Is there some rule about outsiders not going to Billibotton?” 
+
+Now Tisalver turned earnest. “No rule, but it’s not a good idea for anyone to go 
+there. 7 wouldn’t.” 
+
+Dors said, “Why not?” 
+
+“It’s dangerous. Violent! Everyone is armed. -I mean, Dahl is an armed place 
+anyway, but in Billibotton they use the weapons. Stay in this neighborhood. It’s safe.” 
+
+“So far, “ said Casilia darkly. “It would be better if we left altogether. Heatsinkers 
+go anywhere these days.” And there was another lowering look in Seldon’s direction. 
+
+
+
+Seldon said, “What do you mean that Dahl is an armed place? There are strong 
+Imperial regulations against weapons.” 
+
+“I know that, “ said Tisalver, “and there are no stun guns here or percussives or 
+Psychic Probes or anything like that. But there are knives.” He looked embarrassed. 
+
+Dors said, “Do you carry a knife, Tisalver?” 
+
+“Me?” He looked genuinely horrified. “I am a man of peace and this is a safe 
+neighborhood.” 
+
+“We have a couple of them in the house, “ said Casilia, sniffing again. “We’re not 
+that certain this is a safe neighborhood.” 
+
+“Does everyone carry knives?” asked Dors. 
+
+“Almost everyone, Mistress Venabili, “ said Tisalver. “It’s customary. But that 
+doesn’t mean everyone uses them.” 
+
+“But they use them in Billibotton, I suppose, “ said Dors. 
+
+“Sometimes. When they’re excited, they have fights.” 
+
+“And the government permits it? The Imperial government, I mean?” 
+
+“Sometimes they try to clean Billibotton up, but knives are too easy to hide and 
+the custom is too strong. Besides, it’s almost always Dahlites that get killed and I don’t 
+think the Imperial government gets too upset over that.” 
+
+“What if it’s an outsider who gets killed?” 
+
+“If it’s reported, the Imperials could get excited. But what happens is that no one 
+has seen anything and no one knows anything. The Imperials sometimes round up people 
+on general principles, but they can never prove anything. I suppose they decide it’s the 
+outsiders’ fault for being there. -So don’t go to Billibotton, even if you have a knife.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head rather pettishly. “I wouldn’t carry a knife. I don’t know 
+how to use one. Not skillfully.” 
+
+“Then it’s simple, Master Seldon. Stay out.” Tisalver shook his head portentously. 
+“Just stay out.” 
+
+“I may not be able to do that either, “ said Seldon. 
+
+Dors glared at him, clearly annoyed, and said to Tisalver, “Where does one buy a 
+knife? Or may we have one of yours?” 
+
+Casilia said quickly, “No one takes someone else’s knife. You must buy your 
+
+own.” 
+
+Tisalver said, “There are knife stores all over. There aren’t supposed to be. 
+Theoretically they’re illegal, you know. Any appliance store sells them, however. If you 
+see a washing machine on display, that’s a sure sign.” 
+
+“And how does one get to Billibotton?” asked Seldon. 
+
+“By Expressway.” Tisalver looked dubious as he looked at Dors’s frowning 
+expression. 
+
+Seldon said, “And once I reach the Expressway?” 
+
+“Get on the eastbound side and watch for the signs. But if you must go, Master 
+Seldon”-Tisalver hesitated, then said— ’’you mustn’t take Mistress Venabili. Women 
+sometimes are treated . . . worse.” 
+
+“She won’t go, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“I’m afraid she will, “ said Dors with quiet determination. 
+
+
+68 . 
+
+
+
+The appliance store dealer’s mustache was clearly as lush as it had been in his 
+younger days, but it was grizzled now, even though the hair on his head was still black. 
+He touched the mustache out of sheer habit as he gazed at Dors and brushed it back on 
+each side. 
+
+He said, “You’re not a Dahlite.” 
+
+“Yes, but I still want a knife.” 
+
+He said, “It’s against the law to sell knives.” 
+
+Dors said, “I’m not a policewoman or a government agent of any soft. I’m going 
+to Billibotton.” 
+
+He stared at her thoughtfully. “Alone?” 
+
+“With my friend.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of 
+Seldon, who was waiting outside sullenly. 
+
+“You’re buying it for him?” He stared at Seldon and it didn’t take him long to 
+decide. “He’s an outsider too. Let him come in and buy it for himself” 
+
+“He’s not a government agent either. And I’m buying it for myself.” 
+
+The dealer shook his head. “Outsiders are crazy. But if you want to spend some 
+credits, I’ll take them from you. He reached under the counter, brought out a stub, turned 
+it with a slight and expert motion, and the knife blade emerged. 
+
+“Is that the largest you have?” 
+
+“Best woman’s knife made.” 
+
+“Show me a man’s knife.” 
+
+“You don’t want one that’s coo heavy. Do you know how to use one of these 
+things?” 
+
+“I’ll learn and I’m not worried about heavy. Show me a man’s knife.” 
+
+The dealer smiled. “Well, if you want to see one—” He moved farther down the 
+counter and brought up a much fatter stub. He gave it a twist and what appeared to be a 
+butcher’s knife emerged. 
+
+He handed it to her, handle first, still smiling. 
+
+She said, “Show me that twist of yours.” 
+
+He showed her on a second knife, slowly twisting one way to make the blade 
+appear, then the other way to make it disappear. “Twist and squeeze, “ he said. 
+
+“Do it again, sir.” 
+
+The dealer obliged. 
+
+Dors said, “All right, close it and toss me the haft” 
+
+He did, in a slow upward loop. 
+
+She caught it, handed it back, and said, “Faster.” 
+
+He raised his eyebrows and then, without warning, backhanded it to her left side. 
+She made no attempt to bring over her right hand, but caught it with her left and the blade 
+showed tumescently at once-then disappeared. The dealer’s mouth fell open. 
+
+“And this is the largest you have?” she said. 
+
+“It is. If you try to use it, it will just tire you out.” 
+
+“I’ll breathe deeply. I’ll take a second one too.” 
+
+“For your friend?” 
+
+“No. For me.” 
+
+“You plan on using two knives?” 
+
+
+
+“I’ve got two hands.” 
+
+The dealer sighed. “Mistress, please stay out of Billibotton. You don’t know what 
+they do to women there.” 
+
+“I can guess. How do I put these knives on my belt?” 
+
+“Not the one you’ve got on, Mistress. That’s not a knife belt. I can sell you one, 
+though.” 
+
+“Will it hold two knives?” 
+
+“I might have a double belt somewhere. Not much call for them.” 
+
+“I’m calling for them.” 
+
+“I may not have it in your size.” 
+
+“Then we’ll cut it down or something.” 
+
+“It will cost you a lot of credits.” 
+
+“My credit tile will cover it.” 
+
+When she emerged at last, Seldon said sourly, “You look ridiculous with that 
+bulky belt.” 
+
+“Really, Hari? Too ridiculous to go with you to Billibotton? Then let’s both go 
+back to the apartment.” 
+
+“No. I’ll go on by myself. I’ll be safer by myself.” 
+
+Dors said, “There is no use saying that, Hari. We both go back or we both go 
+forward. Under no circumstances do we separate.” 
+
+And somehow the firm look in her blue eyes, the set to her lips, and the manner in 
+which her hands had dropped to the hafts at her belt, convinced Seldon she was serious. 
+
+“Very well, “ he said, “but if you survive and if I ever see Hummin again, my 
+price for continuing to work on psychohistory much as I have grown fond of you-will be 
+your removal. Do you understand?” 
+
+And suddenly Dors smiled. “Forget it. Don’t practice your chivalry on me. 
+Nothing will remove me. Do you understand?” 
+
+69 . 
+
+They got off the Expressway where the sign, flickering in the air, said: 
+BILLIBOTTON. As perhaps an indication of what might be expected, the second I was 
+smeared, a mere blob of fainter light. 
+
+They made their way out of the car and down to the walkway below. It was early 
+afternoon and at first glance, Billibotton seemed much like the part of Dahl they had left. 
+
+The air, however, had a pungent aroma and the walkway was littered with crash. 
+One could tell that auto-sweeps were not to 6e found in the neighborhood. 
+
+And, although the walkway looked ordinary enough, the atmosphere was 
+uncomfortable and as tense as a too-tightly coiled spring. 
+
+Perhaps it was the people. There seemed the normal number of pedestrians, but 
+they were not like pedestrians elsewhere, Seldon thought. Ordinarily, in the press of 
+business, pedestrians were self-absorbed and in the endless crowds on the endless 
+thoroughfares of Trantor, people could only survive-psychologically-by ignoring each 
+other. Eyes slid away. Brains were closed off. There was an artificial privacy with each 
+person enclosed in a velvet fog of his or her own making. Or there was the ritualistic 
+friendliness of an evening promenade in those neighborhoods that indulged in such 
+
+
+
+things. 
+
+But here in Billibotton, these was neither friendliness nor neutral withdrawal. At 
+least not where outsiders were concerned. Every person who passed, moving in either 
+direction, turned to stare at Seldon and Dors. Every pair of eyes, as though attached by 
+invisible cords to the two outsiders, followed them with ill will. 
+
+The clothing of the Billibottoners tended to be smudged, old, and sometimes corn. 
+There was a patina of ill-washed poverty over them and Seldon felt uneasy at the 
+slickness of his own new clothes. 
+
+He said, “Where in Billibotton does Mother Rittah live, do you suppose?” 
+
+“I don’t know, “ said Dors. “You brought us here, so you do the supposing. I 
+intend to confine myself to the task of protection and I think I’m going to find it 
+necessary to do just that.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I assumed it would only be necessary to ask the way of any 
+passerby, but somehow I’m not encouraged to do so.” 
+
+“I don’t blame you. I don’t think you’ll find anyone springing w your assistance.” 
+
+“On the other hand, there are such things as youngsters.” He indicated one with a 
+brief gesture of one hand. A boy who looked to be about twelve-in any case young 
+enough to lack the universal adult male mustache had come to a full halt and was staring 
+at them. 
+
+Dors said, “You’re guessing that a boy that age has not yet developed the full 
+Billibottonian dislike of outsiders.” 
+
+“At any rate, “ said Seldon, “I’m guessing he is scarcely large enough to have 
+developed the full Billibottonian penchant for violence. I suppose he might run away and 
+shout insults from a distance if we approach him, but I doubt he’ll attack us.” 
+
+Seldon raised his voice. “Young man.” 
+
+The boy took a step backward and continued to stare. 
+
+Seldon said, “Come here, “ and beckoned. 
+
+The boy said, “Wa’ fox, guy?” 
+
+“So I can ask you directions. Come closer, so I don’t have to shout.” 
+
+The boy approached two steps closer. His face was smudged, but his eyes were 
+bright and sharp. His sandals were of different make and there was a large patch on one 
+leg of his trousers. I He said, “Wa’ kind o’ directions?” 
+
+“We’re trying to find Mother Rittah.” 
+
+The boy’s eyes flickered. “Wa’ for, guy?” 
+
+“I’m a scholar. Do you know what a scholar 
+
+“Ya went to school?” 
+
+“Yes. Didn’t you?” 
+
+The boy spat to one side in contempt. “Nah.” 
+
+“I want advice from Mother Rittah-if you’ll take me to her.” 
+
+“Ya want your fortune? Ya come to Billibotton, guy, with your fancy clothes, so ! 
+can tell ya your fortune. All bad.” 
+
+“What’s your name, young man?” 
+
+“What’s it to ya?” 
+
+“So we can speak in a more friendly fashion. And so you can take me to Mother 
+Rittah’s place. Do you know where she lives?” 
+
+“Maybe yes, maybe no. My name’s Raych. What’s in it for me if I take ya?” 
+
+
+
+“What would you like, Raych?” 
+
+The boy’s eyes halted at Dors’s belt. Raych said, “The lady got a couple o’ 
+knives. Gimme one and I’ll take ya to Mother Rittah.” 
+
+“Those are grown people’s knives, Raych. You’re too young.” 
+
+“Then I guess I’m too young to know where Mother Rittah lives.” And he looked 
+up slyly through the shaggy halt that curtained his eyes. 
+
+Seldon grew uneasy. It was possible they might attract a crowd. Several men had 
+stopped already, but had then moved on when nothing of interest seemed to be taking 
+place. If, however, the boy grew angry and lashed out at them in word or deed, people 
+would undoubtedly gather. 
+
+He smiled and said, “Can you read, Raych?” 
+
+Raych spat again. “Nab! Who wants to read?” 
+
+“Can you use a computer?” 
+
+“A talking computer? Sure. Anyone can.” 
+
+“I’ll tell you what, then. You take me to the nearest computer store and I’ll buy 
+you a little computer all your own and software that will teach you to read. A few weeks 
+and you’ll be able to read.” 
+
+It seemed to Seldon that the boy’s eyes sparkled at the thought, but-if so-they 
+hardened at once. *’Nab, Knife or nothin’.” 
+
+“That’s the point, Raych. You learn to read and don’t tell anyone and you can 
+surprise people. After a while you can bet them you can read. Bet them five credits. You 
+can win a few extra credits that way and you can buy a knife of your own.” 
+
+The boy hesitated. “Nab! No one will bet me. No one got credits.” 
+
+“If you can read, you can get a job in a knife store and you can save your wages 
+and get a knife at a discount. How about that?” 
+
+“When ya gonna buy the talking computer?” 
+
+“Right now. I’ll give it to you when I see Mother Rittah.” 
+
+“You got credits?” 
+
+“I have a credit tile.” 
+
+“Let’s see ya buy the computer.” 
+
+The transaction was carried through, but when the boy reached for it, Seldon 
+shook his head and put it inside his pouch. “You’ve got to get me to Mother Rittah first, 
+Raych. Are you sure you know where to find her?” 
+
+Raych allowed a look of contempt to cross his face. “Sure I do. I’ll take ya there, 
+only ya better hand over the computer when we get there or I’ll get some guys I know 
+after you and the lady, so ya better watch out.” 
+
+“You don’t have to threaten us, “ said Seldon. “We’ll take care of our end of the 
+
+deal.” 
+
+Raych led them quickly along the walkway, past curious stares. 
+
+Seldon was silent during the walk and so was Dors. Dors was far less lost in her 
+own thoughts, though, for she clearly remained conscious of the surrounding people at all 
+times. She kept meeting, with a level glare, the eyes of those passersby that turned toward 
+them. On occasion, when there were footsteps behind them, she turned to look grimly 
+back. 
+
+And then Raych stopped and said, “In here. She ain’t homeless, ya know.” 
+
+They followed him into an apartment complex and Seldon, who had had the 
+
+
+
+intention of following their route with a view to retracing his steps later, was quickly lost. 
+
+He said, “How do you know your way through these alleys, Raych?” 
+
+The boy shrugged. “I been loafin’ through them since I was a kid, “ he said. 
+“Besides, the apartments are numbered-where they ain’t broken offend there’s arrows and 
+things. You can’t get lost if you know the tricks.” 
+
+Raych knew the tricks, apparently, and they wandered deeper into the complex. 
+Hanging over it all was an air of total decay: disregarded debris, inhabitants slinking past 
+in clear resentment of the outsiders’ invasion. Unruly youngsters ran along the alleys in 
+pursuit of some game or other. Some of them yelled, “Hey, get out o’ the way!” when 
+their levitating ball narrowly missed Dors. 
+
+And finally, Raych stopped before a dark scarred door on which the number 2782 
+glowed feebly. 
+
+“This is it, “ he said and held out his hand. 
+
+“First let’s see who’s inside, “ said Seldon softly. He pushed the signal button and 
+nothing happened. 
+
+“It don’t work, “ said Raych. “Ya gotta bang. Loud. She don’t hear too good.” 
+
+Seldon pounded his fist on the door and was rewarded with the sound of 
+movement inside. A shrill voice called out, “Who wants Mother Rittah?” 
+
+Seldon shouted, “Two scholars!” 
+
+He tossed the small computer, with its small package of software attached, to 
+Raych, who snatched it, grinned, and took off at a rapid run. Seldon then turned to face 
+the opening door and Mother Rittah. 
+
+70 . 
+
+Mother Rittah was well into her seventies, perhaps, but had the kind of face that, 
+at first sight, seemed to belie that. Plump cheeks, a little mouth, a small round chin 
+slightly doubled. She was very short-not quite 1.5 meters tall— and had a thick body. 
+
+But there were fine wrinkles about her eyes and when she smiled, as she smiled at 
+the sight of them, others broke out over her face. And she moved with difficulty. 
+
+“Come in, come in, “ she said in a soft high-pitched voice and peered at them as 
+though her eyesight was beginning to fail. “Outsiders . . . Outworlders even. Am I right? 
+You don’t seem to have the Trantor smell about you.” 
+
+Seldon wished she hadn’t mentioned smell. The apartment, overcrowded and 
+littered with small possessions that seemed dim and dusty, reeked with food odors that 
+were on the edge of rancidity. The air was so thick and clinging that he was sure his 
+cloches would smell strongly of it when they left. 
+
+He said, “You are sight, Mother Rittah. I am Hari Seldon of Helicon. My friend is 
+Dors Venabili of Cinna.” 
+
+“So, “ she said, looking about for an unoccupied spot on the floor where she could 
+invite them to sit, but finding none suitable. 
+
+Dors said, “We are willing to stand, Mother.” 
+
+“What?” she looked up at Dors. “You must speak briskly, my child. My hearing is 
+not what it was when I was your age.” 
+
+“Why don’t you get a hearing device?” said Seldon, raising his voice. 
+
+“It wouldn’t help, Master Seldon. Something seems to be wrong with the nerve 
+
+
+
+and I have no money for nerve rebuilding. -You have come to learn the future from old 
+Mother Rittah?” 
+
+“Not quite, “ said Seldon. “I have come to learn the past.” 
+
+“Excellent. It is such a strain to decide what people want to hear.” 
+
+“It must 6e quite an art, “ said Dors, smiling. 
+
+“It seems easy, but one has to he properly convincing. I earn my fees.” 
+
+“If you have a credit outlet, “ said Seldon. “We will pay any reasonable fees if 
+you tell us about Earth-without cleverly designing what you tell us to suit what we want 
+to hear. We wish to hear the truth.” 
+
+The old woman, who had been shuffling about the room, making adjustments here 
+and there, as though to make it all prettier and more suitable for important visitors, 
+stopped shots. “What do you want to know about Earth?” 
+
+“What is it, to begin with?” 
+
+The old woman turned and seemed to gaze off into space. When she spoke, her 
+voice was low and steady. 
+
+“It is a world, a very old planet. It is forgotten and lost.” 
+
+Dors said, “It is not part of history. We know that much.” 
+
+“It comes before history, child, “ said Mother Rittah solemnly. “It existed in the 
+dawn of the Galaxy and before the dawn. It was the only world with humanity.” She 
+nodded firmly. 
+
+Seldon said, “Was another name for Earth . . . Aurora?” 
+
+And now Mother Rittah’s face misted into a frown. “Where did you hear that?” 
+
+“In my wanderings. I have heard of an old forgotten world named Aurora on 
+which humanity lived in primordial peace.” 
+
+“It’s a lie. “ She wiped her mouth as though to get the taste of what she had just 
+heard out of it. “That name you mention must never be mentioned except as the place of 
+Evil. It was the beginning of Evil. Earth was alone till Evil came, along with its sister 
+worlds. Evil nearly destroyed Earth, but Earth rallied and destroyed Evil with the help of 
+heroes.” 
+
+“Earth was before this Evil. Are you sure of that?” 
+
+“Long before. Earth was alone in the Galaxy for thousands of years millions of 
+
+years.” 
+
+“Millions of years? Humanity existed on it for millions of years with no other 
+people on any other world?” 
+
+“That’s true. That’s true. That’s true. “ 
+
+“But how do you know all this? Is it all in a computer program? Or a printout? Do 
+you have anything I can read?” 
+
+Mother Rittah shook her head. “I heard the old stories from my mother, who 
+heard it from hers, and so on far back. I have no children, so I tell the stories to others, 
+but it may come to an end. This is a time of disbelief.” 
+
+Dors said, “Not really, Mother. There are people who speculate about prehistoric 
+times and who study some of the tales of lost worlds.” 
+
+Mother Rittah made a motion of her arm as though to wipe it away. “They look at 
+it with cold eyes. Scholarly. They try to fit it in with their notions. I could tell you stories 
+for a year of the great hero Ba-Lee, but you would have no time to listen and I have lost 
+the strength to tell.” 
+
+
+
+Seldon said, “Have you ever heard of robots?” 
+
+The old woman shuddered and her voice was almost a scream. “Why do you ask 
+such things? Those were artificial human beings, evil in themselves and the work of the 
+Evil worlds. They were destroyed and should never be mentioned.” 
+
+“There was one special robot, wasn’t there, that the Evil worlds hated?” 
+
+Mother Rittah tottered toward Seldon and peered into his eyes. He could feel her 
+hot breath on his face. “Have you come to mock me? You know of these things and yet 
+you ask? Why do you ask?” 
+
+“Because I wish to know.” 
+
+“There was an artificial human being who helped Earth. He was DaNee, friend of 
+Ba-Lee. He never died and lives somewhere, waiting for his time to return. None knows 
+when that time will be, but someday he will come and restore the great old days and 
+remove all cruelty, injustice, and misery. That is the promise.” At this, she closed her 
+eyes and smiled, as if remembering . . . 
+
+Seldon waited a while in silence, then sighed and said, “Thank you, Mother 
+Rittah. You have been very helpful. What is your fee?” 
+
+“So pleasant to meet Outworlders, “ the old woman replied. “Ten credits. May I 
+offer you some refreshment?” 
+
+“No, thank you, “ said Seldon earnesdy. “Please take twenty. You need only tell 
+us how to get back to the Expressway from here. -And, Mother Rittah, if you can arrange 
+to have some of your tales of Earth put into a computer disc, I will pay you well.” 
+
+“I would need so much strength. How well?” 
+
+“It would depend on how long the story is and how well it is told. I might pay a 
+thousand credits.” 
+
+Mother Rittah licked her lips. “A thousand credits? But how will I find you when 
+the story is told?” 
+
+“I will give you the computer code number at which I can be reached.” 
+
+After Seldon gave Mother Rittah the code number, he and Dors left, thankful for 
+the comparatively clean odor of the alley outside. They walked briskly in the direction 
+indicated by the old woman. 
+
+Dors said, “That wasn’t a very long interview, Hari.” 
+
+“I know. The surroundings were terribly unpleasant and I felt I had learned 
+enough. Amazing how these folktales tend to magnify.” 
+
+“What do you mean, ‘magnify’?” 
+
+“Well, the Mycogenians fill their Aurora with human beings who lived for 
+centuries and the Dahlites fill their Earth with a humanity that lived for millions of years. 
+And both talk of a robot that lives forever. Still, it makes one think.” 
+
+“As far as millions of years go, there’s room for-Where are we going?” 
+
+“Mother Rittah said we go in this direction till we reach a rest area, then follow 
+the sign for CENTRAL WALKWAY, bearing left, and keep on following the sign. Did 
+we pass a rest area on the way in?., 
+
+“We may be leaving by a route different from the one we came in. I don’t 
+remember a rest area, but I wasn’t watching the route. I was keeping my eye on the 
+people we passed and-’ 
+
+Her voice died away. Up ahead the alley swelled outward on both sides. 
+
+Seldon remembered. They had passed that way. There had been a couple of ratty 
+
+
+
+couch pads resting on the walkway floor on either side. 
+
+There was, however, no need for Dors to watch passersby going out as she had 
+coming in. There were no passersby. But up ahead in the rest area they spotted a group of 
+men, rather large-sized for Dahlites, mustaches bristling, bare upper arms muscular and 
+glistening under the yellowish indoor light of the walkway. 
+
+Clearly, they were waiting for the Outworlders and, almost automatically, Seldon 
+and Dors came to a halt. For a moment or two, the tableau held. Then Seldon looked 
+behind him hastily. Two or three additional men had stepped into view. 
+
+Seldon said between his teeth, “We’re trapped. I should not have let you come, 
+
+Dors.” 
+
+“On the contrary. This is why I’m here, but was it worth your seeing Mother 
+Rittah?” 
+
+“If we get out of this, it was.” 
+
+Seldon then said in a loud and firm voice, “May we pass?” 
+
+One of the men ahead stepped forward. He was fully Seldon’s height of 1.73 
+meters, but broader in the shoulders and much more muscular. A bit flabby at the waist, 
+though, Seldon noted. 
+
+“I’m Marron, “ he said with self-satisfied significance, as though the name ought 
+to have meaning, “and I’m here to tell you we don’t like Outworlders in our district. You 
+want to come in, all right— but if you want to leave, you’ll have to pay.” 
+
+“Very well. How much?” 
+
+“All you’ve got. You rich Outworlders have credit tiles, right? Just hand them 
+
+over.” 
+
+“No.” 
+
+“No point saying no. We’ll just take them.” 
+
+“You can’t take them without killing me or hurting me and they won’t work 
+without my voiceprint. My normal voiceprint.” 
+
+“That’s not so, Master-see, I’m being polite-we can take them away from you 
+without hurting you very much.” 
+
+“How many of you big strong men will it take? Nine? No.” Seldon counted 
+rapidly. “Ten.” 
+
+“Just one. Me.” 
+
+“With no help?” 
+
+‘ Just me.” 
+
+“If the rest of you will clear away and give us room, I would like to see you cry it, 
+Marron.” 
+
+“You don’t have a knife, Master. You want one?” 
+
+“No, use yours to make the fight even. I’ll fight without one.” 
+
+Marron looked about at the others and said, “Hey, this puny guy is a sport. He 
+don’t even sound scared. That’s sort of nice. It would be a shame to hurt him. -I tell you 
+what, Master. I’ll take the girl. If you want me to stop, hand over your credit tile and her 
+tile and use your right voices to activate them. If you say no, then after I’m through with 
+the girl . . . and that’ll take some time”-he laughed— ”I’ll just have to hurt you.” 
+
+“No, “ said Seldon. “Let the woman go. I’ve challenged you to a fight one to one, 
+you with a knife, me without. If you want bigger odds, I’ll fight two of you, but let the 
+woman go.” 
+
+
+
+“Stop, Hari!” cried out Dors. “If he wants me, let him come and get me. You stay 
+right where you are, Hari, and don’t move.” 
+
+“You hear that?” said Marron, grinning broadly. “‘You stay right where you are, 
+Hari, and don’t move.’ I think the little lady wants me. You two, keep him still.” 
+
+Each of Seldon’s arms were caught in an iron grip and he felt the sharp point of a 
+knife in his back. 
+
+“Don’t move, “ said a harsh whisper in his ear, “and you can watch. The lady will 
+probably like it. Marron’s pretty good at this.” 
+
+Dors called out again. “Don’t move, Hari!” She corned to face Marron 
+watchfully, her half-closed hands poised near her belt. 
+
+He closed in on her purposefully and she waited till he had come within arm’s 
+length, when suddenly her own arms flashed and Marron found himself facing two large 
+knives. 
+
+For a moment, he leaned backward and then he laughed. “The little lady has two 
+knives-knives like the big boys have. And I’ve only got one. But that’s fair enough.” His 
+knife was swiftly out. “I hate to have to cut you, little lady, because it will be more fun 
+for both of us if I don’t. Maybe I can just knock them out of your hands, huh?” 
+
+Dors said, “I don’t want to kill you. I’ll do all I can to avoid doing so. Just the 
+same, I call on all to witness, that if I do kill you, it is to protect my friend, as I am honor- 
+bound to do.” 
+
+Macron pretended to be terrified. “Oh, please don’t kill me, little lady.” Then he 
+burst into laughter and was joined by the other Dahlites present. 
+
+Macron lunged with his knife, quite wide of the mark. He tried it again, then a 
+third time, but Dors never budged. She made no attempt to fend off any motion that was 
+not truly aimed at her. 
+
+Macron’s expression darkened. He was trying to make her respond with panic, but 
+he was only making himself seem ineffectual. The next lunge was directly at her and 
+Dors’s left-hand blade moved flashingly and caught his with a force that pushed his arm 
+aside. Her right-hand blade flashed inward and made a diagonal slit in his T-shirt. A thin 
+bloody line smeared the dark-haired skin beneath. 
+
+Macron looked down at himself in shock as the onlookers gasped in surprise. 
+Seldon felt the grip on him weaken slightly as the two who held him were distracted by a 
+duel not going quite as they had expected. He tensed himself. 
+
+Now Macron lunged again and this time his left hand shot outward to enclose 
+Dors’s right wrist. Again Dors’s left-hand blade caught his knife and held it motionless, 
+while her right hand twisted agilely and drew downward, even as Macron’s left hand 
+closed upon it. It closed on nothing but the blade and when he opened his hand there was 
+a bloody line down the palm. 
+
+Dors sprang back and Macron, aware of the blood on his chest and hand, roared 
+out chokingly, “Someone toss me another knife!” 
+
+There was hesitation and then one of the onlookers tossed his own knife 
+underhanded. Macron reached for it, but Dors was quicker. Her right-hand blade struck 
+the thrown knife and sent it flying backward, whirling as it went. 
+
+Seldon felt the grips on his arms weaken further. He lifted them suddenly, 
+pushing up and forward, and was free. His two captors turned toward him with a sudden 
+shout, but he quickly kneed one in the groin and elbowed the other in the solar plexus and 
+
+
+
+both went down. 
+
+He knelt to draw the knives of each and rose as double-armed as Dors. Unlike 
+Dors, Seldon did not know how to handle the blades, but he knew the Dahlites would 
+scarcely be aware of that 
+
+Dor said, ‘ Just keep them off, Hari. Don’t attack yet. -Macron, my next stroke 
+will not be a scratch.” 
+
+Macron, totally enraged, roared incoherently and charged blindly, attempting by 
+sheer kinetic energy to overwhelm his opponent. Dors, dipping and sidestepping, ducked 
+under his right arm, kicked her foot against his right ankle, and down he crashed, his 
+knife flying. 
+
+She then knelt, placed one blade against the back of his neck and the other against 
+his throat, and said, “Yield!” 
+
+With another yell, Macron struck out against her with one arm, pushed her to one 
+side, then scrambled to his feet. 
+
+He had not yet stood up completely when she was upon him, one knife slashing 
+downward and hacking away a section of his mustache. This time he yowled like a large 
+animal in agony, clapping his hand to his face. When he drew it away, it was dripping 
+blood. 
+
+Dors shouted, “It won’t grow again, Macron. Some of the lip went with it. Attack 
+once more and you’re dead meat.” 
+
+She waited, but Macron had had enough. He stumbled away, moaning, leaving a 
+trail of blood. 
+
+Dors turned toward the others. The two that Seldon had knocked down were still 
+lying there, unarmed and not anxious to get up. She bent down, cut their belts with one of 
+her knives and then slit their trousers. 
+
+“This way, you’ll have to hold your pants up when you walk, “ she said. 
+
+She stared at the seven men still on their feet, who were watching her with 
+awestruck fascination. “And which of you threw the knife?” 
+
+There was silence. 
+
+She said, “It doesn’t matter to me. Come one at a time or all together, but each 
+time I slash, someone dies.” 
+
+And with one accord, the seven turned and scurried away. 
+
+Dors lifted her eyebrows and said to Seldom “This time, at least, Hummin can’t 
+complain that I failed to protect you.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I still can’t believe what I saw. I didn’t know you could do anything 
+like that— or talk like that either.” 
+
+Dors merely smiled. “You have your talents too. We make a good pair. Here, 
+retract your knife blades and put them into your pouch. I think the news will spread with 
+enormous speed and we can get out of Billibotton without fear of being stopped.” 
+
+She was quite right. 
+
+Undercover 
+
+
+DAVAN- ... In the unsettled times marking the final centuries of the First 
+Galactic Empire, the typical sources of unrest arose from the fact that political and 
+military leaders jockeyed for “supreme” power (a supremacy that grew more worthless 
+
+
+
+with each decade). Only rarely was there anything that could be called a popular 
+movement prior to the advent of psychohistory. In this connection, one intriguing 
+example involves Davan, of whom little is actually known, but who may have met with 
+Hari Seldon at one time when . . . 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+72 . 
+
+Both Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili had taken rather lingering baths, making use 
+of the somewhat primitive facilities available to them in the Tisalver household. They had 
+changed their clothing and were in Seldon’ s room when Jirad Tisalver returned in the 
+evening. His signal at the door was (or seemed) rather timid. The buzz did not last long. 
+
+Seldon opened the door and said pleasantly, “Good evening, Master Tisalver. And 
+Mistress.” 
+
+She was standing right behind her husband, forehead puckered into a puzzled 
+
+frown. 
+
+Tisalver said tentatively, as though he was unsure of the situation, “Are you and 
+Mistress Venabili both well?” He nodded his head as though trying to elicit an 
+affirmative by body language. 
+
+“Quite well. In and out of Billibotton without trouble and we’re all washed and 
+changed. There’s no smell left.” Seldon lifted his chin as he said it, smiling, tossing the 
+sentence over Tisalver s shoulder to his wife. 
+
+She sniffed loudly, as though testing the matter. 
+
+Still tentatively, Tisalver said, “I understand there was a knife fight.” 
+
+Seldon raised his eyebrows. “Is that the story?” 
+
+“You and the Mistress against a hundred thugs, we were cold, and you killed them 
+all. Is that so?” There was the reluctant sound of deep respect in his voice. 
+
+“Absolutely not, “ Dors put in with sudden annoyance. “That’s ridiculous. What 
+do you think we are? Mass murderers? And do you think a hundred thugs would remain 
+in place, waiting the considerable time it would take me-us-to kill them all? I mean, think 
+about it.” 
+
+“That’s what they’re saying, “ said Casilia Tisalver with shrill firmness. “We 
+can’t have that sort of thing in this house.” 
+
+“In the first place, “ said Seldon, “it wasn’t in this house. In the second, it wasn’t 
+a hundred men, it was ten. In the third, no one was killed. There was some altercation 
+back and forth, after which they left and made way for us.” 
+
+“They just made way. Do you expect me to believe that, Outworlders?” demanded 
+Mistress Tisalver belligerently. 
+
+Seldon sighed. At the slightest stress, human beings seemed to divide themselves 
+into antagonistic groups. He said, “Well, I grant you one of them was cut a little. Not 
+seriously.” 
+
+“And you weren’t hurt at all?” said Tisalver. The admiration in his voice was 
+more marked. 
+
+“Not a scratch, “ said Seldon. “Mistress Venabili handles two knives excellently 
+
+well.” 
+
+“I dare say, “ said Mistress Tisalver, her eyes dropping to Dors’s belt, “and that’s 
+
+
+
+not what I want to have going on here.” 
+
+Dors said sternly, “As long as no one attacks us here, that’s what you won’t have 
+
+here.” 
+
+“But on account of you, “ said Mistress Tisalver, “we have trash from the street 
+standing at the doorway.” 
+
+“My love, “ said Tisalver soothingly, “let us not anger—” 
+
+“Why?” spat his wife with contempt. “Are you afraid of her knives? I would like 
+to see her use them here.” 
+
+“I have no intention of using them here, “ said Dors with a sniff as loud as any 
+that Mistress Tisalver had produced. “What is this trash from the street you’re talking 
+about?” 
+
+Tisalver said, “What my wife means is that an urchin from Billibotton-at least, 
+judging by his appearance-wishes to see you and we are not accustomed to that sort of 
+thing in this neighborhood. It undermines our standing.” He sounded apologetic. 
+
+Seldon said, “Well, Master Tisalver, we’ll go outside, find out what it’s all about, 
+and send him on his business as quickly—” 
+
+“No. Wait, “ said Dors, annoyed. “These are our rooms. We pay for them. We 
+decide who visits us and who does not. If there is a young man outside from Billibotton, 
+he is nonetheless a Dahlite. More important, he’s a Trantorian. Still more important, he’s 
+a citizen of the Empire and a human being. Most important, by asking to see us, he 
+becomes our guest. Therefore, we invite him in to see us.” 
+
+Mistress Tisalver didn’t move. Tisalver himself seemed uncertain. 
+
+Dors said, “Since you say I killed a hundred bullies in Billibotton, you surely do 
+not think I am afraid of a boy or, for that matter, of you two.” Her right hand dropped 
+casually to her belt. 
+
+Tisalver said with sudden energy, “Mistress Venabili, we do not intend to offend 
+you. Of course these rooms are yours and you can entertain whomever you wish here.” 
+
+He stepped back, pulling his indignant wife with him, undergoing a burst of resolution for 
+which he might conceivably have to pay afterward. 
+
+Dors looked after them sternly. 
+
+Seldon smiled dryly. “How unlike you, Dors. I thought I was the one who 
+quixotically got into trouble and that you were the calm and practical one whose only aim 
+was to prevent trouble.” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “I can’t bear to hear a human being spoken of with 
+contempt just because of his group identification-even by other human beings. It’s these 
+respectable people here who create those hooligans out there.” 
+
+“And other respectable people, “ said Seldon, “who create these respectable 
+people. These mutual animosities are as much a part of humanity—” 
+
+“Then you’ll have to deal with it in your psychohistory, won’t you?” 
+
+“Most certainly-if there is ever a psychohistory with which to deal with anything 
+at all. -Ah, here comes the urchin under discussion. And it’s Raych, which somehow 
+doesn’t surprise me.” 
+
+73 . 
+
+
+Raych entered, looking about, clearly intimidated. The forefinger of his right hand 
+
+
+
+reached for his upper lip as though wondering when he would begin to feel the first 
+downy hairs there. 
+
+He turned to the clearly outraged Mistress Tisalver and bowed clumsily. “Thank 
+ya, Missus. Ya got a lovely place.” 
+
+Then, as the door slammed behind him, he turned to Seldon and Dors with an air 
+of easy connoisseurship. “Nice place, guys.” 
+
+“I’m glad you like it, “ said Seldon solemnly. “How did you know we were 
+
+here?” 
+
+“Followed ya. How’d ya think? Hey, lady”-he turned to Dors =‘you don’t fight 
+like no dame.” 
+
+“Have you watched many dames fight?” asked Dors, amused. 
+
+Raych rubbed his nose, “No, never seen none whatever. They don’t carry knives, 
+except little ones to scare kids with. Never scared me.” 
+
+“I’m sure they didn’t. What do you do to make dames draw their knives?” 
+
+“Nothin’. You just kid around a little. You holler, ‘Hey, lady, lemme-’ “ 
+
+He thought about it for a moment and said, “Nothin’.” 
+
+Dors said, “Well, don’t try that on me.” 
+
+“Ya kiddin’? After what ya did to Marron? Hey, lady, where’d you learn to fight 
+that way?” 
+
+“On my own world.” 
+
+“Could ya teach me?” 
+
+“Is that what you came here to see me about?” 
+
+“Akchaly, no. I came to bring ya a kind of message.” 
+
+“From someone who wants to fight me?” 
+
+“No one wants to fight ya, lady. Listen, lady, ya got a reputation now. Everybody 
+knows ya. You just walk down anywhere in old Billibotton and all the guys will step 
+aside and let ya pass and grin and make sure they don’t look cross-eyed at ya. Oh, lady, 
+ya got it made. That’s why he wants to see ya.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Raych, just exactly who wants to see us?” 
+
+“Guy called Davan.” 
+
+“And who is he?” 
+
+“Just a guy. He lives in Billibotton and don’t carry no knife.” 
+
+“And he stays alive, Raych?” 
+
+“He reads a lot and he helps the guys there when they get in trouble with the 
+gov’ment. They kinda leave him alone. He don’t need no knife.” 
+
+“Why didn’t he come himself, then?” said Dors. “Why did he send you?” 
+
+“He don’t like this place. He says it makes him sick. He says all the people here, 
+they lick the gov’ment’ s— ” He paused, looked dubiously at the two Outworlders, and 
+said, “Anyway, he won’t come here. He said they’d let me in cause I was only a kid.” He 
+grinned. “They almost didn’t, did they? I mean that lady there who looked like she was 
+smellin’ somethin’?” 
+
+He stopped suddenly, abashed, and looked down at himself. “Ya don’t get much 
+chance to wash where I come from.” 
+
+“It’s all right, “ said Dors, smiling. “Where are we supposed to meet, then, if he 
+won’t come here? After all-if you don’t mind we don’t feel like going to Billibotton.” 
+
+“I told ya, “ said Raych indignantly. “Ya get free run of Billibotton, I swear. 
+
+
+
+Besides, where he lives no one will bother ya.” 
+
+“Where is it?” asked Seldon. 
+
+“I can take ya there. It ain’t far.” 
+
+“And why does he want to see us?” asked Dors. 
+
+“Dunno. But he says like this—” Raych half-closed his eyes in an effort to 
+remember. “‘Tell them I wanna see the man who talked to a Dahlite heatsinker like he 
+was a human being and the woman who beat Marron with knives and didn’t kill him 
+when she mighta done so.’ I think I got it right.” 
+
+Seldon smiled. “I think you did. Is he ready for us now?” 
+
+“He’s waiting.” 
+
+“Then we’ll come with you.” He looked at Dors with a trace of doubt in his eyes. 
+
+She said, “All right. I’m willing. Perhaps it won’t be a trap of some sort. Hope 
+springs eternal—” 
+
+74 . 
+
+There was a pleasant glow to the evening light when they emerged, a faint violet 
+touch and a pinkish edge to the simulated sunset clouds that were scudding along. Dahl 
+might have complaints of their treatment by the Imperial rulers of Trantor, but surely 
+there was nothing wrong with the weather the computers spun out for them. 
+
+Dors said in a low voice, “We seem to be celebrities. No mistake about that.” 
+
+Seldon brought his eyes down from the supposed sky and was immediately aware 
+of a fair-sized crowd around the apartment house in which the Tisalvers lived. 
+
+Everyone in the crowd stared at them intently. When it was clear that the two 
+Outworlders had become aware of the attention, a low murmur ran through the crowd, 
+which seemed to be on the point of breaking out into applause. 
+
+Dors said, “Now I can see where Mistress Tisalver would find this annoying. I 
+should have been a little more sympathetic.” 
+
+The crowd was, for the most part, poorly dressed and it was not hard to guess that 
+many of the people were from Billibotton. 
+
+On impulse, Seldon smiled and raised one hand in a mild greeting that was met 
+with applause. One voice, lost in the safe anonymity of the crowd called out, “Can the 
+lady show us some knife tricks?” 
+
+When Dors called back, “No, I only draw in anger, “ there was instant laughter. 
+
+One man stepped forward. He was clearly not from Billibotton and bore no 
+obvious mark of being a Dahlite. He had only a small mustache, for one thing, and it was 
+brown, not black. He said, “Mario Tanto of the ‘Trantorian HV News.’ Can we have you 
+in focus for a bit for our nightly holocast?” 
+
+“No, “ said Dors shortly. “No interviews.” 
+
+The newsman did not budge. “I understand you were in a fight with a great many 
+men in Billibotton— and won.” He smiled. “That’s news, that is.” 
+
+“No, “ said Dors. “We met some men in Billibotton, talked to them, and then 
+moved on. That’s all there is to it and that’s all you’re going to get.” 
+
+“What’s your name? You don’t sound like a Trantorian.” 
+
+“I have no name.” 
+
+“And your friend’s name?” 
+
+
+
+“He has no name.” 
+
+The newsman looked annoyed, “Look, lady. You’re news and I’m just trying to 
+do my job.” 
+
+Raych pulled at Dors’s sleeve. She leaned down and listened to his earnest 
+whisper. 
+
+She nodded and straightened up again. “I don’t think you’re a newsman, Mr. 
+Tanto. What I think you are is an Imperial agent trying to make trouble for Dahl. There 
+was no fight and you’re trying to manufacture news concerning one as a way of justifying 
+an Imperial expedition into Billibotton. I wouldn’t stay here if I were you. I don’t think 
+you’re very popular with these people.” 
+
+The crowd had begun to mutter at Dors’s first words. They grew louder now and 
+began to drift, slowly and in a menacing way, in the direction of Tanto. He looked 
+nervously around and began to move away. 
+
+Dors raised her voice. “Let him go. Don’t anyone touch him. Don’t give him any 
+excuse to report violence.” 
+
+And they parted before him. 
+
+Raych said, “Aw, lady, you shoulda let them rough him up.” 
+
+“Bloodthirsty boy, “ said Dors, “take us to this friend of yours.” 
+
+75 . 
+
+They met the man who called himself Davan in a room behind a dilapidated diner. 
+Far behind. 
+
+Raych led the way, once more showing himself as much at home in the burrows 
+of Billibotton as a mole would be in tunnels underground in Helicon. 
+
+It was Dors Venabili whose caution first manifested itself. She stopped and said, 
+“Come back, Raych. Exactly where are we going?” 
+
+“To Davan, “ said Raych, looking exasperated. “I told ya.” 
+
+“But this is a deserted area. There’s no one living here.” Dors looked about with 
+obvious distaste. The surroundings were lifeless and what light panels were there were 
+did not glower did so only dimly. 
+
+“It’s the way Davan likes it, “ said Raych. “He’s always changing around, staying 
+here, staying there. Ya know . . . changing around.” 
+
+“Why?” demanded Dors. 
+
+“It’s safer, lady.” 
+
+“From whom?” 
+
+“From the gov’ment” 
+
+“Why would the government want Davan?” 
+
+“I dunno, lady. Tell ya what. I’ll tell ya where he is and tell ya how to go and ya 
+go on alone-if ya don’t want me to take ya.” 
+
+Seldon said, “No, Raych, I’m pretty sure we’ll get lost without you. In fact, you 
+had better wait till we’re through so you can lead us back.” 
+
+Raych said at once, “What’s in it f’me? Ya expect me to hang around when I get 
+hungry?” 
+
+“You hang around and get hungry, Raych, and I’ll buy you a big dinner. Anything 
+you like.” 
+
+
+
+“Ya say that now. Mister. How do I know?” 
+
+Dors’s hand flashed and it was holding a knife, blade exposed, “You’re not 
+calling us liars, are you, Raych?” 
+
+Raych’s eyes opened wide. He did not seem frightened by the threat. He said, 
+“Hey, I didn’t see that. Do it again.” 
+
+“I’ll do it afterward-if you’re still here. Otherwise”-Dors glared at him “we’ll 
+track you down.” 
+
+“Aw, lady, come on, “ said Raych. “Ya ain’t gonna track me down. Ya ain’t that 
+kind. But I’ll be here.” He struck a pose. “Ya got my word.” 
+
+And he led them onward in silence, though the sound of their shoes was hollow in 
+the empty corridors. 
+
+Davan looked up when they entered, a wild look that softened when he saw 
+Raych. He gestured quickly toward the two others questioningly. 
+
+Raych said, “These are the guys.” And, grinning, he left. 
+
+Seldon said, “I am Hari Seldon. The young lady is Dors Venabili.” 
+
+He regarded Davan curiously. Davan was swarthy and had the thick black 
+mustache of the Dahlite male, but in addition he had a stubble of beard. He was the first 
+Dahlite whom Seldon had seen who had not been meticulously shaven. Even the bullies 
+of Billibotton had been smooth of cheek and chin. 
+
+Seldon said, “What is your name, sir?” 
+
+“Davan. Raych must have told you.” 
+
+“Your second name.” 
+
+“I am only Davan. Were you followed here, Master Seldon?” 
+
+“No, I’m sure we weren’t. If we had, then by sound or sight, I expect Raych 
+would have known. And if he had not, Mistress Venabili would have.” 
+
+Dors smiled slightly. “You have faith in me, Hari.” 
+
+“More all the time, “ he said thoughtfully. 
+
+Davan stirred uneasily. “Yet you’ve already been found.” 
+
+“Found?” 
+
+“Yes, I have heard of this supposed newsman.” 
+
+“Already?” Seldon looked faintly surprised. “But I suspect he really was a 
+newsman . . . and harmless. We tatted him an Imperial agent at Raych’s suggestion, 
+which was a good idea. The surrounding crowd grew threatening and we got rid of him.” 
+
+“No, “ said Davan, “he was what you called him. My people know the man and 
+he does work for the Empire, —but then you do not do as I do. You do not use a false 
+name and change your place of abode. You go under your own names, making no effort 
+to remain undercover. You are Hari Seldon, the mathematician.” 
+
+“Yes, I am, “ said Seldon. “Why should I invent a false name?” 
+
+“The Empire wants you, does it not?” 
+
+Seldon shrugged. “I stay in places where the Empire cannot reach out to take me.” 
+
+“Not openly, but the Empire doesn’t have to work openly. I would urge you to 
+disappear . . . really disappear.” 
+
+“Like you ... as you say, “ said Seldom looking about with an edge of distaste. 
+The room was as dead as the corridors he had walked through. It was musty through and 
+through and it was overwhelmingly depressing. 
+
+“Yes, “ said Davan. “You could be useful to us.” 
+
+
+
+“In what way?” 
+
+“You talked to a young man named Yugo Amaryl.” 
+
+“Yes, I did.” 
+
+“Amaryl tells me that you can predict the future.” 
+
+Seldon sighed heavily. He was tired of standing in this empty room. Davan was 
+sitting on a cushion and there were other cushions available, but they did not look clean. 
+Nor did he wish to lean against the mildew-streaked wall. 
+
+He said, “Either you misunderstood Amaryl or Amaryl misunderstood me. What I 
+have done is to prove that it is possible to choose staffing conditions from which 
+historical forecasting does not descend into chaotic conditions, but can become 
+predictable within limits. However, what those starting conditions might be I do not 
+know, nor am I sure that those conditions can be found by any one person— or by any 
+number of people-in a finite length of time. Do you understand me?” 
+
+‘No.’ 
+
+Seldon sighed again. “Then let me try once more. It is possible to predict the 
+future, but it may be impossible to find out how to take advantage of that possibility. Do 
+you understand?” 
+
+Davan looked at Seldon darkly, then at Dors. “Then you cant predict the future.” 
+
+“Now you have the point, Master Davan.” 
+
+‘Just call me Davan. But you may be able to learn to predict the future someday.��� 
+
+“That is conceivable.” 
+
+“Then that’s why the Empire wants you.” 
+
+“No, “ Seldon raised his finger didactically. “It’s my idea that that is why the 
+Empire is not making an overwhelming effort to get me. They might like to have me if I 
+can be picked up without trouble, but they know that right now I know nothing and that it 
+is therefore not worth upsetting the delicate peace of Trantor by interfering with the local 
+rights of this sector or that. That’s the reason I can move about under my own name with 
+reasonable security.” 
+
+For a moment, Davan buried his head in his hands and muttered, “This is 
+madness.” Then he looked up wearily and said to Dors, “Are you Master Seldon’s wife?” 
+
+Dors said calmly, “I am his friend and protector.” 
+
+“How well do you know him?” 
+
+“We have been together for some months.” 
+
+“No more?” 
+
+“No more.” 
+
+“Would it be your opinion he is speaking the truth?” 
+
+“I know he is, but what reason would you have to crust me if you do not trust 
+him? If Hari is, for some reason, lying to you, might I not be lying to you equally in order 
+to support him?” 
+
+Davan looked from one to the other helplessly. Then he said, “Would you, in any 
+case, help us?” 
+
+“Who are ‘us’ and in what way do you need help?” 
+
+Davan said, “You see the situation here in Dahl. We are oppressed. You must 
+know that and, from your treatment of Yugo Amaryl, I cannot believe you lack sympathy 
+for us.” 
+
+
+“We are fully sympathetic.” 
+
+
+
+“And you must know the source of the oppression.” 
+
+“You are going to cell me that it’s the Imperial government, I suppose, and I dare 
+say it plays its part. On the other hand, I notice that there is a middle class in Dahl that 
+despises the heatsinkers and a criminal class that terrorizes the rest of the sector.” 
+
+Davan’s lips tightened, but he remained unmoved. “Quite true. Quite true. But the 
+Empire encourages it as a matter of principle. Dahl has the potential for making serious 
+trouble. If the heatsinkers should go on strike, Trantor would experience a severe energy 
+shortage almost at once . . . with all that that implies. However, 
+
+Dahl’s own upper classes will spend money to hire the hoodlums of Billibotton — 
+and of other places-to fight the heatsinkers and break the strike. It has happened before. 
+The Empire allows some Dahlites to prosper-comparatively-in order to convert them into 
+Imperialist lackeys, while it refuses to enforce the arms-control laws effectively enough 
+to weaken the criminal element 
+
+“The Imperial government does this everywhere— and not in Dahl alone. They 
+can’t exert force to impose their will, as in the old days when they ruled with brutal 
+directness. Nowadays, Trantor has grown so complex and so easily disturbed that the 
+Imperial forces must keep their hands off—” 
+
+“A form of degeneration, “ said Seldon, remembering Hummin’s complaints. 
+
+“What?” said Davan. 
+
+“Nothing, “ said Seldon. “Go on.” 
+
+“The Imperial forces must keep their hands off, but they find that they can do 
+much even so. Each sector is encouraged to be suspicious of its neighbours. Within each 
+sector, economic and social classes are encouraged to wage a kind of war with each 
+other. The result is that all over Trantor it is impossible for the people to take united 
+action. Everywhere, the people would rather fight each other than make a common stand 
+against the central tyranny and the Empire rules without having to exert force.” 
+
+“And what, “ said Dors, “do you think can be done about it?” 
+
+“I’ve been trying for years to build a feeling of solidarity among the peoples of 
+Trantor.” 
+
+“I can only suppose, “ said Seldon dryly, “that you are finding this an impossibly 
+difficult and largely thankless task.” 
+
+“You suppose correctly, “ said Davan, “but the party is growing stronger. Many 
+of our knifers are coming to the realization that knives are best when they are not used on 
+each other. Those who attacked you in the corridors of Billibotton are examples of the 
+unconverted. However, those who support you now, who are ready to defend you against 
+the agent you thought was a newsman, are my people. I live here among them. It is not an 
+attractive way of life, but I am safe here. We have adherents in neighboring sectors and 
+we spread daily.” 
+
+“But where do we come in?” asked Dors. 
+
+“For one thing, “ said Davan, “both of you are Outworlders, scholars. We need 
+people like you among our leaders. Our greatest strength is drawn from the poor and the 
+uneducated because they suffer the most, but they can lead the least. A person like one of 
+you two is worth a hundred of them.” 
+
+“That’s an odd estimate from someone who wishes to rescue the oppressed, “ said 
+
+Seldon. 
+
+“I don’t mean as people, “ said Davan hastily. “I mean as far as leadership is 
+
+
+
+concerned. The party must have among its leaders men and women of intellectual 
+power.” 
+
+“People like us, you mean, are needed to give your party a veneer of 
+respectability.” 
+
+Davan said, “You can always put something noble in a sneering fashion if you try. 
+But you, Master Seldon, are more than respectable, more than intellectual. Even if you 
+won’t admit to being able to penetrate the mists of the future — ” 
+
+“Please, Davan, “ said Seldon, “don’t be poetic and don’t use the conditional. It’s 
+not a matter of admitting. I can’t foresee the future. Those are not mists that block the 
+view but chrome steel barriers.” 
+
+“Let me finish. Even if you can’t actually predict with-what do you call it?- 
+psychohistorical accuracy, you’ve studied history and you may have a certain intuitive 
+feeling for consequences. Now, isn’t that so?” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “I may have a certain intuitive understanding for 
+mathematical likelihood, but how far I can translate that into anything of historical 
+significance is quite uncertain. Actually, I have not studied history. I wish I had. I feel the 
+loss keenly.” 
+
+Dors said evenly, “I am the historian, Davan, and I can say a few things if you 
+
+wish.” 
+
+“Please do, “ said Davan, making it half a courtesy, half a challenge. 
+
+“For one thing, there have been many revolutions in Galactic history that have 
+overthrown tyrannies, sometimes on individual planets, sometimes in groups of them, 
+occasionally in the Empire itself or in the pre-imperial regional governments. Often, this 
+has only meant a change in tyranny. In other words, one ruling class is replaced by 
+another sometimes by one that is more efficient and therefore still more capable of 
+maintaining itself-while the poor and downtrodden remain poor and downtrodden or 
+become even worse off.” 
+
+Davan, listening intently, said, “I’m aware of that. We all are. Perhaps we can 
+learn from the past and know better what to avoid. Besides, the tyranny that now exists is 
+actual. That which may exist in the future is merely potential. If we are always to draw 
+back from change with the thought that the change may be for the worse, then there is no 
+hope at all of ever escaping injustice.” 
+
+Dors said, “A second point you must remember is that even if you have right on 
+your side, even if justice thunders condemnation, it is usually the tyranny in existence 
+that has the balance of force on its side. There is nothing your knife handlers can do in 
+the way of rioting and demonstrating that will have any permanent effect as long as, in 
+the extremity, there is an army equipped with kinetic, chemical, and neurological 
+weapons that is willing to use them against your people. You can get all the downtrodden 
+and even all the respectables on your side, but you must somehow win over the security 
+forces and the Imperial army or at least seriously weaken their loyalty to the rulers.” 
+
+Davan said, “Trantor is a multigovernmental world. Each sector has its own rulers 
+and some of them are themselves anti-imperial. If we can have a strong sector on our 
+side, that would change the situation, would it not? We would then not be merely 
+ragamuffins fighting with knives and stones.” 
+
+“Does that mean you do have a strong sector on your side or merely that it is your 
+ambition to have one?” 
+
+
+
+Davan was silent. 
+
+Dors said, “I shall assume that you are thinking of the Mayor of Wye. If the 
+Mayor is in the mood to make use of popular discontent as a way of improving the 
+chance of toppling the Emperor, doesn’t it strike you that the end the Mayor would have 
+in view would be that of succeeding to the Imperial throne? Why should the Mayor risk 
+his present not-inconsiderable position for anything less? Merely for the blessings of 
+justice and the decent treatment of people, concerning whom he can have little interest?” 
+
+“You mean, “ said Davan, “that any powerful leader who is willing to help us 
+may then betray us.” 
+
+“It is a situation that is all too common in Galactic history.” 
+
+“If we are ready for that, might we not betray him?” 
+
+“You mean, make use of him and then, at some crucial moment, subvert the 
+leader of his forces— or a leader, at any race— and have him assassinated?” 
+
+“Not perhaps exactly like that, but some way of getting rid of him might exist if 
+that should prove necessary.” 
+
+“Then we have a revolutionary movement in which the principal players must be 
+ready to betray each other, with each simply waiting for the opportunity. It sounds like a 
+recipe for chaos.” 
+
+“You will not help us, then?” said Davan. 
+
+Seldon, who had been listening to the exchange between Davan and Dors with a 
+puzzled frown on his face, said, “We can’t put it that simply. We would like to help you. 
+We are on your side. It seems to me that no sane man wants to uphold an Imperial system 
+that maintains itself by fostering mutual hatred and suspicions. Even when it seems to 
+work, it can only be described as metastable; that is, as too apt to fall into instability in 
+one direction or another. But the question is: How can we help? If I had psychohistory, if 
+I could tell what is most likely to happen, or if I could tell what action of a number of 
+alternative possibilities is most likely to bring on an apparently happy consequence, then 
+I would put my abilities at your disposal, —but I don’t have is I can help you best by 
+trying to develop psychohistory.” 
+
+“And how long will that take?” 
+
+Seldon shrugged. “I cannot say.” 
+
+“How can you ask us to wait indefinitely?” 
+
+“What alternative do I have, since I am useless to you as I am? But I will say this: 
+I have until very recently been quite convinced that the development of psychohistory 
+was absolutely impossible. Now I am not so certain of that.” 
+
+“You mean you have a solution in mind?” 
+
+“No, merely an intuitive feeling that a solution might be possible. I have not been 
+able to pin down what has occurred to make me have that feeling. It may be an illusion, 
+but I am trying. Let me continue to try. -Perhaps the will meet again.” 
+
+“Or perhaps, “ said Davan, “if you return to where you are now staying, you will 
+eventually find yourself in an Imperial trap. You may think that the Empire will leave 
+you alone white you struggle with psychohistory, but I am certain the Emperor and his 
+toady Demerzel are in no mood to wait forever, any more than I am.” 
+
+“It will do them no good to hasten, “ said Seldon calmly, “since I am not on their 
+side, as I am on yours. -Come, Dors.” 
+
+They turned and left Davan, sitting alone in his squalid room, and found Raych 
+
+
+
+waiting for them outside. 
+
+
+76 . 
+
+Raych was eating, licking his fingers, and crumpling the bag in which the food- 
+whatever it was-had been. A strong smell of onions pervaded the air-different somehow, 
+yeast-based perhaps. 
+
+Dors, recreating a little from the odor, said, “Where did you get the food from, 
+Raych?” 
+
+“Davan’s guys. They brought it to me. Davan’s okay.” 
+
+“Then we don’t have to buy you dinner, do we?” said Seldon, conscious of his 
+own empty stomach. 
+
+“Ya owe me somethin’" said Raych, looking greedily in Dors’s direction. “How 
+about the lady’s knife? One of 'em.” 
+
+“No knife, “ said Dors. “You get us back safely and I’ll give you five credits.” 
+
+“Can’t get no knife for five credits, “ grumbled Raych. 
+
+“You’re not getting anything but five credits, “ said Dors. 
+
+“You’re a lousy dame, lady, “ said Raych. 
+
+“I’m a lousy dame with a quick knife, Raych, so get moving.” 
+
+“All right. Don’t get all perspired.” Raych waved his hand. “This way.” 
+
+It was back through the empty corridors, but this time Dors, looking this way and 
+that, stopped. “Hold on, Raych. We’re being followed.” 
+
+Raych looked exasperated. “Ya ain’t supposed to hear 'em.” 
+
+Seldon said, bending his head to one side, “I don’t hear anything.” 
+
+“I do, “ said Dors. “Now, Raych, I don’t want any fooling around. You tell me 
+right now what’s going on or I’ll rap your head so that you won’t see straight for a week. 
+I mean it.” 
+
+Raych held up one arm defensively. “You try it, you lousy dame. You try it. -It’s 
+Davan’s guys. They’re just taking care of us, in case any knifers come along.” 
+
+“Davan’s guys?” 
+
+“Yeah. They’re goin’ along the service corridors.” 
+
+Dors’s right hand shot out and seized Raych by the scruff of his upper garment. 
+She lifted and he dangled, shouting, “Hey, lady. Hey!” 
+
+Seldon said, “Dors! Don’t be hard on him.” 
+
+“I’ll be harder still if I think he’s lying. You’re my charge, Hari, not he.” 
+
+“I’m not lyin’, “ said Raych, struggling. “I’m not.” 
+
+“I’m sure he isn’t, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Well, we’ll see. Raych, tell them to come out where we can see them.” She let 
+him drop and dusted her hands. 
+
+“You’re some kind of nut, lady, “ said Raych aggrievedly. Then he raised his 
+voice. “Yay, Davan! Come out here, some of ya guys!” 
+
+There was a wait and then, from an unlit opening along the corridor, two dark- 
+mustached men came out, one with a scar running the length of his cheek. Each held the 
+sheath of a knife in his hand, blade withdrawn. 
+
+“How many more of you are there?” asked Dors harshly. 
+
+“A few, “ said one of the newcomers. “Orders. We’re guarding you. Davan wants 
+
+
+
+you safe.” 
+
+“Thank you. Try to be even quieter. Raych, keep on moving.” 
+
+Raych said sulkily, “Ya toughed me up when I was telling the truth.” 
+
+“You’re right, “ said Dors. “At least, I think you’re right . . . and I apologize.” 
+
+“I’m not sure I should accept, “ said Raych, trying to stand tall. “But awright, just 
+this once.” He moved on. 
+
+When they reached the walkway, the unseen corps of guards vanished. At least, 
+even Dors��s keen ears could hear them no more. By now, though, they were moving into 
+the respectable part of the sector. 
+
+Dors said thoughtfully, “I don’t think we have clothes that would fit you, Raych.” 
+
+Raych said, “Why do ya want clothes to fit me, Missus?” (Respectability seemed 
+to invade Raych once they were out of the corridors.) “I got clothes.” 
+
+“I thought you’d like to come into our place and take a bath.” 
+
+Raych said, “What for? I’ll wash one o’ these days. And I’ll put on my other 
+shirt.” He looked up at Dors shrewdly. “You’re sorry ya roughed me up. Right? Ya tryin’ 
+to make up?” 
+
+Dors smiled. “Yes. Sort of.” 
+
+Raych waved a hand in lordly fashion. “That’s all right. Ya didn’t hurt. Listen. 
+You’re strong for a lady. Ya lifted me up like I was nothin’.” 
+
+“I was annoyed, Raych. I have to be concerned about Master Seldom” 
+
+“Ya sort of his bodyguard?” Raych looked at Seldon inquiringly. “Ya got a lady 
+for a bodyguard?” 
+
+“I can’t help it, “ said Seldom smiling wryly. “She insists. And she certainly 
+knows her job.” 
+
+Dors said, “Think again, Raych. Are you sure you won’t have a bath? A nice 
+warm bath.” 
+
+Raych said, “I got no chance. Ya think that lady is gonna let me in the house 
+
+again?” 
+
+Dors looked up and saw Casilia Tisalver outside the front door of the apartment 
+complex, staring first at the Outworld woman and then at the slum-bred boy. It would 
+have been impossible to tell in which case her expression was angrier. 
+
+Raych said, “Well, so long, Mister and Missus. I don’t know if she’ll let either of 
+ya in the house.” He placed his hands in his pocket and swaggered off in a fine 
+affectation of carefree indifference. 
+
+Seldon said, “Good evening, Mistress Tisalver. It’s rather late, isn’t it?” 
+
+“It’s very late, “ she replied. “There was a near riot today outside this very 
+complex because of that newsman you pushed the street vermin at.” 
+
+“We didn’t push anyone on anyone, “ said Dors. 
+
+“I was there, “ said Mistress Tisalver intransigently. “I saw it.” 
+
+She stepped aside to let them enter, but delayed long enough to make her 
+reluctance quite plain. 
+
+“She acts as though that was the last straw, “ said Dors as she and Seldon made 
+their way up to their rooms. 
+
+“So? What can she do about it?” asked Seldon. 
+
+“I wonder, “ said Dors. 
+
+
+
+Officers 
+
+
+RAYCH- . . . According to Hari Seldon, the original meeting with Raych was 
+entirely accidental. He was simply a gutter urchin from whom Seldon had asked 
+directions. But his life, from that moment on, continued to be intertwined with that of the 
+great mathematician until . 
+
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+77 . 
+
+The next morning, dressed from the waist down, having washed and shaved, 
+Seldon knocked on the door that led to Dors’s adjoining room and said in a moderate 
+voice, “Open the door, Dors.” 
+
+She did. The short reddish-gold curls of her hair were still wet and she too was 
+dressed only from the waist down. 
+
+Seldon stepped back in embarrassed alarm. Dors looked down at the swell of her 
+breasts indifferently and wrapped a towel around her head. “What is it?” she asked. 
+
+Seldon said, looking off to his right, “I was going to ask you about Wye.” 
+
+Dors said very naturally, “About why in connection with what? And for goodness 
+sake, don’t make me talk to your ear. Surely, you’re not a virgin.” 
+
+Seldon said in a hurt tone, “I was merely trying to be polite. If you don’t mind, I 
+certainly don’t. And it’s not why about what. I’m asking about the Wye Sector.” 
+
+“Why do you want to know? Or, if you prefer: Why Wye?” 
+
+“Look, Dors, I’m serious. Every once in a while, the Wye Sector is mentioned-the 
+Mayor of Wye, actually. Hummin mentioned him, you did, Davan did. I don’t know 
+anything about either the sector or the Mayor.” 
+
+“I’m not a native Trantorian either, Hari. I know very little, but you’re welcome 
+to what I do know. Wye is near the south pole quite large, very populous—” 
+
+“Very populous at the south pole?” 
+
+“We’re not on Helicon, Hari. Or on Cinna either. This is Trantor. Everything is 
+underground and underground at the poles or underground at the equator is pretty much 
+the same. Of course, I imagine they keep their day-night arrangements rather extreme — 
+long days in their summer, long nights in their winter-almost as it would be on the 
+surface. The extremes are just affectation; they’re proud of being polar.” 
+
+“But Upperside they must be cold, indeed.” 
+
+“Oh yes. The Wye Upperside is snow and ice, but it doesn’t lie as thickly there as 
+you might think. If it did, it might crush the dome, but it doesn’t and that is the basic 
+reason for Wye’s power.” 
+
+She turned to her mirror, removed the towel from her head, and threw the dry-net 
+over her hair, which, in a matter of five seconds, gave it a pleasant sheen. She said, “You 
+have no idea how glad I am not to be wearing a skincap, “ as she put on the upper portion 
+of her clothing. 
+
+“What has the ice layer to do with Wye’s power?” 
+
+“Think about it. Forty billion people use a great deal of power and every calorie 
+of it eventually degenerates into heat and has to be gotten rid of. It’s piped to the poles, 
+
+
+
+particularly to the south pole, which is the more developed of the two, and is discharged 
+into space. It metes most of the ice in the process and I’m sure that accounts for Trantor’s 
+clouds and rains, no matter how much the meteorology hoggins insist that things are 
+more complicated than that.” 
+
+“Does Wye make use of the power before discharging it?” 
+
+“They may, for all I know. I haven’t the slightest idea, by the way, as to the 
+technology involved in discharging the heat, but I’m talking about political power. If 
+Dahl were to stop producing usable energy, that would certainly, inconvenience Trantor, 
+but there are other sectors that produce energy and can up their production and, of course, 
+there is stored energy in one form or another. Eventually, Dahl would have to be dealt 
+with, but there would be time. Wye, on the other hand-’ 
+
+“Yes?” 
+
+“Well, Wye gets rid of at least 90 percent of all the heat developed on Trantor and 
+there is no substitute. If Wye were to shut down its heat emission, the temperature would 
+start going up all over Trantor.” 
+
+“In Wye too.” 
+
+“Ate, but since Wye is at the south pole, it can arrange an influx of cold air. It 
+wouldn’t do much good, but Wye would last longer than the rest of Trantor. The point is, 
+then, that Wye is a very touchy problem for the Emperor and the Mayor of Wye is— or at 
+least can be-extremely powerful.” 
+
+“And what kind of a person is the present Mayor of Wye?” 
+
+“That I don’t know. What I’ve occasionally heard would make it seem that he is 
+very old and pretty much a recluse, but hard as a hypership hull and still cleverly 
+maneuvering for power.” 
+
+“Why, I wonder? If he’s that old, he couldn’t hold the power for long.” 
+
+“Who knows, Hari? A lifelong obsession, I suppose. Or else it’s the game ... the 
+maneuvering for power, without any real longing for the power itself. Probably if he had 
+the power and took over Demerzel’s place or even the Imperial throne itself, he would 
+feel disappointed because the game would be over. Of nurse he might, if he was still 
+alive, begin the subsequent game of keeping power, which might be just as difficult and 
+just as satisfying.” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “It strikes me that no one could possibly want to be 
+Emperor.” 
+
+“No sane person would, I free, but the ‘Imperial wish, ‘ as it is frequently called, 
+is like a disease that, when caught, drives out sanity. And the closer you get to high 
+office, the more likely you are to catch the disease. With each ensuing promotion—” 
+
+“The disease grows still more acute. Yes, I can see that. But it also seems to me 
+that Trantor is so huge a world, so interlocking in its needs and so conflicting in its 
+ambitions, that it makes up the major part of the inability of the Emperor to rule. Why 
+doesn’t he just leave Trantor and establish himself on some simpler world?” 
+
+Dors laughed. “You wouldn’t ask that if you knew your history. Trantor is the 
+Empire through thousands of years of custom. An Emperor who is not at the Imperial 
+Palace is not the Emperor. He is a place, even more than a person.” 
+
+Seldon sank into silence, his face rigid, and after a while Dors asked, What’s the 
+matter, Hari?” 
+
+“I’m thinking, “ he said in a muffled voice. “Ever since you told me that hand-on- 
+
+
+
+thigh story, I’ve had fugitive thoughts that-Now your remark about the Emperor being a 
+place rather than a person seems to have struck a chord.” 
+
+“What kind of chord?” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “I’m still thinking. I may be all wrong.” His glance at 
+Dors sharpened, his eyes coming into focus. “In any case, we ought to go down and have 
+breakfast. We’re late and I don’t think Mistress Tisalver is in a good enough humor to 
+have it brought in for us.” 
+
+“You optimist, “ said Dors. “My own feeling is that she’s not in a good enough 
+humor to want us to stay-breakfast or not. She wants us out of here.” 
+
+“That may be, but we’re paying her.” 
+
+“Yes, but I suspect she hates us enough by now to scorn our credits.” 
+
+“Perhaps her husband will feel a bit more affectionate concerning the rent.” 
+
+“If he has a single word to say, Hari, the only person who would be more 
+surprised than me to hear it would be Mistress Tisalver. -Very well, I’m ready.” 
+
+And they moved down the stairs to the Tisalver portion of the apartment to find 
+the lady in question waiting for them with less than breakfast— and with considerably 
+more too. 
+
+78 . 
+
+Casilia Tisalver stood ramrod straight with a tight smile on her round face and her 
+dark eyes glinting. Her husband was leaning moodily against the wall. In the center of the 
+room were two men who were standing stiffly upright, as though they had noticed the 
+cushions on the floor but scorned them. 
+
+Both had the dark crisp hair and the chick black mustache to be expected of 
+Dahlites. Both were thin and both were dressed in dark clothes so nearly alike that they 
+were surely uniforms. There was thin white piping up and over the shoulders and down 
+the sides of the tubular trouser legs. Each had, on the right side of his chest, a rather dim 
+Spaceship-and-Sun, the symbol of the Galactic Empire on every inhabited world of the 
+Galaxy, with, in this case, a dark “D” in the center of the sun. 
+
+Seldon realized immediately that these were two members of the Dahlite security 
+
+forces. 
+
+“What’s all this?” said Seldon sternly. 
+
+One of the men stepped forward. “I am Sector Officer Lanel Russ. This is my 
+partner, Gebore Astinwald.” 
+
+Both presented glittering identification holo-tabs. Seldon didn’t bother looking at 
+them. “What it is you want?” 
+
+Russ said calmly, “Are you Hari Seldon of Helicon?” 
+
+“I am.” 
+
+“And are you Dors Venabili of Cinna, Mistress?” 
+
+“I am, “ said Dors. 
+
+“I’m here to investigate a complaint that one Hari Seldon instigated a riot 
+yesterday.” 
+
+“I did no such thing, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Our information is, “ said Russ, looking at the screen of a small computer pad, 
+“that you accused a newsman of being an Imperial agent, thus instigating a riot against 
+
+
+
+him. 
+
+
+Dors said, “It was I who said he was an Imperial agent, Officer. I had reason to 
+think he was. It is surely no crime to express one’s opinion. The Empire has freedom of 
+speech.” 
+
+“That does not cover an opinion deliberately advanced in order to instigate a riot.” 
+
+“How can you say it was, Officer?” 
+
+At this point, Mistress Tisalver interposed in a shrill voice, “I can say it, Officer. 
+She saw there was a crowd present, a crowd of gutter people who were just looking for 
+trouble. She deliberately said he was an Imperial agent when she knew nothing of the sort 
+and she shouted it to the crowd to stir them up. It was plain that she knew what she was 
+doing.” 
+
+“Casilia, “ said her husband pleadingly, but she cast one look at him and he said 
+no more. 
+
+Russ turned to Mistress Tisalver. “Did you lodge the complaint, Mistress?” 
+
+“Yes. These two have been living here for a few days and they’ve done nothing 
+but make trouble. They’ve invited people of low reputation into my apartment, damaging 
+my standing with my neighbours.” 
+
+“Is it against the law, Officer, “ asked Seldon, “to invite clean, quiet citizens of 
+Dahl into one’s room? The two rooms upstairs are our rooms. We have rented them and 
+they are paid for. Is it a crime to speak to Dahlites in Dahl, Officer?” 
+
+“No, it is not, “ said Russ. “That is not part of the complaint. What gave you 
+reason, Mistress Venabili, to suppose the person you so accused was, in fact, an Imperial 
+agent?” 
+
+Doss said, “He had a small brown mustache, from which I concluded he was not a 
+Dahlite. I surmised he was an Imperial agent” 
+
+“You surmised? Your associate, Master Seldon, has no mustache at all. Do you 
+surmise he is an Imperial agent?” 
+
+“In any case, “ said Seldon hastily, “there was no riot. We asked the crowd to take 
+no action against the supposed newsman and I’m sure they didn’t.” 
+
+“You’re sure, Master Seldon?” said Russ. “Our information is that you left 
+immediately after making your accusation. How could you witness what happened after 
+you left?” 
+
+“I couldn’t, “ said Seldon, “but let me ask you-Is the man dead? Is the man hurt?” 
+
+“The man has been interviewed. He denies he is an Imperial agent and we have no 
+information that he is. He also claims he was handled roughly.” 
+
+“He may well be lying in both respects, “ said Seldon. “I would suggest a Psychic 
+
+Probe.” 
+
+“That cannot be done on the victim of a crime, “ said Russ. “The sector 
+government is very firm on that. It might do if you two, as the criminals in this case, each 
+underwent a Psychic Probe. Would you like us to do that?” 
+
+Seldon and Dors exchanged glances for a moment, then Seldon said, “No, of 
+course not.” 
+
+“Of course not, “ repeated Russ with just a tinge of sarcasm in his voice, “hut 
+you’re ready enough to suggest it for someone else.” 
+
+The other officer, Astinwald, who had so far not said a word, smiled at this. 
+
+Russ said, “We also have information that two days ago you engaged in a knife 
+
+
+
+fight in Billibotton and badly hurt a Dahlite citizen named”-he struck a button on his 
+computer pad and studied the new page on the screen- “Elgin Marron.” 
+
+Doss said, “Dot your information tell you how the fight started?” 
+
+“That is irrelevant at the moment, Mistress. Do you deny that the fight took 
+
+place?” 
+
+“Of course we don’t deny the fight took place, “ said Seldon hotly, “but we deny 
+that we in any way instigated that. We were attacked. Mistress Venabili was seized by 
+this Marron and it was clear he was attempting to rape her. What happened afterward was 
+pure self-defense. Or does Dahl condone rape?” 
+
+Russ said with very little intonation in his voice, “You say you were attacked? By 
+how many?” 
+
+“Ten men.” 
+
+“And you alone-with a woman-defended yourself against tea men?” 
+
+“Mistress Venabili and I defended ourselves. Yes.” 
+
+“How is it, then, that neither of you shows any damage whatever? Are either of 
+you cut or bruised where it doesn’t show right now?” 
+
+“No, Officer.” 
+
+“How is it, then, that in the fight of one-plus a woman-against ten, you are in no 
+way hurt, but that the complainant, Elgin Marron, has been hospitalized with wounds and 
+will require a skin transplant on his upper lip?” 
+
+“We fought well, “ said Seldon grimly. 
+
+“Unbelievably well. What would you say if I told you that three men have 
+testified that you and your friend attacked Marron, unprovoked?” 
+
+“I would say that it belies belief that we should. I’m sure that Marron has a record 
+as a brawler and knifeman. I tell you that there were ten there. Obviously, six refused to 
+swear to a lie. Do the other three explain why they did not come to the help of their friend 
+if they witnessed him under unprovoked attack and in danger of his life? It must be clear 
+to you that they are lying.” 
+
+“Do you suggest a Psychic Probe for them?” 
+
+“Yes. And before you ask, I still refuse to consider one for us.” 
+
+Russ said, “We have also received information that yesterday, after leaving the 
+scene of the riot, you consulted with one Davan, a known subversive who is wanted by 
+the security police. Is that true?” 
+
+“You’ll have to prove that without help from us, “ said Seldon. “We’re not 
+answering any further questions.” 
+
+Russ put away his pad. “I’m afraid I must ask you to come with us to 
+headquarters for further interrogation.” 
+
+“I don’t think that’s necessary, Officer, “ said Seldon. “We are Outworlders who 
+have done nothing criminal. We have tried to avoid a newsman who was annoying us 
+unduly, we tried to protect ourselves against rape and possible murder in a part of the 
+sector known for criminal behavior, and we’ve spoken to various Dahlites. We see 
+nothing there to warrant our further questioning. It would come under the heading of 
+harassment.” 
+
+“We make these decisions, “ said Russ. “Not you. Will you please come with us?” 
+
+“No, we will not, “ said Dors. 
+
+“Watch out!” cried out Mistress Tisalver. “She’s got two knives.” 
+
+
+
+Officer Russ sighed and said, “Thank you, Mistress, but I know she does.” He 
+turned to Dors. “Do you know it’s a serious crime to carry a knife without a permit in this 
+sector? Do you have a permit?” 
+
+“No, Officer, I don’t.” 
+
+“It was clearly with an illegal knife, then, that you assaulted Marron? Do you 
+realize that that greatly increases the seriousness of the crime?” 
+
+“It was no crime, Officer, “ said Dors. “Understand that. Marron had a knife as 
+well and no permit, I am certain.” 
+
+“We have no evidence to that effect and while Marron has knife wounds, neither 
+of you have any.” 
+
+“Of course he had a knife, Officer. If you don’t know that every man in 
+Billibotton and most men elsewhere in Dahl carry knives for which they probably don’t 
+have permits, then you’re the only man in Dahl who doesn’t know. There are shops here 
+wherever you turn that sell knives openly. Don’t you know that?” 
+
+Russ said, “It doesn’t matter what I know or don’t know in this respect. Nor does 
+it matter whether other people are breaking the law or how many of them do. All that 
+matters at this moment is that Mistress Venabili is breaking the anti-knife law. I must ask 
+you to give up those knives to me right now, Mistress, and the two of you must then 
+accompany me to headquarters.” 
+
+Dors said, “In that case, take my knives away from me.” 
+
+Russ sighed. “You must not think, Mistress, that knives are all the weapons there 
+are in Dahl or that I need engage you in a knife fight. Both my partner and I have blasters 
+that will destroy you in a moment, before you can drop your hands to your knife hilt- 
+however fast you are. We won’t use a blaster, of course, because we are not here to kill 
+you. However, each of us also has a neuronic whip, which we can use on you freely. I 
+hope you won’t ask for a demonstration. It won’t kill you, do you permanent harm of any 
+kind, or leave any marks— but the pain is excruciating. My partner is holding a neuronic 
+whip on you right now. And here is mine. -Now, let us have your knives, Mistress 
+Venabili.” 
+
+There was a moment’s pause and then Seldon said, “It’s no use, Dors. Give him 
+your knives.” 
+
+And at that moment, a frantic pounding sounded at the door and they all heard a 
+voice raised in high-pitched expostulation. 
+
+79 . 
+
+Raych had not entirely left the neighborhood after he had walked them back to 
+their apartment house. 
+
+He had eaten well while waiting for the interview with Davan to 6e done and later 
+had slept a bit after finding a bathroom that more or less worked. He really had no place 
+to go now that all that was done. He had a home of sorts and a mother who was not likely 
+to be perturbed if he stayed away for a while. She never was. 
+
+He did not know who his father was and wondered sometimes if he really had 
+one. He had been told he had to have one and the reasons for that had been explained to 
+him crudely enough. Sometimes he wondered if he ought to believe so peculiar a story, 
+but he did find the details titillating. 
+
+
+
+He thought of that in connection with the lady. She was an old lady, of course, but 
+she was pretty and she could fight like a man better than a man. It filled him with vague 
+notions. 
+
+And she had offered to let him take a bath. He could swim in the Billibotton pool 
+sometimes when he had some credits he didn’t need for anything else or when he could 
+sneak in. Those were the only times he got wet all over, but it was chilly and he had to 
+wait to get dry. 
+
+Taking a bath was different. There would be hoc water, soap, towels, and warm 
+air. He wasn’t sure what it would feel like, except that it would be nice if she was there. 
+
+He was walkway-wise enough to know of places where he could park himself in 
+an alley off a walkway that would 6e near a bathroom and still be near enough to where 
+she was, yet where he probably wouldn’t be found and made to run away. 
+
+He spent the night thinking strange thoughts. What if he did learn to read and 
+write? Could he do something with that? He wasn’t sure what, but maybe the could cell 
+him. He had vague ideas of being paid money to do things he didn’t know how to do 
+now, but he didn’t know what those things might be. He would have to be cold, but how 
+do you get told? 
+
+If he stayed with the man and the lady, they might help. But why should they 
+want him to stay with them? 
+
+He drowsed off, coming to later, not because the light was brightening, but 
+because his sharp ears caught the heightening and deepening of sounds from the walkway 
+as the activities of the day began. 
+
+He had learned to identify almost every variety of sound, because in the 
+underground maze of Billibotton, if you wanted to survive with even a minimum of 
+comfort, you had to be aware of things before you saw them. And there was something 
+about the sound of a ground-car motor that he now heard that signaled danger to him. It 
+had an official sound, a hostile sound 
+
+He shook himself awake and stole quietly toward the walkway. He scarcely 
+needed to see the Spaceship-and-Sun on the groundcar. Its lines were enough. He knew 
+they had to be coming for the man and the lady because they had seen Davan. He did not 
+pause to question his thoughts or to analyze them. He was off on a run, beating his way 
+through the gathering life of the day. 
+
+He was back in less than fifteen minutes. The ground-car was still there and there 
+were curious and cautious onlookers gazing at it from all sides and from a respectful 
+distance. There would soon be more. He pounded his way up the stairs, trying to 
+remember which door he should bang on. No time for the elevator. 
+
+He found the door-at least he thought he did — and he banged, shouting in a 
+squeak, “Lady! Lady!” 
+
+He was too excited to remember her name, but he remembered part of the man’s. 
+“Hari!” he shouted. “Let me in.” 
+
+The door opened and he rushed in-tried to rush in. The rough hand of an officer 
+seized his arm. “Hold it, kid. Where do you think you’re going?” 
+
+“Leggo! I ain’t done nothin’.” He looked about. “Hey, lady, what’re they Join’?” 
+
+“Arresting us, “ said Dors grimly. 
+
+“What for?” said Raych, panting and struggling. “Hey, leggo, you Sunbadger. 
+Don’t go with him, lady. You don’t have to go with him. “ 
+
+
+
+“You get out, “ said Russ, shaking the boy vehemently. 
+
+“No, I ain’t, You ain’t either, Sunbadger. My whole gang is coming. You ain’t 
+gettin’ out, less’n you let these guys go.” 
+
+“What whole gang?” said Russ, frowning. 
+
+“They’re right outside now. Prob’ly takin’ your ground-car apart. And they’ll take 
+yore apart.” 
+
+Russ turned toward his partner, “Call headquarters. Have them send out a couple 
+of trucks with Macros.” 
+
+“No!” shrieked Raych, breaking loose and rushing at Astinwald. “Don’t call!” 
+
+Russ levelled his neuronic whip and fired. 
+
+Raych shrieked, grasped at his right shoulder, and fell down, wriggling madly. 
+
+Russ had not yet turned back to Seldon, when the latter, seizing him by the wrist, 
+pushed the neuronic whip up in the air and then around and behind, while stamping on 
+his foot to keep him relatively motionless. Hari could feel the shoulder dislocate, even 
+while Russ emitted a hoarse, agonized yell. 
+
+Astinwald raised his blaster quickly, but Dors’s left arm was around his shoulder 
+and the knife in her right hand was at his throat. 
+
+“Don’t move!” she said. “Move a millimeter, any part of you, and I cut you 
+through your neck to the spine. -Drop the blaster. Drop it! And the neuronic whip.” 
+
+Seldon picked up Raych, still moaning, and held him tightly. He turned to 
+Tisalver and said, “There are people out there. Angry people. I’ll have them in here and 
+they’ll break up everything you’ve got. They’ll smash the walls. If you don’t want that to 
+happen, pick up those weapons and throw them into the next room. Take the weapons 
+from the security officer on the door and do the same. Quickly! Get your wife to help. 
+She’ll think twice next time before sending in complaints against innocent people. -Dors, 
+this one on the floor won’t do anything for a while. Put the other one out of action, but 
+don’t kill him.” 
+
+“Right, “ said Dors. Reversing her knife, she struck him hard on the skull with the 
+haft. He went to his knees. 
+
+She made a face. “I hate doing that.” 
+
+“They fired at Raych, “ said Seldon, trying to mask his own sick feeling at what 
+had happened. 
+
+They left the apartment hurriedly and, once out on the walkway, found it choked 
+with people, almost all men, who raised a shout when they saw them emerge. They 
+pushed in close and the smell of poorly washed humanity was overpowering. 
+
+Someone shouted, “Where are the Sunbadgers?” 
+
+“Inside, “ called out Dors piercingly. “Leave them alone. They’ll be helpless for a 
+while, but they’ll get reinforcements, so get out of here fast” 
+
+“What about you?” came from a dozen throats. 
+
+“We’re getting out too. We won’t be back.” 
+
+“I’ll take care of them, “ shrilled Raych, struggling out of Seldon’s arms and 
+standing on his feet. He was rubbing his right shoulder madly. “I can walk. Lemme past.” 
+
+The crowd opened for him and he said, “Mister, lady, come with me. Fast!” 
+
+They were accompanied down the walkway by several dozen men and then Raych 
+suddenly gestured at an opening and muttered, “In here, folks. I’ll rake ya to a place no 
+one will ever find ya. Even Davan prob’ly don’t know it. Only thing is, we got to go 
+
+
+
+through the sewer levels. No one will see us there, but it’s sort of stinky . . . know what I 
+mean?” 
+
+“I imagine we’ll survive, “ muttered Seldon. 
+
+And down they went along a narrow spiralling ramp and up rose the mephitic 
+odors to greet them. 
+
+80 . 
+
+Raych found them a hiding place. It had meant climbing up the metal rungs of a 
+ladder and it had led them to a large loft like room, the use of which Seldon could not 
+imagine. It was filled with equipment, bulky and silent, the function of which also 
+remained a mystery. The room was reasonably clean and free of dust and a steady draft of 
+air wafted through that prevented the dust from settling and-more important seemed to 
+lessen the odor. 
+
+Raych seemed pleased. “Ain’t this nice?” he demanded. He still rubbed his 
+shoulder now and then and winced when he rubbed too hard. 
+
+“It could be worse, “ said Seldon. “Do you know what this place is used for, 
+Raych?” 
+
+Raych shrugged or began to do so and winced. “I dunno, “ he said. Then he added 
+with a touch of swagger, “Who cares?” 
+
+Dors, who had sat down on the floor after brushing it with her hand and then 
+looking suspiciously at her palm, said, “If you want a guess, I think this is part of a 
+complex that is involved in the detoxification and recycling of wastes. The stuff must 
+surely end up as fertilizer.” 
+
+“Then, “ said Seldon gloomily, “those who run the complex will be down here 
+periodically and may come at any moment, for all we know.” 
+
+“I been here before, “ said Raych. “I never saw no one here.” 
+
+“I suppose Trantor is heavily automated wherever possible and if anything calls 
+for automation it would be this treatment of wastes, “ said Dors. “We may be safe ... for 
+a while.” 
+
+“Not for long. We’ll get hungry and thirsty, Dors.” 
+
+“I can get food and water for us, “ said Raych. “Ya got to know how to make out 
+if you’re an alley kid.” 
+
+“Thank you, Raych, “ said Seldon absently, “but right now I’m not hungry.” He 
+sniffed. “I may never be hungry again.” 
+
+“You will be, “ said Dors, “and even if you lose your appetite for a while, you’ll 
+get thirsty. At least elimination is no problem. We’re practically living over what is 
+clearly an open sewer.” 
+
+There was silence for a while. The light was dim and Seldon wondered why the 
+Trantorians didn’t keep it dark altogether. But then it occurred to him that he had never 
+encountered true darkness in any public area. It was probably a habit in an energy-rich 
+society. Strange that a world of forty billion should be energy-rich, but with the internal 
+heat of the planet to draw upon, to say nothing of solar energy and nuclear fusion plants 
+in space, it was. In fact, come to think of it, there was no energy-poor planet in the 
+Empire. Was there a time when technology had been so primitive that energy poverty 
+was possible? 
+
+
+
+He leaned against a system of pipes through which-for all he knew sewage ran. 
+
+He drew away from the pipes as the thought occurred to him and he sat down next to 
+Dors. 
+
+He said, “Is there any way we can get in touch with Chetter Hummin?” 
+
+Dors said, “As a matter of fact, I did send a message, though I hated to.” 
+
+“You hated to?” 
+
+“My orders are to protect you. Each time I have to get in touch with him, it means 
+I’ve failed.” 
+
+Seldon regarded her out of narrowed eyes. “Do you have to be so compulsive, 
+Dons? You can’t protect me against the security officers of an entire sector.” 
+
+“I suppose not. We can disable a few—” 
+
+“I know. We did. But they’ll send out reinforcements . . . armored ground-cars . . . 
+neuronic cannon . . . sleeping mist. I’m not sure what they have, but they’re going to 
+throw in their entire armory. I’m sure of it.” 
+
+“You’re probably right, “ said Dons, her mouth tightening. 
+
+“They won’t find ya, lady, “ said Raych suddenly. His sharp eyes had moved 
+from one to the other as they talked. “They never find Davan.” 
+
+Dors smiled without joy and ruffled the boy’s hair, then looked at the palm of her 
+hand with a little dismay. She said, “I’m not sure if you ought to stay with us, Raych. I 
+don’t want them finding you. “ 
+
+“They won’t find me and if I leave ya, who’ll get ya food and water and who’ll 
+find ya new hidin’ places, so the Sunbadgers’ll never know where to look?” 
+
+“No, Raych, they’ll find us. They don’t really look too hard for Davan. He annoys 
+them, but I suspect they don’t take him seriously. Do you know what I mean?” 
+
+“You mean he’s just a pain in the . . . the neck and they figure he ain’t worth 
+chasing all over the lot.” 
+
+“Yes, that’s what I mean. But you see, we hurt two of the officers very badly and 
+they’re not going to let us get away with that. If it takes their whole force-if they have to 
+sweep through every hidden or unused corridor in the sector-they’ll get us.” 
+
+Raych said, “That makes me feel like . . . like natin’n’. If I didn’t run in there and 
+get zapped, ya wouldn’t have taken out them officers and ya wouldn’t be in such 
+trouble.” 
+
+“No, sooner or later, we’d have-uh-taken them out. Who knows? We may have to 
+take out a few more.” 
+
+“Well, ya did it beautiful, “ said Raych. “If I hadn’t been aching all over, I 
+could’ve watched more and enjoyed it.” 
+
+Seldon said, “It wouldn’t do us any good to try to fight the entire security system. 
+The question is: What will they do to us once they have us? A prison sentence, surely.” 
+
+“Oh no. If necessary, we’ll have to appeal to the Emperor, “ put in Dors. 
+
+“The Emperor?” said Raych, wide-eyed. “You know the Emperor?” 
+
+Seldon waved at the boy. “Any Galactic citizen can appeal to the Emperor. -That 
+strikes me as the wrong thing to do, Dors. Ever since Hummin and I left the Imperial 
+Sector, we’ve been evading the Emperor.” 
+
+“Not to the extent of being thrown into a Dahlite prison. The Imperial appeal will 
+serve as a delay-in any case, a diversion— and perhaps in the course of that delay, we can 
+think of something else.” 
+
+
+
+“There’s Hummin.” 
+
+“Yes, there is, “ said Dors uneasily, “but we can’t consider him the doit-all. For 
+one thing, even if my message reached him and even if he was able to rush to Dahl, how 
+would he find us here? And, even if he did, what could he do against the entire Dahlite 
+security force?” 
+
+“In that case, “ said Seldon. “We’re going to have to think of something we can 
+do before they find us.” 
+
+Raych said, “If ya follow me, I can keep ya ahead of them. I know every place 
+there is around here.” 
+
+“You can keep us ahead of one person, but there’ll be a great many, moving down 
+any number of corridors. We’ll escape one group and bump into another.” 
+
+They sat in uncomfortable silence for a good while, each confronting what 
+seemed to 6e a hopeless situation. Then Dors Venabili stirred and said in a tense, low 
+whisper, “They’re here. I hear them.” 
+
+For a while, they strained, listening, then Raych sprang to his feet and hissed, 
+“They cornin’ that way. We gotta go this way.” 
+
+Seldon, confused, heard nothing at all, but would have been content to trust the 
+others’ superior hearing, but even as Raych began moving hastily and quiedy away from 
+the direction of the approaching tread, a voice rang out echoing against the sewer walls. 
+“Don’t move. Don’t move.” 
+
+And Raych said, “That’s Davan. How’d he know we were here?” 
+
+“Davan?” said Seldon. “Are you sure?” 
+
+“Sure I’m sure. He’ll help.” 
+
+81 . 
+
+Davan asked, “What happened?” 
+
+Seldon felt minimally relieved. Surely, the addition of Davan could scarcely count 
+against the full force of the Dahl Sector, but, then again, he commanded a number of 
+people who might create enough confusion 
+
+He said, “You should know, Davan. I suspect that many of the crowd who were at 
+Tisalver’s place this morning were your people.” 
+
+“Yes, a number were. The story is that you were being arrested and that you 
+manhandled a squadron of Sunbadgers. But why were you being arrested?” 
+
+“Two, “ said Seldon, lifting two fingers. “Two Sunbadgers. And that’s bad 
+enough. Part of the reason we were being arrested was that we had gone to see you.” 
+
+“That’s not enough. The Sunbadgers don’t bother with me much as a general 
+thing.” He added bitterly, “They underestimate me.” 
+
+“Maybe, “ said Seldon, “out the woman from whom we rent our rooms reported 
+us for having started a riot . . . over the newsman we ran into on our way to you. You 
+know about that. With your people on the scene yesterday and again this morning and 
+with two officers badly hurt, they may well decide to clean out these corridors— and that 
+means you will suffer. I really am sorry. I had no intention or expectation of being the 
+cause of any of this.” 
+
+But Davan shook his head. “No, you don’t know the Sunbadgers. That’s not 
+enough either. They don’t want to clean us up. The sector would have to do something 
+
+
+
+about us if they did. They’re only too happy to let us rot in Billibotton and the other 
+slums. No, they’re after you. What have you done?” 
+
+Dors said impatiently, “We’ve done nothing and, in any case, what does it matter? 
+If they’re not after you and they are after us, they’re going to come down here to flush us 
+out. If you get in the way, you’ll be in deep trouble.” 
+
+“No, not me. I have friends-powerful friends, “ said Davan. “I told you that last 
+night. And they can help you as well as me. When you refused to help us openly, I got in 
+touch with them. They know who you are, Dr. Seldon. You’re a famous man. They’re in 
+a position to talk to the Mayor of Dahl and see to it that you are left alone, whatever you 
+have done. But you’ll have to be taken a way out of Dahl.” 
+
+Seldon smiled. Relief flooded over him. He said, “You know someone powerful, 
+do you, Davan? Someone who responds at once, who has the ability to talk the Dahl 
+government out of taking drastic steps, and who can take us away? Good. I’m not 
+surprised.” He turned to Dors, smiling. “It’s Mycogen all over again. How does Hummin 
+do it?” 
+
+But Dors shook her head. “Too quick. -I don’t understand.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I believe he can do anything.” 
+
+“I know him better than you do— and longer— and I don’t believe that.” 
+
+Seldon smiled, “Don’t underestimate him.” And then, as though anxious not to 
+linger longer on that subject, he turned to Davan. “But how did you find us? Raych said 
+you knew nothing about this place.” 
+
+“He don’t, “ shrilled Raych indignandy. “This place is all mine. I found it.” 
+
+“I’ve never been here before, “ said Davan, looking about. “It’s an interesting 
+place. Raych is a corridor creature, perfectly at home in this maze.” 
+
+“Yes, Davan, we gathered as much ourselves. But how did you find it?” 
+
+“A heat-seeker. I have a device that detects infra-red radiation, the particular 
+thermal pattern that is given off at thirty-seven degrees Celsius. It will react to the 
+presence of human beings and not to other heat sources. It reacted to you three.” 
+
+Dons was frowning. “What good is that on Trantor, where there are human beings 
+everywhere? They have them on other worlds, but—” 
+
+Davan said, “But not on Trantor. I know. Except that they are useful in the slums, 
+in the forgotten, decaying corridors and alleyways.” 
+
+“And where did you get it?” asked Seldon. 
+
+Davan said, “It’s enough that I have it. —but we’ve got to get you away, Master 
+Seldon. Too many people want you and I want my powerful friend to have you.” 
+
+“Where is he, this powerful friend of yours?” 
+
+“He’s approaching. At least a new thirty-seven-degree source is registering and I 
+don’t see that it can be anyone else.” 
+
+Through the door strode a newcomer, but Seldon’ s glad exclamation died on his 
+lips. It was not Chetter Hummin. 
+
+Wye 
+
+
+WYE- ... A sector of the world-city of Trantor ... In the latter centuries of the 
+Galactic Empire, Wye was the strongest and stablest portion of the world-city. Its rulers 
+had long aspired to the Imperial throne, justifying that by their descent from early 
+
+
+
+Emperors. Under Mannix IV, Wye was militarized and (Imperial authorities later 
+claimed) was planning a planet-wide coup . 
+
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+82 . 
+
+The man who entered was tall and muscular. He had a long blond mustache that 
+curled up at the tips and a fringe of hair that went down the sides of his face and under his 
+chin, leaving the point of his chin and his lower lip smoothly bare and seeming a little 
+moist. His head was so closely cropped and his hair was so fight that, for one unpleasant 
+moment, Seldon was reminded of Mycogen. 
+
+The newcomer wore what was unmistakably a uniform. It was red and white and 
+about his waist was a wide belt decorated with silver studs. 
+
+His voice, when he spoke, was a rolling bass and its accent was not like any that 
+Seldon had heard before. Most unfamiliar accents sounded uncouth in Seldon’ s 
+experience, but this one seemed almost musical, perhaps because of the richness of the 
+low tones. 
+
+“I am Sergeant Emmer Thalus, “ he rumbled in a slow succession of syllables. “I 
+have come seeking Dr. Hari Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I am he.” In an aside to Dors, he muttered, “if Hummin couldn’t 
+come himself, he certainly sent a magnificent side of beef to represent him.” 
+
+The sergeant favored Seldon with a stolid and slightly prolonged look. Then he 
+said, “Yes. You have been described to me. Please come with me, Dr. Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Lead the way.” 
+
+The sergeant stepped backward. Seldon and Dors Venabili stepped forward. 
+
+The sergeant stopped and raised a large hand, palm toward Dors. “I have been 
+instructed to take Dr. Hari Seldon with me. I have not been instructed to take anyone 
+else.” 
+
+For a moment, Seldon looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then his look of 
+surprise gave way to anger. “It’s quite impossible that you have been told that, Sergeant. 
+Dr. Dors Venabili is my associate and my companion. She must come with me.” 
+
+“That is nor in accordance with my instructions, Doctor.” 
+
+“I don’t care about your instructions in any way, Sergeant Thalus. I do not budge 
+without her.” 
+
+“What’s more, “ said Dors with clear irritation, “my instructions are to protect Dr. 
+Seldon at all times. I cannot do that unless I am with him. Therefore, where he goes, I 
+go.” 
+
+The sergeant looked puzzled. “My instructions are strict that I see to it that no 
+harm comes to you, Dr. Seldon. If you will not come voluntarily, I must carry you to my 
+vehicle. I will try to do so gently.” 
+
+He extended his two arms as though to seize Seldon by the waist and carry him 
+off bodily. 
+
+Seldon skittered backward and out of reach. As he did so, the side of his fight 
+palm came down on the sergeant’s right upper arm where the muscles were thinnest, so 
+that he struck the bone. 
+
+The sergeant drew a sudden deep breath and seemed to shake himself a bit, but 
+
+
+
+turned, face expressionless, and advanced again. Davan, watching, remained where he 
+was, motionless, but Raych moved behind the sergeant 
+
+Seldon repeated his palm stroke a second time, then a third, but now Sergeant 
+Thalus, anticipating the blow, lowered his shoulder to catch it on hard muscle. 
+
+Dors had drawn her knives. 
+
+“Sergeant, “ she said forcefully. “Turn in this direction, I want you to understand I 
+may be forced to hurt you severely if you persist in attempting to carry Dr. Seldon off 
+against his will.” 
+
+The sergeant paused, seemed to take in the slowly waving knives solemnly, then 
+said, “It is not in my instructions to refrain from harming anyone but Dr. Seldon.” 
+
+His right hand moved with surprising speed toward the neuronic whip in the 
+holster at his hip. Dors moved as quickly forward, knives flashing. 
+
+Neither completed the movement. 
+
+Dashing forward, Raych had pushed at the sergeant’s back with his left hand and 
+withdrew the sergeant’s weapon from its holster with his right He moved away quickly, 
+holding the neuronic whip in both hands now and shouting, “Hands up, Sergeant, or 
+you’re gonna get it!” 
+
+The sergeant whirled and a nervous look crossed his reddening face. It was the 
+only moment that its stolidity had weakened. “Put that down, sonny, “ he growled. “You 
+don’t know how it works.” 
+
+Raych howled, “I know about the safety. It’s off and this thing can fire. And it 
+will if you try to rush me.” 
+
+The sergeant froze. He clearly knew how dangerous it was to have an excited 
+twelve-year-old handling a powerful weapon. 
+
+Nor did Seldon feel much better. He said, “Careful, Raych. Don’t shoot. Keep 
+your finger off the contact.” 
+
+“I ain’t gonna let him rush me.” 
+
+“He won’t. -Sergeant, please don’t move. Let’s get something straight. You were 
+told to take me away from here. Is that right?” 
+
+“That’s right, “ said the sergeant, eyes somewhat protruding and firmly fixed on 
+Raych (whose eyes were as firmly fixed on the sergeant). 
+
+“But you were not cold to take anyone else. Is that right?” 
+
+“No, I was not, Doctor, “ said the sergeant firmly. Not even the threat of a 
+neuronic whip was going to make him weasel. One could see that. 
+
+“Very well, but listen to me, Sergeant. Were you told not to take anyone else?” 
+
+“I just said- 
+
+“No no. Listen, Sergeant. There’s a difference. Were your instructions simply 
+Take Dr. Seldon!’? Was that the entire order, with no mention of anyone else, or were 
+the orders more specific? Were your orders as follows: Take Dr. Seldon and don’t take 
+anyone else’?” 
+
+The sergeant turned that over in his head, then he said, “I was told to take you, Dr. 
+Seldon.” 
+
+“Then there was no mention of anyone else, one way or the other, was there?” 
+
+Pause. “No.” 
+
+“You were not told to take Dr. Venabili, but you were not told not to take Dr. 
+Venabili either. Is that right?” 
+
+
+
+Pause. “Yes.” 
+
+“So you can either take her or not take her, whichever you please?” 
+
+Long pause. “I suppose so.” 
+
+“Now then, here’s Raych, the young fellow who’s got a neuronic whip pointing at 
+you your neuronic whip, remember— and he is anxious to use it.” 
+
+“Yay!” shouted Raych. 
+
+“Not yet, Raych, “ said Seldon. “And here is Dr. Venabili with two knives that 
+she can use very expertly and there’s myself, who can, if I get the chance, break your 
+Adam’s apple with one hand so that you’ll never speak above a whisper again. Now then, 
+do you want to take Dr. Venabili or don’t you want to? Your orders allow you to do 
+either.” 
+
+And finally the sergeant said in a beaten voice, “I will take the woman.” 
+
+“And the boy, Raych.” 
+
+“And the boy.” 
+
+“Good. Have I your word of honor-your word of honor as a soldier that you will 
+do as you have just said . . . honestly?” 
+
+“You have my word of honor as a soldier, “ said the sergeant. 
+
+“Good. Raych, give back the whip. -Now. -Don’t make me wait.” 
+
+Raych, his face twisted into an unhappy grimace, looked at Dors, who hesitated 
+and then slowly nodded her head. Her face was as unhappy as Raych’ s. 
+
+Raych held out the neuronic whip to the sergeant and said, “They’re makin’ me, 
+ya big—” His last words were unintelligible. 
+
+Seldon said, “Put away your knives, Dors.” 
+
+Dors shook her head, but put them away. 
+
+“Now, Sergeant?” said Seldon. 
+
+The sergeant looked at the neuronic whip, then at Seldon. He said, “You are an 
+honorable man, Dr. Seldon, and my word of honor holds.” With a military snap, he 
+placed his neuronic whip in his holster. 
+
+Seldon turned to Davan and said, “Davan, please forget what you have seen here. 
+We three are going voluntarily with Sergeant Thalus. You tell Yugo Amaryl when you 
+see him that I will not forget him and that, once this is over and I am free to act, I will see 
+that he gets into a University. And if there’s anything reasonable I can ever do for your 
+cause, Davan, I will. -Now, Sergeant, let’s go.” 
+
+83 . 
+
+“Have you ever been in an air-jet before, Raych?” asked Hari Seldon. 
+
+Raych shook his head speechlessly. He was looking down at Upperside rushing 
+beneath them with a mixture of fright and awe. 
+
+It struck Seldon again how much Trantor was a world of Expressways and 
+tunnels. Even long trips were made underground 6y the general population. Air travel, 
+however common it might be on the Outworlds, was a luxury on Trantor and an air-jet 
+like this- 
+
+How had Hummin managed it? Seldon wondered. 
+
+He looked out the window at the rise and fall of the domes, at the general green in 
+this area of the planet, the occasional patches of what were little less than jungles, the 
+
+
+
+arms of the sea they occasionally passed over, with its leaden waters taking on a sudden 
+all too-brief sparkle when the sun peeped out momentarily from the heavy cloud layer. 
+
+An hour or so into the flight, Dors, who was viewing a new historical novel 
+without much in the way of apparent enjoyment, clicked it off and said, “I wish I knew 
+where we were going.” 
+
+“If you can’t tell, “ said Seldon, “then I certainly can’t. You’ve been on Trantor 
+longer than I have.” 
+
+“Yes, but only on the inside, “ said Dors. “Out here, with only Upperside below 
+me, I’m as lost as an unborn infant would be.” 
+
+“Oh well. -Presumably, Hummin knows what he’s doing.” 
+
+“I’m sure he does, “ replied Dors rather tartly, “but that may have nothing to do 
+with the present situation. Why do you continue to assume any of this represents his 
+initiative?” 
+
+Seldon’s eyebrows lifted. “Now that you ask, I don’t know. I just assumed it. 
+
+Why shouldn’t this be his?” 
+
+“Because whoever arranged it didn’t specify that I be taken along with you. I 
+simply don’t see Hummin forgetting my existence. And because he didn’t come himself, 
+as he did at Streeling and at Mycogen.” 
+
+“You can’t always expect him to, Dors. He might well be occupied. The 
+astonishing thing is nor that he didn’t come on this occasion but that he did come on the 
+previous ones.” 
+
+“Assuming he didn’t come himself, would he send a conspicuous and lavish 
+flying palace like this?” She gestured around her at the large luxurious jet. 
+
+“It might simply have been available. And he might have reasoned that no one 
+would expect something as noticeable as this to be carrying fugitives who were 
+desperately trying to avoid detection. The well-known double-double-cross.” 
+
+“Too well-known, in my opinion. And would he send an idiot like Sergeant 
+Thalus in his place?” 
+
+“The sergeant is no idiot. He’s simply been trained to complete obedience. With 
+proper instructions, he could be utterly reliable.” 
+
+“There you are, Hari. We come back to that. Why didn’t he get proper 
+instructions? It’s inconceivable to me that Chetter Hummin would tell him to carry you 
+out of Dahl and not say a word about me. Inconceivable.” 
+
+And to that Seldon had no answer and his spirits sank. 
+
+Another hour passed and Dors said, “It looks as if it’s getting colder outside. The 
+green of Upperside is turning brown and I believe the heaters have turned on.” 
+
+“What does that signify?” 
+
+“Dahl is in the tropic zone so obviously we’re going either north or south— and a 
+considerable distance too. If I had some notion in which direction the nightline was I 
+could tell which.” 
+
+Eventually, they passed over a section of shoreline where there was a rim of ice 
+hugging the domes where they were rimmed by the sea. 
+
+And then, quite unexpectedly, the air-jet angled downward. 
+
+Raych screamed, “We’re goin’ to hit! We’re goin’ to smash up!” 
+
+Seldon’s abdominal muscles tightened and he clutched the arms of his seat. 
+
+Dors seemed unaffected. She said, “The pilots up front don’t seem alarmed. We’ll 
+
+
+
+be tunneling.” 
+
+And, as she said so, the jet’s wings swept backward and under it and, like a bullet, 
+the air-jet encored a tunnel. Blackness swept back over them in an instant and a moment 
+later the lighting system in the tunnel turned on. The walls of the tunnel snaked past the 
+jet on either side. 
+
+“I don’t suppose I’ll ever be sure they know the tunnel isn’t already occupied, “ 
+muttered Seldon. 
+
+“I’m sure they had reassurance of a clear tunnel some dozens of kilometers 
+earlier, “ said Dors. “At any rate, I presume this is the last stage of the journey and soon 
+we’ll know where we are.” 
+
+She paused and then added, “And I further presume we won’t like the knowledge 
+when we have it.” 
+
+84 . 
+
+The air-jet sped out of the tunnel and onto a long runway with a roof so high that 
+it seemed closer to true daylight than anything Seldon had seen since he had left the 
+Imperial Sector. 
+
+They came to a halt in a shorter time than Seldon would have expected, but at the 
+price of an uncomfortable pressure forward. Raych, in particular, was crushed against the 
+seat before him and was finding it difficult to breath rill Dors’ s hand on his shoulder 
+pulled him back slightly. 
+
+Sergeant Thalus, impressive and erect, left the jet and moved to the rear, where he 
+opened the door of the passenger compartment and helped the three out, one by one. 
+
+Seldon was last. He half-turned as he passed the sergeant, saying, “It was a 
+pleasant trip, Sergeant.” 
+
+A slow smite spread over the sergeant’s large face and lifted his moustached 
+upper lip. He touched the visor of his cap in what was half a salute and said, “Thank you 
+again, Doctor.” 
+
+They were then ushered into the backseat of a ground-car of lavish design and the 
+sergeant himself pushed into the front seat and drove the vehicle with a surprisingly light 
+touch. 
+
+They passed through wide roadways, flanked by tall, well-designed buildings, all 
+glistening in broad daylight. As elsewhere on Trantor, they heard the distant drone of an 
+Expressway. The walkways were crowded with what were, for the most part, well- 
+dressed people. The surroundings were remarkably-almost excessively clean. 
+
+Seldon’ s sense of security sank further. Dors’ s misgivings concerning their 
+destination now seemed justified after all. He leaned coward her and said, “Do you think 
+we are back in the Imperial Sector?” 
+
+She said, “No, the buildings are more rococo in the Imperial Sector and there’s 
+less Imperial parkishness to this sector-if you know what I mean.” 
+
+“Then where are we, Dors? 
+
+“We’ll have to ask, I’m afraid, Hari.” 
+
+It was not a long trip and soon they rolled into a car-bay that flanked an imposing 
+four-story structure. A frieze of imaginary animals ran along the top, decorated with 
+strips of warm pink stone. It was an impressive facade with a rather pleasing design. 
+
+
+
+Seldon said, “That certainly looks rococo enough.” 
+
+Dors shrugged uncertainly. 
+
+Raych whistled and said in a failing attempt to sound unimpressed, “Hey, look at 
+that fancy place.” 
+
+Sergeant Thalus gestured to Seldom clearly indicating that he was to follow. 
+Seldon hung back and, also relying on the universal language of gesture, held out both 
+arms, clearly including Dors and Raych. 
+
+The sergeant hesitated in a slightly hangdog fashion at the impressive pink 
+doorway. His mustache almost seemed to droop. 
+
+Then he said gruffly, “All three of you, then. My word of honor holds. -Still, 
+others may not feel obligated by my own obligation, you know.” 
+
+Seldon nodded. “I hold you responsible for your own deeds only, Sergeant.” 
+
+The sergeant was clearly moved and, for a moment, his face lightened as though 
+he was considering the possibility of shaking Seldon’ s hand or expressing heartfelt his 
+approval in some other way. He decided against it, however, and stepped onto the bottom 
+step of the flight that led to the door. The stairs immediately began a stately upward 
+movement. 
+
+Seldon and Dors stepped after him at once and kept their balance without much 
+trouble. Raych, who was momentarily staggered in surprise, jumped onto the moving 
+stairs after a short run, shoved both hands into his pockets, and whistled carelessly. 
+
+The door opened and two women stepped out, one on either side in symmetrical 
+fashion. They were young and attractive. Their dresses, belted tightly about the waist and 
+reaching nearly to their ankles, fell in crisp pleats and rustled when they walked. Both 
+had brown hair that was coiled in thick plaits on either side of their heads. (Seldon found 
+it attractive, but wondered how long it took them each morning to arrange it just so. He 
+had not been aware of so elaborate a coiffure on the women they had passed in the 
+streets.) 
+
+The two women stared at the newcomers with obvious contempt. Seldon was not 
+surprised. After the day’s events, he and Dors looked almost as disreputable as Raych. 
+
+Yet the women managed to bow decorously and then made a half-turn and 
+gestured inward in perfect unison and with symmetry carefully maintained. (Did they 
+rehearse these things?) It was clear that the three were to enter. 
+
+They stepped through an elaborate room, cluttered with furniture and decorative 
+items whose use Seldon did not readily understand. The floor was light-colored, springy, 
+and glowed with luminescence. Seldon noted with some embarrassment that their 
+footwear left dusty marks upon it. 
+
+And then an inner door was flung open and yet another woman emerged. She was 
+distinctly older than the first two (who sank slowly as she came in, crossing their legs 
+symmetrically as they did so in a way that made Seldon marvel that they could keep their 
+balance; it undoubtedly took a deal of practice). 
+
+Seldon wondered if he too was expected to display some ritualized form of 
+respect, but since he hadn’t the faintest notion of what this might consist of, he merely 
+bowed his head slightly. Dors remained standing erect and, it seemed to Seldon, did so 
+with disdain. Raych was staring open-mouthed in all directions and looked as though he 
+didn’t even see the woman who had just entered. 
+
+She was plump-nor fat, but comfortably padded. She wore her hair precisely as 
+
+
+
+the young ladies did and her dress was in the same style, but much more richly 
+ornamented-too much so to suit Seldon’s aesthetic notions. 
+
+She was clearly middle-aged and there was a hint of gray in her hair, but the 
+dimples in her cheeks gave her the appearance of having rather more than a dash of 
+youth. Her light brown eyes were merry and on the whole she looked more motherly than 
+old. 
+
+She said, “How are you? All of you.” (She showed no surprise at the presence of 
+Dors and Raych, but included them easily in her greeting.) “I’ve been waiting for you for 
+some time and almost had you on Upperside at Streeling. You are Dr. Hari Seldon, whom 
+I’ve been looking forward to meeting. You, I think, must be Dr. Dors Venabili, for you 
+had been reported to be in his company. This young man I fear I do not know, but I am 
+pleased to see him. But we must not spend our time talking, for I’m sure you would like 
+to rest first.” 
+
+“And bathe, Madam, “ said Dors rather forcefully, “Each of us could use a 
+thorough shower.” 
+
+“Yes, certainly, “ said the woman, “and a change in clothing. Especially the 
+young man.” She looked down at Raych without any of the look of contempt and 
+disapproval that the two young women had shown. 
+
+She said, “What is your name, young man?” 
+
+“Raych, “ said Raych in a rather choked and embarrassed voice. He then added 
+experimentally, “Missus.” 
+
+“What an odd coincidence, “ said the woman, her eyes sparkling. “An omen, 
+perhaps. My own name is Rashelle. Isn’t that odd? —but come. We shall take care of you 
+all. Then there will be plenty of time to have dinner and to talk.” 
+
+“Wait, Madam, “ said Dors. “May I ask where we are?” 
+
+“Wye, dear. And please call me Rashelle, as you come to feel more friendly. I am 
+always at ease with informality.” 
+
+Dors stiffened. “Are you surprised that we ask? Isn’t it natural that we should 
+wane to know where we are?” 
+
+Rashelle laughed in a pleasant, tinkling manner. “Really, Dr. Venabili, something 
+must be done about the name of this place. I was not asking a question but making a 
+statement. You asked where you were and I did not ask you why. I told you, Wye.’ You 
+are in the Wye Sector.” 
+
+“In Wye?” said Seldon forcibly. 
+
+“Yes indeed, Dr. Seldon. We’ve wanted you from the day you addressed the 
+Decennial Convention and we are so glad to have you now.” 
+
+85 . 
+
+Actually, it took a full day to rest and unstiffen, to wash and get clean, to obtain 
+new clothes (satiny and rather loose, in the style of Wye), and to sleep a good deal. 
+
+It was during the second evening in Wye that there was the dinner that Madam 
+Rashelle had promised. 
+
+The table was a large one-too large, considering that there were only four dining: 
+Hari Seldon, Dors Venabili, Raych, and Rashelle. The walls and ceiling were softly 
+illuminated and the colors changed at a rate that caught the eye but not so rapidly as in 
+
+
+
+any way to discommode the mind. The very tablecloth, which was not cloth (Seldon had 
+not made up his mind what it might be), seemed to sparkle. 
+
+The servers were many and silent and when the door opened it seemed to Seldon 
+that he caught a glimpse of soldiers, armed and at the ready, outside. The room was a 
+velvet glove, but the iron fist was not far distant. 
+
+Rashelle was gracious and friendly and had clearly taken a particular liking to 
+Raych, who, she insisted, was to sit next to her. 
+
+Raych-scrubbed, polished, and shining, all but unrecognizable in his new clothes, 
+with his hair clipped, cleaned, and brushed — scarcely dared to say a word. It was as 
+though he felt his grammar no longer fit his appearance. He was pitifully ill at ease and 
+he watched Dors carefully as she switched from utensil to utensil, trying to match her 
+exactly in every respect. 
+
+The food was tasty but spicy-to the point where Seldon could not recognize the 
+exact nature of the dishes. 
+
+Rashelle, her plump face made happy by her gentle smile and her fine teeth 
+gleaming white, said, “You may think we have Mycogenian additives in the food, but we 
+do not. It is all homegrown in Wye. There is no sector on the planet more self-sufficient 
+than Wye. We labor hard to keep that so.” 
+
+Seldon nodded gravely and said, “Everything you have given us is first-rate, 
+Rashelle. We are much obliged to you.” 
+
+And yet within himself he thought the food was not quite up to Mycogenian 
+standards and he felt moreover, as he had earlier muttered to Dors, that he was 
+celebrating his own defeat. Or Hummin’s defeat, at any rare, and that seemed to him to 
+be the same thing. 
+
+After all, he had been captured by Wye, the very possibility that had so concerned 
+Hummin at the time of the incident Upperside. 
+
+Rashelle said, “Perhaps, in my role as hostess, I may be forgiven if I ask personal 
+questions. Am I correct in assuming that you three do not represent a family; that you, 
+Hari, and you, Dors, are not married and that Raych is not your son?” 
+
+“The three of us are not related in any way, “ said Seldon. “Raych was born on 
+Trantor, I on Helicon, Dors on Cinna.” 
+
+“And how did you all meet, then?” 
+
+Seldon explained briefly and with as little detail as he could manage . “There’s 
+nothing romantic or significant in the meetings, “ he added. 
+
+“Yet I am given to understand that you raised difficulties with my personal aide, 
+Sergeant Thalus, when he wanted to take only you out of Dahl.” 
+
+Seldon said gravely, “I had grown fond of Dors and Raych and did not wish to be 
+separated from them.” 
+
+Rashelle smiled and said, “You are a sentimental man, I see.” 
+
+“Yes, I am. Sentimental. And puzzled too.” 
+
+“Puzzled?” 
+
+“Why yes. And since you were so kind as to ask personal questions of us, may I 
+ask one as well?” 
+
+“Of course, my dear Hari. Ask anything you please.” 
+
+“When we first arrived, you said that Wye has wanted me from the day I 
+addressed the Decennial Convention. For what reason might that be?” 
+
+
+
+“Surely, you are not so simple as not to know. We want you for your 
+psychohistory.” 
+
+“That much I do understand. But what makes you think that having me means you 
+have psychohistory?” 
+
+“Surely, you have not been so careless as to lose it.” 
+
+“Worse, Rashelle. I have never had it” 
+
+Rashelle’s face dimpled. “But you said you had it in your talk. Not that I 
+understood your talk. I am not a mathematician. I hate numbers. But I have in my employ 
+mathematicians who have explained to me what it is you said.” 
+
+“In that case, my dear Rashelle, you must listen more closely. I can well imagine 
+they have cold you that I have proven that psychohistorical predictions are conceivable, 
+but surely they must also have cold you that they are not practical.” 
+
+“I can’t believe that, Hari. The very next day, you were called into an audience 
+with that pseudo-Emperor, Cleon.” 
+
+“The pseudo-Emperor?” murmured Dors ironically. 
+
+“Why yes, “ said Rashelle as though she was answering a serious question. 
+“Pseudo-Emperor. He has no true claim to the throne.” 
+
+“Rashelle, “ said Seldon, brushing that aside a bit impatiently, “I told Cleon 
+exactly what I have just told you and he let me go.” 
+
+Now Rashelle did nor smile. A small edge crept into her voice. “Yes, he let you 
+go the way the cat in the fable lets a mouse go. He has been pursuing you ever since-in 
+Streeling, in Mycogen, in Dahl. He would pursue you here if he dared. But come now-our 
+serious talk is too serious. Let us enjoy ourselves. Let us have music.” 
+
+And at her words, there suddenly sounded a soft but joyous instrumental melody. 
+She leaned toward Raych and said softly, “My boy, if you are not at ease with the fork, 
+use your spoon or your fingers. I won’t mind.” 
+
+Raych said, “Yes, mum, “ and swallowed hard, but Dors caught his eye and her 
+lips silently mouthed: “Fork.” 
+
+He remained with his fork. 
+
+Dors said, “The music is lovely, Madam”-she pointedly rejected the familiar form 
+of address “but it must not he allowed to distract us. There is the thought in my mind that 
+the pursuer in all those places might have been in the employ of the Wye Sector. Surely, 
+you would not be so well acquainted with events if Wye were not the prime mover.” 
+
+Rashelle laughed aloud. “Wye has its eyes and ears everywhere, of course, but we 
+were not the pursuers. Had we been, you would have been picked up without fail-as you 
+were in Dahl finally when, indeed, we were the pursuers. When, however, there is a 
+pursuit that fails, a grasping hand that misses, you may be sure that it is Demerzel.” 
+
+“Do you think so little of Demerzel?” murmured Dors. 
+
+“Yes. Does that surprise you? We have beaten him.” 
+
+“You? Or the Wye Sector?” 
+
+“The sector, of course, but insofar as Wye is the victor, then I am the victor.” 
+
+“How strange, “ said Dors. “There seems to be a prevalent opinion throughout 
+Trantor that the inhabitants of Wye have nothing to do with victory, with defeat, or with 
+anything else. It is felt that there is but one will and one fist in Wye and that is that of the 
+Mayor. Surely, you— or any other Wyan-weigh nothing in comparison.” 
+
+Rashelle smiled broadly. She paused to look at Raych benevolently and to pinch 
+
+
+
+his cheek, then said, “If you believe that our Mayor is an autocrat and that there is but one 
+will that sways Wye, then perhaps you are right. But, even so, I can still use the personal 
+pronoun, for my will is of account.” 
+
+“Why yours?” said Seldon. “Why not?” said Rashelle as the servers began 
+clearing the table. “I am the Mayor of Wye.” 
+
+86 . 
+
+It was Raych who was the first to react to the statement. Quite forgetting the cloak 
+of civility that sat upon him so uncomfortably, he laughed raucously and said, “Hey, lady, 
+ya can’t be Mayor. Mayors is guys.” 
+
+Rashelle looked at him good-naturedly and said in a perfect imitation of his tone 
+of voice, “Hey, kid, some Mayors is guys and some Mayors is dames. Put that under your 
+lid and let it bubble.” 
+
+Raych’ s eyes protruded and he seemed stunned. Finally he managed to say, “Hey, 
+ya talk regular, lady.” 
+
+“Sure thing. Regular as ya want, “ said Rashelle, still smiling. 
+
+Seldon cleared his throat and said, “That’s quite an accent you have, Rashelle.” 
+
+Rashelle tossed her head slightly. “I haven’t had occasion to use it in many years, 
+but one never forgets. I once had a friend, a good friend, who was a Dahlite-when I was 
+very young.” She sighed. “He didn’t speak that way, of course-he was quite intelligent 
+but he could do so if he wished and he taught me. It was exciting to talk so with him. It 
+created a world that excluded our surroundings. It was wonderful. It was also impossible. 
+My father made that plain. And now along comes this young rascal, Raych, to remind me 
+of those long-ego days. He has the accent, the eyes, the impudent cast of countenance, 
+and in six years or so he will be a delight and terror to the young women. Won’t you, 
+Raych?” 
+
+Raych said, “I dunno, lady-uh, mum.” 
+
+“I’m sure you will and you will come to look very much like my . . . old friend 
+and it will be much more comfortable for me not to see you then. And now, dinner’s over 
+and it’s time for you to go to your room, Raych. You can watch holovision for a while if 
+you wish. I don’t suppose you read.” 
+
+Raych reddened. “I’m gonna read someday. Master Seldon says I’m gonna.” 
+
+“Then I’m sure you will.” 
+
+A young woman approached Raych, curtsying respectfully in Rashelle’s 
+direction. Seldon had not seen the signal that had summoned her. 
+
+Raych said, “Can’t I stay with Master Seldon and Missus Venabili?” 
+
+“You ’ll see them later, “ said Rashelle gently, “but Master and Missus and I have 
+to Talk right now-so you must go.” 
+
+Dors mouthed a firm “Go!” at Raych and with a grimace the boy slid out of his 
+chair and followed the attendant. 
+
+Rashelle turned to Seldon and Dors once Raych was gone and said, “The boy will 
+be safe, of course, and treated well. Please have no fears about that. And I will be safe 
+too. As my woman approached just now, so will a dozen armed men— and much more 
+rapidly-when summoned. I want you to understand that.” 
+
+Seldon said evenly, “We are in no way thinking of attacking you, Rashelle— or 
+
+
+
+must I now say, ‘Madam Mayor’?” 
+
+“Still Rashelle. I am given to understand that you are a wrestler of sorts, Hari, and 
+you, Dors, are very skillful with the knives we have removed from your room. I don’t 
+want you to rely uselessly on your skills, since I want Hari alive, unharmed, and 
+friendly.” 
+
+“It is quite well understood, Madam Mayor, “ said Dors, her lack of friendship 
+uncompromised, “that the ruler of Wye, now and for the past forty years, is Mannix, 
+Fourth of that Name, and that he is still alive and in full possession of his faculties. Who, 
+then, are you really?” 
+
+“Exactly who I say I am, Dors. Mannix IV is my father. He is, as you say, still 
+alive and in possession of his faculties. In the eyes of the Emperor and of all the Empire, 
+he is Mayor of Wye, but he is weary of the strains of power and is willing, at last, to let 
+them slip into my hands, which are just as willing to receive them. I am his only child and 
+I was brought up all my life to rule. My father is therefore Mayor in law and name, but I 
+am Mayor in fact. It is to me, now, that the armed forces of Wye have sworn allegiance 
+and in Wye that is all that counts.” 
+
+Seldon nodded. “Let it be as you say. But even so, whether it is Mayor Mannix IV 
+or Mayor Rashelle I-it is the First, I suppose there is no purpose in your holding me. I 
+have told you that I don’t have a workable psychohistory and I do not think that either I 
+or anyone else will ever have one. I have cold that to the Emperor. I am of no use either 
+to you or to him.” 
+
+Rashelle said, “How naive you are. Do you know the history of the Empire?” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “I have recently come to wish that I knew it much better.” 
+
+Dors said dryly, “I know Imperial history quite well, though the pre-imperial age 
+is my specialty, Madam Mayor. But what does it matter whether we do or do not?” 
+
+“If you know your history, you know that the House of Wye is ancient and 
+honorable and is descended from the Dacian dynasty.” 
+
+Dors said, “The Dacians ruled five thousand years ago. The number of their 
+descendants in the hundred and fifty generations that have lived and died since then may 
+number half the population of the Galaxy-if all genealogical claims, however outrageous, 
+are accepted.” 
+
+“Our genealogical claims, Dr. Venabili”-Rashelle’s tone of voice was, for the first 
+time, cold and unfriendly and her eyes flashed like steel— ’’are not outrageous. They are 
+fully documented. The House of Wye has maintained itself consistently in positions of 
+power through all those generations and there have been occasions when we have held 
+the Imperial throne and have ruled as Emperors.” 
+
+“The history book- films, “ said Dors, “usually refer to the Wye rulers as ‘anti- 
+Emperors, ‘ never recognized by the bulk of the Empire.” 
+
+“It depends on who writes the history book-films. In the future, we wilt, for the 
+throne which has been ours will be ours again.” 
+
+“To accomplish that, you must bring about civil war.” 
+
+“There won’t be much risk of that, “ said Rashelle. She was smiling again. “That 
+is what I must explain to you because I want Dr. Seldon’ s help in preventing such a 
+catastrophe. My father, Mannix IV, has been a man of peace all his life. He has been 
+loyal to whomever it might be that ruled in the Imperial Palace and he has kept Wye a 
+prosperous and strong pillar of the Trantorian economy for the good of all the Empire.” 
+
+
+
+“I don’t know that the Emperor has ever trusted him any the more for all that, “ 
+said Dors. 
+
+“I’m sure that is so, “ said Rashelle calmly, “for the Emperors that have occupied 
+the Palace in my father’s time have known themselves to be usurpers of a usurping line. 
+Usurpers cannot afford to trust the true rulers. And yet my father has kept the peace. He 
+has, of course, developed and trained a magnificent security force to maintain the peace, 
+prosperity, and stability of the sector and the Imperial authorities have allowed this 
+because they wanted Wye peaceful, prosperous, stable— and loyal.” 
+
+“But is it loyal?” said Dors. 
+
+“To the true Emperor, of course, “ said Rashelle, “and we have now reached the 
+stage where our strength is such that we can take over the government quickly-in a 
+lightning stroke, in fact— and before one can say ‘civil war’ there will be a true Emperor— 
+or Empress, if you prefer— and Trantor will be as peaceful as before.” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “May I enlighten you? As a historian?” 
+
+“I am always willing to listen.” And she inclined her head ever so slightly toward 
+
+Dors. 
+
+“Whatever size your security force may be, however well-trained and well- 
+equipped, they cannot possibly equal in size and strength the Imperial forces backed by 
+twenty-five million worlds.” 
+
+“Ah, but you have put your finger on the usurper’s weakness, Dr. Venabili. There 
+are twenty-five million worlds, with the Imperial forces scattered over them. Those forces 
+are thinned out over incalculable space, under uncounted officers, none of them 
+particularly ready for any action outside their own Provinces, many ready for action in 
+their own interest rather than in the Empire’s. Our forces, on the other hand, are all here, 
+all on Trantor. We can act and conclude before the distant generals and admirals can get 
+it through their heads that they are needed.” 
+
+“But that response will come— and with irresistible force.” 
+
+“Are you certain of that?” said Rashelle. “We will be in the Palace. Trantor will 
+be ours and at peace. Why should the Imperial forces stir when, by minding their own 
+business, each petty military leader can have his own world to rule, his own Province?” 
+
+“But is that what you want?” asked Seldon wonderingly. “Are you telling me that 
+you look forward to ruling over an Empire that will break up into splinters?” 
+
+Rashelle said, “That is exactly right. I would rule over Trantor, over its outlying 
+space settlements, over the few nearby planetary systems that are part of the Trantorian 
+Province. I would much rather be Emperor of Trantor than Emperor of the Galaxy.” 
+
+“You would be satisfied with Trantor only, “ said Dors in tones of the deepest 
+disbelief. 
+
+“Why not?” said Rashelle, suddenly ablaze. She leaned forward eagerly, both 
+hands pressed palms-down on the table. “That is what my father has been planning for 
+forty years. He is only clinging to life now to witness its fulfillment. Why do we need 
+millions of worlds, distant worlds that mean nothing to us, that weaken us, that draw our 
+forces far away from us into meaningless cubic parsecs of space, that drown us in 
+administrative chaos, that ruin us with their endless quarrels and problems when they are 
+all distant nothings as far as we are concerned? Our own populous world-our own 
+planetary city-is Galaxy enough for us. We have all we need to support ourselves. As for 
+the rest of the Galaxy, let it splinter. Every petty militarist can have his own splinter. 
+
+
+
+They needn’t fight. There will be enough for all.” 
+
+“But they will fight, just the same, “ said Dors. “Each will refuse to be satisfied 
+with his Province. Each will feat that his neighbor is not satisfied with his Province. Each 
+will feel insecure and will dream of Galactic rule as the only guarantee of safety. This is 
+certain, Madam Empress of Nothing. There will be endless wars into which you and 
+Trantor will be inevitably drawn-to the ruin of all.” 
+
+Rashelle said with clear contempt, “So it might seem, if one could see no farther 
+than you do, if one relied on the ordinary lessons of history.” 
+
+“What is there to see farther?” retorted Dors. “What is one to rely on beyond the 
+lessons of history?” 
+
+“What lies beyond?” said Rashelle. “Why, he.’“ 
+
+And her arm shot outward, her index finger jabbing toward Seldon. 
+
+“Me?” said Seldon. “I have already told you that psychohistory—” 
+
+Rashelle said, “Do not repeat what you have already said, my good Dr. Seldon. 
+We gain nothing by that. -Do you think, Dr. Venabili, that my father was never aware of 
+the danger of endless civil war? Do you think he did not bend his powerful mind to 
+thinking of some way to prevent that? He has been prepared at any time these last ten 
+years to take over the Empire in a day. It needed only the assurance of security beyond 
+victory.” 
+
+“Which you can’t have, “ said Dors. 
+
+“Which we had the moment we heard of Dr. Seldon’ s paper at the Decennial 
+Convention. I saw at once that that was what we needed. My father was too old to see the 
+significance at once. When I explained it, however, he saw it too and it was then that he 
+formally transferred his power to me. So it is to you, Hari, that I owe my position and to 
+you I will owe my greater position in the future.” 
+
+“I keep telling you that it cannot—” began Seldon with deep annoyance. 
+
+“It is not important what can or cannot be done. What is important is what people 
+will or will not believe can be done. They will believe you, Hari, when you tell them the 
+psychohistoric prediction is that Trantor can rule itself and that the Provinces can become 
+Kingdoms that will live together in peace.” 
+
+“I will make no such prediction, “ said Seldon, “in the absence of true 
+psychohistory. I won’t play the charlatan. If you want something like that, you say it.” 
+
+“Now, Hari. They won’t believe me. It’s you they will believe. The great 
+mathematician. Why not oblige them?” 
+
+“As it happens, “ said Seldom “the Emperor also thought to use me as a source of 
+self-serving prophecies. I refused to do it for him, so do you think I will agree to do it for 
+you?” 
+
+Rashelle was silent for a while and when she spoke again her voice had lost its 
+intense excitement and became almost coaxing. 
+
+“Hari, “ she said, “think a little of the difference between Cleon and myself. What 
+Cleon undoubtedly wanted from you was propaganda to preserve his throne. It would be 
+useless to give him that, for the throne can’t be preserved. Don’t you know that the 
+Galactic Empire is in a state of decay, that it cannot endure for much longer? Trantor 
+itself is slowly sliding into ruin because of the ever-increasing weight of administering 
+twenty-five million worlds. What’s ahead of us is breakup and civil war, no matter what 
+you do for Cleon.” 
+
+
+
+then?” 
+
+
+Seldon said, “I have heard something like this said. It may even be true, but what 
+
+“Well then, help it break into fragments without any war. Help me take Trantor. 
+Help me establish a firm government over a realm small enough to 6e ruled efficiently. 
+Let me give freedom to the rest of the Galaxy, each portion to go its own way according 
+to its own customs and cultures. The Galaxy will become a working whole again through 
+the free agencies of trade, tourism, and communication and the fate of cracking into 
+disaster under the present rule of force that barely holds it together will be averted. My 
+ambition is moderate indeed; one world, not millions; peace, not war; freedom, not 
+slavery. Think about it and help me.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Why should the Galaxy believe me any more than they would 
+believe you? They don’t know me and which of our fleet commanders will be impressed 
+by the mere word ‘psychohistory’?” 
+
+“You won’t be believed now, but I don’t ask for action now. The House of Wye, 
+having waited thousands of years, can wait thousands of days more. Cooperate with me 
+and I will make your name famous. I will make the promise of psychohistory glow 
+through all the worlds and at the proper time, when I judge the movement to be the 
+chosen moment, you will pronounce your prediction and we will strike. Then, in a 
+twinkling of history, the Galaxy will exist under a New Order that will render it stable 
+and happy for eons. Come now, Hari, can you refuse me?” 
+
+Overthrow 
+
+
+THALUS, EMMER- ... A sergeant in the armed security forces of the Wye 
+Sector of ancient Trantor . . . 
+
+. . . Aside from these totally unremarkable vital statistics, nothing is known of the 
+man except that on one occasion he held the fate of the Galaxy in his fist. 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+87 . 
+
+Breakfast the next morning was served in an alcove near the rooms of the 
+captured three and it was luxurious indeed. There certainly was a considerable variety to 
+the food and more than enough of everything. 
+
+Seldon sat at the breakfast table with a mound of spicy sausages before him, 
+totally ignoring Dors Venabili’s gloomy predictions concerning stomachs and colic. 
+
+Raych said, “The dame ... the Madam Mayor said when she came to see me last 
+night-” 
+
+“She came to see you?” said Seldon. 
+
+“Yeah. She said she wanted to make sure I was comfortable. She said when she 
+had a chance she would take me to a zoo.” 
+
+“A zoo?” Seldon looked at Dors. “What kind of zoo can they have on Trantor? 
+Cats and dogs?” 
+
+“There are some aboriginal animals, “ said Dors, “and I imagine they import some 
+aboriginals from other worlds and there are also the shared animals that all the worlds 
+have-other worlds having more than Trantor, of course. As a matter of fact, Wye has a 
+
+
+
+famous zoo, probably the best on the planet after the Imperial Zoo itself.” 
+
+Raych said, “She’s a nice old lady.” 
+
+“Not that old, “ said Dors, “but she’s certainly feeding us well.” 
+
+“There’s that, “ admitted Seldon. 
+
+When breakfast was over, Raych left to go exploring. 
+
+Once they had retired to Dors’ s room, Seldon said with marked discontent, “I 
+don’t know how long we’ll be left to ourselves. She’s obviously plotted ways of 
+preoccupying our time.” 
+
+Dors said, “Actually, we have little to complain of at the moment. We’re much 
+more comfortable here than we were either in Mycogen or Dahl.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Dors, you’re not being won over by that woman, are you?” 
+
+“Me? By Rashelle? Of course not. How can you possibly think so?” 
+
+“Welt, you’re comfortable. You’re well-fed. It would be natural to relax and 
+accept what fortune brings.” 
+
+“Yes, very natural. And why not do that?” 
+
+“Look, you were telling me last night about what’s going to happen if she wins 
+out. I may not be much of a historian myself, but I am willing to take your word for it 
+and, actually, it makes sense even to a nonhistorian. The Empire will shatter and its 
+shards will be fighting each other for ... for .. . indefinitely. She must be stopped.” 
+
+“I agree, “ said Dors. “She must be. What I fail to see is how we can manage to do 
+that little thing right at this moment.” She looked at Seldon narrowly. “Hari, you didn’t 
+sleep fast night, did you?” 
+
+“Did you?” It was apparent he had not. 
+
+Dors stared at him, a troubled look clouding her face. “Have you lain awake 
+thinking of Galactic destruction because of what I said?” 
+
+“That and some other things. Is it possible to reach Chetter Hummin?” This last 
+was said in a whisper. 
+
+Dors said, “I tried to reach him when we first had to flee arrest in Dahl. He didn’t 
+come. I’m sure he received the message, but he didn’t come. It may be that, for any of a 
+number of reasons, he just couldn’t come to us, but when he can he will.” 
+
+“Do you suppose something has happened to him?” 
+
+“No, “ said Dors patiendy. “I don’t think so.” 
+
+“How can you know?” 
+
+“The word would somehow get to me. I’m sure of it. And the word hasn’t gotten 
+
+to me.” 
+
+Seldon frowned and said, “I’m not as confident as you are about all this. In fact, 
+I’m not confident at all. Even if Hummin came, what can he do in this case? He can’t 
+fight all of Wye. If they have, as Rashelle claims, the best-organized army on Trantor, 
+what will he be able to do against it?” 
+
+“There’s no point in discussing that. Do you suppose you can convince Rashelle- 
+bang it into her head somehow-that you don’t have psychohistory?” 
+
+“I’m sure she’s aware that I don’t have it and that I’m not going to get it for many 
+years-if at all. But she’ll say I have psychohistory and if she does that skillfully enough, 
+people will believe her and eventually they will act on what she says my predictions and 
+pronouncements are— even if I don’t say a word.” 
+
+“Surely, that will take rime. She won’t build you up overnight. Or in a week. To 
+
+
+
+do it properly, it might take her a year.” 
+
+Seldon was pacing the length of the room, turning sharply on his heel and striding 
+back. “That might be so, but I don’t know. There would be pressure on her to do things 
+quickly. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who has cultivated the habit of 
+patience. And her old father, Mannix IV, would be even more impatient. He must feel the 
+nearness of death and if he’s worked for this all his life, he would much prefer to see it 
+done a week before his death rather than a week after. Besides—” Here he paused and 
+looked around the empty room. 
+
+“Besides what?” 
+
+“Well, we must have our freedom. You see, I’ve solved the psychohistory 
+problem.” 
+
+Dors’s eyes widened. “You have it! You’ve worked it out.” 
+
+“Not worked it out in the full sense. That might take decades . . . centuries, for all 
+I know. But I now know it’s practical, not just theoretical. I know it can be done so I must 
+have the time, the peace, the facilities to work at it. The Empire must be held together till 
+I— or possibly my successors-will learn how best to keep it so or how to minimize the 
+disaster if it does split up despite us. It was the thought of having a beginning to my task 
+and of not being able to work at it, that kept me up last night.” 
+
+88 . 
+
+It was their fifth day in Wye and in the morning Dors was helping Raych into a 
+formal costume that neither was quite familiar with. 
+
+Raych looked at himself dubiously in the holo-mirror and saw a reflected image 
+that faced him with precision, imitating all his motions but without any inversion of left 
+and right. Raych had never used a holo-mirror before and had been unable to keep from 
+trying to feel it, then laughing, almost with embarrassment, when his hand passed through 
+it while the image’s hand poked ineffectually at his real body. 
+
+He said at last, “I look funny.” 
+
+He studied his tunic, which was made of a very pliant material, with a thin 
+filigreed belt, then passed his hands up a stiff collar that rose like a cup past his ears on 
+either side. 
+
+“My head looks like a ball inside a bowl.” 
+
+Dors said, “But this is the sort of thing rich children wear in Wye. Everyone who 
+sees you will admire you and envy you.” 
+
+“With my hair all stuck down?” 
+
+“Certainly. You’ll wear this round little hat.” 
+
+“It’ll make my head more like a ball.” 
+
+“Then don’t let anyone kick it. Now, remember what I told you. Keep your wits 
+about you and don’t act like a kid.” 
+
+“But I am a kid, “ he said, looking up at her with a wide-eyed innocent 
+expression. 
+
+“I’m surprised to hear you say that, “ said Dors. “I’m sure you think of yourself as 
+a twelve-year-old adult.” 
+
+Raych grinned. “Okay. I’ll be a good spy.” 
+
+“That’s not what I’m telling you to be. Don’t take chances. Don’t sneak behind 
+
+
+
+doors to listen. If you get caught at it, you’re no good to anyone-especially not to 
+yourself.” 
+
+“Aw, c’mon, Missus, what do ya think I am? A kid or somethin’?” 
+
+“You just said you were, didn’t you, Raych? You just listen to everything that’s 
+said without seeming to. And remember what you hear. And tell us. That’s simple 
+enough.” 
+
+“Simple enough for you to say, Missus Venabili, “ said Raych with a grin, “and 
+simple enough for me to do.” 
+
+“And be careful.” 
+
+Raych winked. “You bet.” 
+
+A flunky (as coolly impolite as only an arrogant flunky can be) came to take 
+Raych to where Rashelle was awaiting him. 
+
+Seldon looked after them and said thoughtfully, “He probably won’t see the zoo, 
+he’ll be listening so carefully. I’m not sure it’s right to thrust a boy into danger like that.” 
+
+“Danger? I doubt it. Raych was brought up in the slums of Billibotton, remember. 
+I suspect he has more alley smarts than you and I put together. Besides, Rashelle is fond 
+of him and will interpret everything he does in his favor. -Poor woman.” 
+
+“Are you actually sorry for her, Dors?” 
+
+“Do you mean that she’s not worth sympathy because she’s a Mayor’s daughter 
+and considers herself a Mayor in her own right and because she’s intent on destroying the 
+Empire? Perhaps you’re right, but even so there are some aspects of her for which one 
+might show some sympathy. For instance, she’s had an unhappy love affair. That’s pretty 
+evident. Undoubtedly, her heart was broken-for a time, at least.” 
+
+Seldon said, “Have you ever had an unhappy love affair, Dors?” 
+
+Der considered for a moment or two, then said, “Not really. I’m too involved with 
+my work to get a broken heart.” 
+
+“I thought as much.” 
+
+“Then why did you ask?” 
+
+“I might have been wrong.” 
+
+“How about you?” 
+
+Seldon seemed uneasy. “As a matter of fact, yes. I have spared the time for a 
+broken heart. Badly cracked, anyway.” 
+
+“I thought as much.” 
+
+“Then why did you ask?” 
+
+“Not because I thought I might be wrong, I promise you. I just wanted to see if 
+you would lie. You didn’t and I’m glad.” 
+
+There was a pause and then Seldon said, “Five days have passed and nothing has 
+happened.” 
+
+“Except that we are being treated well, Hari.” 
+
+“If animals could think, they’d think they were being treated well when they were 
+only being fattened for the slaughter.” 
+
+“I admit she’s fattening the Empire for the slaughter.” 
+
+“But when?” 
+
+“I presume when she’s ready.” 
+
+“She boasted she could complete the coup in a day and the impression I got was 
+that she could do that on any day.” 
+
+
+
+“Even if she could, she would want to make sure that she could cripple the 
+Imperial reaction and that might take time.” 
+
+“How much time? She plans to cripple the reaction by using me, but she is 
+making no effort to do so. There is no sign that she’s trying to build up my importance. 
+Wherever I go in Wye I’m unrecognized. There are no Wyan crowds gathering to cheer 
+me. There’s nothing on the news holocasts.” 
+
+Dors smiled. “One would almost suppose that your feelings are hurt at not being 
+made famous. You’re naive, Hari. Or not a historian, which is the same thing. I think you 
+had better be more pleased that the study of psychohistory will be bound to make a 
+historian of you than that it may save the Empire. If all human beings understood history, 
+they might cease making the same stupid mistakes over and over.” 
+
+“In what way am I native?” asked Seldom lifting his head and staring down his 
+nose at her. 
+
+“Don’t be offended, Hari. I think it’s one of your attractive features, actually.” 
+
+“I know. It arouses your maternal instincts and you have been asked to take care 
+of me. But in what way am I naive?” 
+
+“In thinking that Rashelle would cry to propagandize the population of the 
+Empire, generally, into accepting you as seer. She would accomplish nothing in that way. 
+Quadrillions of people are hard to move quickly. There is social and psychological 
+inertia, as well as physical inertia. And, by coming out into the open, she would simply 
+alert Demerzel.” 
+
+“Then what is she doing?” 
+
+“My guess is that the information about you-suitably exaggerated and glorified-is 
+going out to a crucial few. It is going to those Viceroys of sectors, those admirals of 
+fleets, those people of influence she feels look kindly, upon her— or grimly upon the 
+Emperor. A hundred or so of those who might rally to her side will manage to confuse the 
+Loyalists just long enough to allow Rashelle the First to set up her New Order firmly 
+enough to beat off whatever resistance might develop. At least, I imagine that is how she 
+reasons.” 
+
+“And yet we haven’t heard from Hummin.” 
+
+“I’m sure he must be doing something just the same. This is too important to 
+ignore.” 
+
+“Has it occurred to you that he might be dead?” 
+
+“That’s a possibility, but I don’t think so. If he was, the news would reach me.” 
+
+“Here?” 
+
+“Even here.” 
+
+Seldon raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. 
+
+Raych came back in the late afternoon, happy and excited, with descriptions of 
+monkeys and of Bakarian demoires and he dominated the conversation during dinner. 
+
+It was not until after dinner when they were in their own quarters that Dors said, 
+“Now, tell me what happened with Madam Mayor, Raych. Tell me anything she did or 
+said that you think we ought to know.” 
+
+“One thing, “ said Raych, his face lighting up. “That’s why she didn’t show at 
+dinner, I bet.” 
+
+“What was it?” 
+
+“The zoo was closed except for us, you know. There were lots of us, Rashelle and 
+
+
+
+me and all sorts of guys in uniforms and dames in fancy clothes and like that. Then this 
+guy in a uniform-a different guy, who wasn’t there to begin with-came in toward the end 
+and he said something in a low voice and Rashelle corned to all the people and made with 
+her hand like they shouldn’t move and they didn’t. And she went a little ways away with 
+this new guy, so she could talk to him and no one could hear her. Except I kept paying no 
+attention and kept looking at the different cages and sort of moved near to Rashelle so I 
+could hear her. 
+
+“She said, ‘How dare they?’ like she was real mad. And the guy in the uniform, 
+he looked nervous-I just got quick looks because I was trying to make out like I was 
+watching the animals-so mostly I just heard the words. He said somebody-I don’t 
+remember the name, but he was a general or somethin'. He said this general said the 
+officers had sworn religious to Rashelle ’s old man—” 
+
+“Sworn allegiance, “ said Dors. 
+
+“Somethin’ like that and they was nervous about havin’ to do what a dame says. 
+He said they wanted the old man or else, if he was kind of sick, he should pick some guy 
+to be Mayor, not a dame.” 
+
+“Not a dame? Are you sure?” 
+
+“That’s what he said. He like whispered it. He was so nervous and Rashelle was 
+so mad she could hardly speak. She said, ‘I’ll have his head. They wilt all swear 
+allegiance to me tomorrow and whoever refuses will lave cause to regret it before an hour 
+has passed.’ That’s exactly what she said. She broke up the whole party and we all came 
+back and she didn’t say one word to me al! the rime. Just sat there, looking kinda mean 
+and angry.” 
+
+Dors said, “Good. Don’t you mention this to anyone, Raych.” 
+
+“Course not. Is it what you wanted?” 
+
+“Very much what I wanted. You did well, Raych. Now, go to your room and 
+forget the whole thing. Don’t even think about it.” 
+
+Once he was gone, Dors turned to Seldon and said, “This is very interesting. 
+Daughters have succeeded fathers— or mothers, for that matter— and held Mayoralties or 
+other high offices on any number of occasions. There have even been reigning 
+Empresses, as you undoubtedly know, and I can’t recall that there was ever in Imperial 
+history any serious question of serving under one. It makes one wonder why such a thing 
+should now, arise in Wye.” 
+
+Seldon said, Why not? We’ve only recently been in Mycogen, where women are 
+held in a total lack of esteem and couldn’t possibly hold positions of power, however 
+minor.” 
+
+“Yes, of course, but that’s an exception. There are other places where women 
+dominate. For the most part, though, government and power have been more or less 
+equisexual. If more men tend to hold high positions, it is usually because women tend to 
+be more bound-biologically-to children.” 
+
+“But what is the situation in Wye?” 
+
+“Equisexual, as far as I know. Rashelle didn’t hesitate to assume Mayoral power 
+and I imagine old Mannix didn’t hesitate to grant it to her. And she was surprised and 
+furious at encountering male dissent. She can’t have expected it.” 
+
+Seldon said, “You’re clearly pleased at this. Why?” 
+
+“Simply because it’s so unnatural that it must be contrived and I imagine Hummin 
+
+
+
+is doing the contriving.” 
+
+Seldon said thoughtfully, “You think so?” 
+
+“I do, “ said Dors. 
+
+“You know, “ said Seldon, “so do I.” 
+
+89 . 
+
+It was their tenth day in Wye and in the morning Hari Seldon’ s door signal 
+sounded and Raych’s high-pitched voice outside was crying out, “Mister! Mister Seldom 
+It’s war!” 
+
+Seldon took a moment to swap from sleep to wakefulness and scrambled out of 
+bed. He was shivering slightly (the Wyans liked their domiciles on the chilly side, he had 
+discovered quite early in his stay there) when he threw the door open. 
+
+Raych bounced in, excited and wide-eyed. “Mister Seldon, they have Mannix, the 
+old Mayor’. They have—” 
+
+“Who have, Raych?” 
+
+“The Imperials, Their jets came in last night all over. The news holocasts are 
+telling all about it. It’s on in Missus���s room. She said to let ya sleep, but I figured ya 
+would wanner know.” 
+
+“And you were quite right.” Seldom pausing only tong enough to throw on a 
+bathrobe, burst into Dors’ s room. She was fully dressed and was watching the bolo-sec in 
+the alcove. 
+
+Behind the clear, small image of a desk sat a man, with the Spaceship-and-Sun 
+sharply defined on the left-front of his tunic. On either side, two soldiers, also wearing 
+the Spaceship-and-Sun, stood armed. The officer at the desk was saying, “-is under the 
+peaceful control of his Imperial Majesty. Mayor Mannix is safe and well and is in full 
+possession of his Mayoral powers under the guidance of friendly Imperial troops. He will 
+be before you soon to urge calm on all Wyans and to ask any Wyan soldiers still in arms 
+to lay them down.” 
+
+There were other news holocasts by various newsmen with unemotional voices, 
+all wearing Imperial armbands. The news was all the same: surrender by this or that unit 
+of the Wyan security forces after firing a few shots for the record— and sometimes after 
+no resistance at all. This town center and that town center were occupied— and there were 
+repeated views of Wyan crowds somberly watching Imperial forces marching down the 
+streets. 
+
+Dors said, “It was perfectly executed, Hari. Surprise was complete. There was no 
+chance of resistance and none of consequence was offered.” 
+
+Then Mayor Mannix IV appeared, as had been promised. He was standing upright 
+and, perhaps for the sake of appearances, there were no Imperials in sight, though Seldon 
+was reasonably certain that an adequate number were present just out of camera range. 
+
+Mannix was old, but his strength, though worn, was still apparent. His eyes did 
+not meet the holo-camera and his words were spoken as though forced upon him-but, as 
+had been promised, they counseled Wyans to remain calm, to offer no resistance, to keep 
+Wye from harm, and to cooperate with the Emperor who, it was hoped, would survive 
+long on the throne. 
+
+“No mention of Rashelle, “ said Seldon. “It’s as though his daughter doesn’t 
+
+
+
+exist.” 
+
+
+“No one has mentioned her, “ said Dors, “and this place, which is, after all, her 
+residence— or one of them-hasn’t been attacked. Even if she manages to slip away and 
+take refuge in some neighboring sector, I doubt she will be safe anywhere on Trantor for 
+long.” 
+
+“Perhaps not, “ came a voice; “but I’ll be safe here for a little while.” 
+
+Rashelle entered. She was properly dressed, properly calm. She was even smiling, 
+but it was no smile of joy; it was, rather, a cold baring of teeth. 
+
+The three stared at her in surprise for a moment and Seldon wondered if she had 
+any of her servants with her or if they had promptly deserted her at the first sign of 
+adversity. 406 
+
+Dors said a little coldly, “I see, Madam Mayor, that your hopes for a coup can not 
+be maintained. Apparendy, you have been forestalled.” 
+
+“I have not been forestalled. I have been betrayed. My officers have been 
+tampered with and-against all history and rationality — they have refused to fight for a 
+woman but only for their old master. And, traitors that they are, they then let their old 
+master be seized so that he cannot lead them in resistance.” 
+
+She looked about for a chair and sat down. “And now the Empire must continue 
+to decay and die when I was prepared to offer it new life.” 
+
+“I think, “ said Dors, “the Empire has avoided an indefinite period of useless 
+fighting and destruction. Console yourself with that, Madam Mayor.” 
+
+It was as though Rashelle did not hear her. “So many years of preparation 
+destroyed in a night.” She sat there beaten, defeated, and seemed to have aged twenty 
+years. 
+
+Dors said, “It could scarcely have been done in a night. The suborning of your 
+officers-if that took place-must have taken time.” 
+
+“At that, Demerzel is a master and quite obviously I underestimated him. How he 
+did it, I don’t know-threats, bribes, smooth and specious argument. He is a master at the 
+art of stealth and betrayal-I should have known.” 
+
+She went on after a pause. “If this was outright force on his part, I would have had 
+no trouble destroying anything he sent against us. Who would think that Wye would be 
+betrayed, that an oath of allegiance would be so lighdy thrown aside?” 
+
+Seldon said with automatic rationality, “But I imagine the oath was made not to 
+you, but to your father.” 
+
+“Nonsense, “ said Rashelle vigorously. “When my father gave me the Mayoral 
+office, as he was legally entitled to do, he automatically passed on to me any oaths of 
+allegiance made to him. There is ample precedence for this. It is customary to have the 
+oath repeated to the new ruler, but that is a ceremony only and not a legal requirement. 
+My officers know that, though they choose to forget. They use my womanhood as an 
+excuse because they quake in fear of Imperial vengeance that would never have come had 
+they been staunch or tremble with greed for promised rewards they will surely never get- 
+if I know Demerzel.” 
+
+She turned sharply toward Seldon. “He wants you, you know. Demerzel struck at 
+us for you.” 
+
+Seldon started. “Why me?” 
+
+“Don’t be a fool. For the same reason I wanted you ... to use you as a cool, of 
+
+
+
+course.” She sighed. “At least I am not utterly betrayed. There are still loyal soldiers to be 
+found. -Sergeant!” 
+
+Sergeant Emmer Thalus entered with a soft cautious step that seemed 
+incongruous, considering his size. His uniform was spruce, his long blond mustache 
+fiercely curled. 
+
+“Madam Mayor, “ he said, drawing himself to attention with a snap. 
+
+He was still, in appearance, the side of beef that Hari had named him-a man still 
+following orders blindly, totally oblivious to the new and changed state of affairs. 
+
+Rashelle smiled sadly at Raych. “And how are you, little Raych? I had meant to 
+make something of you. It seems now I won’t be able to.” 
+
+“Hello, Missus . . . Madam, “ said Raych awkwardly. 
+
+“And to have made something of you too, Dr. Seldom” said Rashelle, “and there 
+also I must crave pardon. I cannot.” 
+
+“For me, Madam, you need have no regrets.” 
+
+“But I do. I cannot very well let Demerzel have you. That would be one victory 
+too many for him and at least I can stop that.” 
+
+“I would not work for him, Madam, I assure you, any more than I would have 
+worked for you.” 
+
+“It is not a matter of work. It is a matter of being used. Farewell, Dr. Seldon. - 
+Sergeant, blast him.” 
+
+The sergeant drew his blaster at once and Dors, with a loud cry, lunged forward— 
+but Seldon reached out for her and caught her by the elbow. He hung on desperately. 
+
+“Stay hack, Dors, “ he shouted, “or he’ll kill you. He won’t kill me. You too, 
+Raych. Stand back. Don’t move.” 
+
+Seldon faced the sergeant. “You hesitate, Sergeant, because you know you cannot 
+shoot I might have killed you ten days ago, but I did not. And you gave me your word of 
+honor at that time that you would protect me.” 
+
+“What are you waiting for?” snapped Rashelle. “I said shoot him down, 
+
+Sergeant.” 
+
+Seldom said nothing more. He stood there while the sergeant, eyes bulging, held 
+his blaster steady and pointed at Seldon’ s head. 
+
+“You have your order!” shrieked Rashelle. 
+
+“I have your word, “ said Seldon quietly. 
+
+And Sergeant Thalus said in a choked tone, “Dishonored either way.” His hand 
+fell and his blaster clanged to the floor. 
+
+Rashelle cried out, “Then you too betray me’.” 
+
+Before Seldon could move or Dors free herself from his grip, Rashelle seized the 
+blaster, turned it on the sergeant, and closed contact. 
+
+Seldon had never seen anyone blasted before. Somehow, from the name of the 
+weapon perhaps, he had expected a loud noise, an explosion of flesh and blood. This 
+Wyan blaster, at least, did nothing of the sort. What mangling it did to the organs inside 
+the sergeant’s chest Seldon could not tell but, without a change in expression, without a 
+wince of pain, the sergeant crumbled and fell, dead beyond any doubt or any hope. 
+
+And Rashelle turned the blaster on Seldon with a firmness that put to rest any 
+hope for his own life beyond the next second. 
+
+It was Raych, however, who jumped into action the moment the sergeant fell. 
+
+
+
+Racing between Seldon and Rashelle, he waved his hands wildly. 
+
+“Missus, Missus, “ he called. “Don’t shoot.” 
+
+For a moment, Rashelle looked confused. “Out of the way, Raych. I don’t want to 
+hurt you.” 
+
+That moment of hesitation was all Dors needed. Breaking loose violently, she 
+plunged toward Rashelle with a long low dive. Rashelle went down with a cry and the 
+blaster hit the ground a second time. 
+
+Raych retrieved it. 
+
+Seldon, with a deep and shuddering breath, said, “Raych, give that to me.” 
+
+But Raych backed away. “Ya ain’t gonna kill her, are ya, Mister Seldon? She was 
+nice to me.” 
+
+“I won’t kill anyone, Raych, “ said Seldon. “She killed the sergeant and would 
+have killed me, but she didn’t shoot rather than hurt you and we’ll let her live for that.” 
+
+It was Seldon, who now sat down, the blaster held loosely in his hand, white Dors 
+removed the neuronic whip from the dead sergeant’s other holster. 
+
+A new voice rang out. “I’ll take care of her now, Seldon.” 
+
+Seldon looked up and in sudden joy said, “Hummin! Finally!” 
+
+“I’m sorry it took so long, Seldon. I had a lot to do. How are you, Dr. Venabili? I 
+take it this is Mannix’s daughter, Rashelle. But who is the boy?” 
+
+“Raych is a young Dahlite friend of ours, “ said Seldon. 
+
+Soldiers were entering and, at a small gesture from Hummin, they lifted Rashelle 
+respectfully. 
+
+Dors, able to suspend her intent surveillance of the other woman, brushed at her 
+clothes with her hands and smoothed her blouse. Seldon suddenly realized that he was 
+still in his bathrobe. 
+
+Rashelle, shaking herself loose from the soldiers with contempt, pointed to 
+Hummin and said to Seldon, “Who is this?” 
+
+Seldon said, “It is Chetter Hummin, a friend of mine and my protector on this 
+planet.” 
+
+“Your protector.” Rashelle laughed madly. “You fool! You idiot! That man is 
+Demerzel and if you look at your Venabili woman, you will see from her face that she is 
+perfectly aware of that. You have been trapped all along, far worse than ever you were 
+with me!” 
+
+90 . 
+
+Hummin and Seldon sat at lunch that day, quite alone, a pall of quiet between 
+them for the most part. It was toward the end of the meal that Seldon stirred and said in a 
+lively voice, “Well, sir, how do I address you? I think of you as ‘Chetter Hummin’ still, 
+but even if I accept you in your other persona, I surely cannot address you as ‘Eto 
+Demerzel.’ In that capacity, you have a title and I don’t know the proper usage. Instruct 
+me.” 
+
+The other said gravely, “Call me 'Hummin’-if you don’t mind. Or ‘Chetter.’ Yes, 
+
+I am Eto Demerzel, but with respect to you I am Hummin. As a matter of fact, the two are 
+not distinct. I told you that the Empire is decaying and failing. I believe that to be true in 
+both my capacities. I told you that I wanted psychohistory as a way of preventing that 
+
+
+
+decay and failure or of bringing about a renewal and reinvigoration if the decay and 
+failure must run its course. I believe that in both my capacities too.” 
+
+“But you had me in your grip-I presume you were in the vicinity when I Gad my 
+meeting with His Imperial Majesty.” 
+
+“With Cleon. Yes, of course.” 
+
+“And you might have spoken to me, then, exactly as you later did as Hummin.” 
+
+“And accomplished what? As Demerzel, I have enormous tasks. I have to handle 
+Cleon, a well-meaning but not very capable ruler, and prevent him, insofar as I can, from 
+making mistakes. I have to do my bit in governing Trantor and the Empire coo. And, as 
+you see, I had to spend a great deal of time in preventing Wye from doing harm.” 
+
+“Yes, I know, “ murmured Seldon. 
+
+“It wasn’t easy and I nearly lost out. I have spent years sparring carefully with 
+Mannix, learning to understand his chinking and planning a countermove to his every 
+move. I did not think, at any time, that while he was still alive he would pass on his 
+powers to his daughter. I had not studied her and I was not prepared for her utter lack of 
+caution. Unlike her father, she has been brought up to take power for granted and had no 
+clear idea of its limitations. So she got you and forced me to act before I was quite 
+ready.” 
+
+“You almost lost me as a result. I faced the muzzle of a blaster twice.’. 
+
+“I know, “ said Hummin, nodding. “And we might have lost you Upperside coo- 
+another accident I could not foresee.” 
+
+“But you haven’t really answered my question. Why did you send me chasing all 
+over the face of Trantor to escape from Demerzel when you yourself were Demerzel?” 
+
+“You told Cleon that psychohistory was a purely theoretical concept, a kind of 
+mathematical game that made no practical sense. That might indeed have been so, but if I 
+approached you officially, I was sure you would merely have maintained your belief. Yet 
+I was attracted to the notion of psychohistory. I wondered whether it might not be, after 
+all, just a game. You must understand that I didn’t want merely to use you, I wanted a 
+real and practical psychohistory. 
+
+“So I sent you, as you put it, chasing all over the face of Trantor with the dreaded 
+Demerzel close on your heels at all times. That, I felt, would concentrate your mind 
+powerfully. It would make psychohistory something exciting and much more than a 
+mathematical game. You would try to work it our for the sincere idealist Hummin, where 
+you would not for the Imperial flunky Demerzel. Also, you would get a glimpse of 
+various sides of Trantor and that too would be helpful-certainly more helpful than living 
+in an ivory tower on a far-off planet, surrounded entirely by fellow mathematicians. Was 
+I right? Have you made progress?” 
+
+Seldon said, “In psychohistory? Yes, I did, Hummin. I thought you knew.” 
+
+“How should I know?” 
+
+“I told Dors.” 
+
+“But you hadn’t told me. Nevertheless, you tell me so now. That is good news.” 
+
+“Not entirely, “ said Seldon. “I have made only the barest beginning. But it is a 
+beginning.” 
+
+“Is it the kind of beginning that can be explained to a nonmathematician?” 
+
+“I think so. You see, Hummin, from the start I have seen psychohistory as a 
+science that depends on the interaction of twentyfive million worlds, each with an 
+
+
+
+average population of four thousand million. It’s too much. There’s no way of handling 
+something that complex. If d was to succeed at all, if there was to be any way of finding a 
+useful psychohistory, I would first have to find a simpler system. 
+
+“So I thought I would go back in time and deal with a single world, a world that 
+was the only one occupied by humanity in the dim age before the colonization of the 
+Galaxy. In Mycogen they spoke of an original world of Aurora and in Dahl I heard word 
+of an original world of Earth. I thought they might be the same world under different 
+names, but they were sufficiently different in one key point, at least, to make that 
+impossible. And it didn’t matter. So little was known of either one, and that little so 
+obscured by myth and legend, that there was no hope of making use of psychohistory in 
+connection with them.” 
+
+He paused to sip at his cold juice, keeping his eyes firmly on Hummin’s face. 
+
+Hummin said, “Well? What then?” 
+
+“Meanwhile, Dors had told me something I call the hand-on-thigh story. It was of 
+no innate significance, merely a humorous and entirely trivial tale. As a result, though, 
+Dors mentioned the different sex mores on various worlds and in various sectors of 
+Trantor. It occurred to me that she treated the different Trantorian sectors as though they 
+were separate worlds. I thought, idly, that instead of twenty-five million different worlds, 
+I had twenty-five million plus eight hundred to deal with. It seemed a trivial difference, 
+so I forgot it and thought no more about it. 
+
+“But as I traveled from the Imperial Sector to Streeling to Mycogen to Dahl to 
+Wye, I observed for myself how different each was. The thought of Trantor-not as a 
+world but as a complex of worlds-grew stronger, but still I didn’t see the crucial point. 
+
+“It was only when I listened to Rashelle— you see, it was good that I was finally 
+captured by Wye and it was good that Rashelle ’s rashness drove her into the grandiose 
+schemes that she imparted to me-When I listened to Rashelle, as I said, she told me that 
+all she wanted was Trantor and some immediately adjacent worlds. It was an Empire in 
+itself, she said, and dismissed the outer worlds as ‘distant nothings.’ 
+
+“It was then that, in a moment, I saw what I must have been harboring in my 
+hidden thoughts for a considerable time. On the one hand, Trantor possessed an 
+extraordinarily complex social system, being a populous world made up of eight hundred 
+smaller worlds. It was in itself a system complex enough to make psychohistory 
+meaningful and yet it was simple enough, compared to the Empire as a whole, to make 
+psychohistory perhaps practical. 
+
+“And the Outer Worlds, the twenty-five million of them? They were ‘distant 
+nothings.’ Of course, they affected Trantor and were affected by Trantor, but these were 
+second-order effects. If I could make psychohistory work as a first approximation for 
+Trantor alone, then the minor effects of the Outer Worlds could be added as later 
+modifications. Do you see what I mean? I was searching for a single world on which to 
+establish a practical science of psychohistory and I was searching for it in the far past, 
+when all the time the single world I wanted was under my feet now, “ 
+
+Hummin said with obvious relief and pleasure, “Wonderful!” 
+
+“But it’s all left to do, Hummin. I must study Trantor in sufficient detail. I must 
+devise the necessary mathematics to deal with it. If I am lucky and live out a full lifetime, 
+I may have the answers before I die. If not, my successors will have to follow me. 
+Conceivably, the Empire may have fallen and splintered before psychohistory becomes a 
+
+
+
+useful technique.” 
+
+“I will do everything I can to help you.” 
+
+“I know it, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“You trust me, then, despite the fact I am Demerzel?” 
+
+“Entirely. Absolutely. But I do so because you are not Demerzel.” 
+
+“But I am, “ insisted Hummin. 
+
+“But you are not. Your persona as Demerzel is as far removed from the truth as is 
+your persona as Hummin.” 
+
+“What do you mean?” Hummin’ s eyes grew wide and he backed away slightly 
+from Seldon. 
+
+“I mean that you probably chose the name ‘Hummin’ out of a wry sense of what 
+was fitting. ‘Hummin’ is a mispronunciation of ‘human, ‘ isn’t it?” 
+
+Hummin made no response. He continued to stare at Seldon. 
+
+And finally Seldon said, “Because you’re not human, are you, 
+‘Hummin/Demerzel’? You’re a robot.” 
+
+Dors 
+
+
+SELDON, HARI- ... It is customary to think of Hari Seldon only in connection 
+with psychohistory, to see him only as mathematics and social change personified. There 
+is no doubt that he himself encouraged this for at no time in his formal writings did he 
+give any hint as to how he came to solve the various problems of psychohistory. His 
+leaps of thought might have all been plucked from air, for all he tells us. Nor does he tell 
+us of the blind alleys into which he crept or the wrong turnings he may have made . 
+
+... As for his private life, it is a blank. Concerning his parents and siblings, we 
+know a handful of factors, no more. His only son, Raych Seldon, is known to have been 
+adopted, but how that came about is not known. Concerning his wife, we only know that 
+she existed. Clearly, Seldon wanted to be a cipher except where psychohistory was 
+concerned. It is as though he felt— or wanted it to be felt-that he did not live, he merely 
+psychohistorified. 
+
+ENCYCLOPEDIA GALACTICA 
+
+
+91 . 
+
+Hummin sat calmly, not a muscle twitching, still looking at Hari Seldon and 
+Seldon, for his part, waited. It was Hummin, he thought, who should speak next. 
+
+Hummin did, but said merely, “A robot? Me? -By robot, I presume you mean an 
+artificial being such as the object you saw in the Sacratorium in Mycogen.” 
+
+“Not quite like that, “ said Seldon. 
+
+“Not metal? Not burnished? Not a lifeless simulacrum?” Hummin said it without 
+any evidence of amusement. 
+
+“No. To be of artificial life is not necessarily to be made of metal. I speak of a 
+robot indistinguishable from a human being in appearance.’. 
+
+“If indistinguishable, Hari, then how do you distinguish?” 
+
+“Not by appearance. “ 
+
+“Explain.” 
+
+
+
+“Hummin, in the course of my flight from yourself as Demerzel, I heard of two 
+ancient worlds, as I told you- Aurora and Earth. Each seemed to be spoken of as a first 
+world or an only world. In both cases, robots were spoken of, but with a difference.” 
+
+Seldon was staring thoughtfully at the man across the table, wondering if, in any 
+way, he would give some sign that he was less than a man— or more. He said, “Where 
+Aurora was in question, one robot was spoken of as a renegade, a traitor, someone who 
+deserted the cause. Where Earth was in question, one robot was spoken of as a hero, one 
+who represented salvation. Was it too much to suppose that it was the same robot?” 
+
+“Was it?” murmured Hummin. 
+
+“This is what I thought, Hummin. I thought that Earth and Aurora were two 
+separate worlds, co-existing in time. I don’t know which one preceded the other. From 
+the arrogance and the conscious sense of superiority of the Mycogenians, I might suppose 
+that Aurora was the original world and that they despised the Earthmen who derived from 
+them— or who degenerated from them. 
+
+“On the other hand, Mother Rittah, who spoke to me of Earth, was convinced that 
+Earth was the original home of humanity and, certainly, the tiny and isolated position of 
+the Mycogenians in a whole galaxy of quadrillions of people who lack the strange 
+Mycogenian ethos might mean that Earth was indeed the original home and that Aurora 
+was the aberrant offshoot. I cannot tell, but I pass on to you my thinking, so that you will 
+understand my final conclusions.” 
+
+Hummin nodded. “I see what you are doing. Please continue.” 
+
+“The worlds were enemies. Mother Rittah certainly made it sound so. When I 
+compare the Mycogenians, who seem to embody Aurora, and the Dahlites, who seem to 
+embody Earth, I imagine that Aurora, whether first or second, was nevertheless the one 
+that was more advanced, the one that could produce more elaborate robots, even ones 
+indistinguishable from human beings in appearance. Such a robot was designed and 
+devised in Aurora, then. But he was a renegade, so he deserted Aurora. To the 
+Earthpeople he was a hero, so he must have joined Earth. Why he did this, what his 
+motives were, I can’t say.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Surely, you mean why it did this, what its motives were.” 
+
+“Perhaps, but with you sitting across from me, “ said Seldon, “I find it difficult to 
+use the inanimate pronoun. Mother Rittah was convinced that the heroic robot-her heroic 
+robot-still existed, that he would return when he was needed. It seemed to me that there 
+was nothing impossible in the thought of an immortal robot or at least one who was 
+immortal as long as the replacement of worn-out parts was not neglected.” 
+
+“Even the brain?” asked Hummin. 
+
+“Even the brain. I don’t really know anything about robots, but I imagine a new 
+brain could be re-recorded from the old. —and Mother Rittah hinted of strange mental 
+powers. -I thought: It must be so. I may, in some ways, be a romantic, but I am not so 
+much a romantic as to think that one robot, by switching from one side to the other, can 
+alter the course of history. A robot could not make Earth’s victory sure, nor Aurora’s 
+defeat certain-unless there was something strange, something peculiar about the robot.” 
+
+Hummin said, “Does it occur to you, Hari, that you are dealing with legends, 
+legends that may have been distorted over the centuries and the millennia, even to the 
+extent of building a veil of the supernatural over quire ordinary events? Can you make 
+yourself believe in a robot that not only seems human, but that also lives forever and has 
+
+
+
+mental powers? Are you not beginning to believe in the superhuman?” 
+
+“I know very well what legends are and I am not one to be taken in by them and 
+made to believe in fairy tales. Still, when they are supported by certain odd events that I 
+have seen— and even experienced myself—” 
+
+“Such as?” 
+
+“Hummin, I met you and trusted you from the start. Yes, you helped me against 
+those two hoodlums when you didn’t need to and that predisposed me in your favor, since 
+I didn’t realize at the time that they were your hirelings, doing what you had instructed 
+them to do. —but never mind that.” 
+
+“No, “ said Hummin, a hint of amusement-finally-in his voice. 
+
+“I trusted you. I was easily convinced not to go home to Helicon and to make 
+myself a wanderer over the face of Trantor. I believed everything you told me without 
+question. I placed myself entirely in your hands. Looking back on it now, I see myself as 
+not myself. I am not a person to be so easily led, yet I was. More than that, I did not even 
+think it strange that I was behaving so far out of character.” 
+
+“You know yourself best, Hari, “ 
+
+“It wasn’t only me. How is it that Dors Venabili, a beautiful woman with a career 
+of her own, should abandon that career in order to join me in my flight? How is it that she 
+should risk her life to save mine, seeming to take on, as a kind of holy duty, the cask of 
+protecting me and becoming single-minded in the process? Was it simply because you 
+asked her to?” 
+
+“I did ask her to, Hari.” 
+
+“Yet she does not strike me as the kind of person to make such a radical 
+changeover in her life merely because someone asks her to. Nor could I believe it was 
+because she had fallen madly in love with me at first sight and could not help herself. I 
+somehow wish she had, but she seems quite the mistress of her emotional self, more-I am 
+now speaking to you frankly-than I myself am with respect to her.” 
+
+“She is a wonderful woman, “ said Hummin. “I don’t blame you.” 
+
+Seldon went on. “How is it, moreover, that Sunmaster Fourteen, a monster of 
+arrogance and one who leads a people who are themselves stiff-necked in their own 
+conceit, should be willing to take in tribespeople like Dors and myself and to treat us as 
+well as the Mycogenians could and did? When we broke every rule, committed every 
+sacrilege, how is it that you could still talk him into letting us go? 
+
+“How could you talk the Tisalvers, with their petty prejudices, into taking us in? 
+How can you be at home everywhere in the world, be friends with everyone, influence 
+each person, regardless of their individual peculiarities? For that matter, how do you 
+manage to manipulate Cleon too? And if he is viewed as malleable and easily molded, 
+then how were you able to handle his father, who by all accounts was a rough and 
+arbitrary tyrant? How could you do all this? 
+
+“Most of all, how is it that Mannix IV of Wye could spend decades building an 
+army without peer, one trained to be proficient in every detail, and yet have it fall apart 
+when his daughter tries to make use of it? How could you persuade them to play the 
+Renegade, all of them, as you have done?” 
+
+Hummin said, “Might this mean no more than that I am a tactful person used to 
+dealing with people of different types, that I am in a position to have done favors for 
+crucial people and am in a position to do additional favors in the future? Nothing I have 
+
+
+
+done, it might seem, requires the supernatural.” 
+
+“Nothing you have done? Not even the neutralization of the Wyan army?” 
+
+“They did not wish to serve a woman.” 
+
+“They must have known for years that any time Mannix laid down his powers or 
+any time he died, Rashelle would be their Mayor, yet they showed no signs of discontent- 
+until you felt it necessary that they show it. Dors described you at one time as a very 
+persuasive man. And so you are. More persuasive than any man could be. But you are not 
+more persuasive than an immortal robot with strange mental powers might be. -Well, 
+Hummin?” 
+
+Hummin said, “What is it you expect of me, Hari? Do you expect me to admit I’m 
+a robot? That I only look like a human being? That I am immortal? That I am a mental 
+marvel?!” 
+
+Seldon leaned toward Hummin as he sat there on the opposite side of the table. 
+“Yes, Hummin, I do. I expect you to tell me the truth and I strongly suspect that what you 
+have just outlined is the truth. You, Hummin, are the robot that Mother Rittah referred to 
+as DaNee, friend of Ba-Lee. You must admit it. You have no choice.” 
+
+92 . 
+
+It was as though they were sitting in a tiny Universe of their own. There, in the 
+middle of Wye, with the Wyan army being disarmed by Imperial force, they sat quietly. 
+There, in the midst of events that all of Trantor and perhaps all the Galaxy-was watching, 
+there was this small bubble of utter isolation within which Seldon and Hummin were 
+playing their game of attack and defense-Seldon trying hard to force a new reality, 
+Hummin making no move to accept that new reality. 
+
+Seldon had no fear of interruption. He was certain that the bubble within which 
+they sat had a boundary that could not be penetrated, that Hummin’ s-no, the robot’ s- 
+powers would keep all at a distance rill the game was over. 
+
+Hummin finally said, “You are an ingenious fellow, Hari, but I fail to see why I 
+must admit that I am a robot and why I have no choice but to do so. Everything you say 
+may be true as facts-your own behavior, Dors’s behavior, Sunmaster’s, Tisalver’s, the 
+Wyan generals’ -all, all may have happened as you said, but that doesn’t force your 
+interpretation of the meaning of the events to be true. Surely, everything that happened 
+can have a natural explanation. You trusted me because you accepted what I said; Dors 
+felt your safety to be important because she felt psychohistory to be crucial, herself being 
+a historian; Sunmaster and Tisalver were beholden to me for favors you know nothing of, 
+the Wyan generals resented being ruled by a woman, no more. Why must we flee to the 
+supernatural?” 
+
+Seldon said, “See here, Hummin, do you really believe the Empire to be falling 
+and do you really consider it important that it not be allowed to do so with no move made 
+to save it or, at the least, cushion its fall?” 
+
+“I really do.” Somehow Seldon knew this statement was sincere. “And you really 
+want me to work out the details of psychohistory and you feel that you yourself cannot do 
+it?” 
+
+“I lack the capability.” 
+
+“And you feel that only I can handle psychohistory-even if I sometimes doubt it 
+
+
+
+myself?” 
+
+“Yes.” 
+
+“And you must therefore feel that if you can possibly help me in any way, you 
+
+must.” 
+
+“I do.” 
+
+“Personal feelings-selfish considerations-could play no part?” 
+
+A faint and brief smile passed over Hummin’s grave face and for a moment 
+Seldon sensed a vast and arid desert of weariness behind Hummin’s quiet manner. “I 
+have built a long career on paying no heed to personal feelings or to selfish 
+considerations.” 
+
+“Then I ask your help. I can work out psychohistory on the basis of Trantor alone, 
+but I will run into difficulties. Those difficulties I may overcome, but how much easier it 
+would be to do so if I knew certain key facts. For instance, was Earth or Aurora the first 
+world of humanity or was it some other world altogether? What was the relationship 
+between Earth and Aurora? Did either or both colonize the Galaxy? If one, why didn’t the 
+other? If both, how was the issue decided? Are there worlds descended from both or from 
+only one? How did robots come to be abandoned? How did Trantor become the Imperial 
+world, rather than another planet? What happened to Aurora and Earth in the meantime? 
+There are a thousand questions I might ask right now and a hundred thousand that might 
+arise as I go along. Would you allow me to remain ignorant, Hummin, and fail in my task 
+when you could inform me and help me succeed?” 
+
+Hummin said, “If I were the robot, would I have room in my brain for all of 
+twenty thousand years of history for millions of different worlds?” 
+
+“I don’t know the capacity of robotic brains. I don’t know the capacity of yours. 
+But if you lack the capacity, then you must have that information which you cannot hold 
+safely recorded in a place and in a way that would make it possible for you to call upon it. 
+And if you have it and I need information, how can you deny and withhold it from me? 
+And if you cannot withhold it from me, how can you deny that you are a robot-that robot 
+the Renegade?” 
+
+Seldon sat back and took a deep breath. “So I ask you again: Are you that robot? 
+
+If you want psychohistory, then you must admit it. If you still deny you are a robot and if 
+you convince me you are not, then my chances at psychohistory become much, much 
+smaller. It is up to you, then. Are you a robot? Are you Da-Nee?” 
+
+And Hummin said, as imperturbable as ever. “Your arguments are irrefutable. I 
+am R. Daneel Olivaw. The 'R’ stands for ‘robot.’ “ 
+
+93 . 
+
+R. Daneel Olivaw still spoke quiedy, but it seemed to Seldon that there was a 
+subtle change in his voice, as though he spoke more easily now that he was no longer 
+playing a part. 
+
+“In twenty thousand years, “ said Daneel, “no one has guessed I was a robot when 
+it was not my intention to have him or her know. In part, that was because human beings 
+abandoned robots so long ago that very few remember that they even existed at one time. 
+And in part, it is because I do have the ability to detect and affect human emotion. The 
+detection offers no trouble, but to affect emotion is difficult for me for reasons having to 
+do with my robotic nature-although I can do it when I wish. I have the ability but must 
+deal with my will not to use it. I try never to interfere except when I have no choice but to 
+
+
+
+do so. And when I do interfere, it is rarely that I do more than strengthen, as little as I 
+can, what is already there. If I can achieve my purposes without doing even so much, I 
+avoid it. 
+
+“It was not necessary to tamper with Sunmaster Fourteen in order to have him 
+accept you-I call it ‘tampering, ‘ you notice, because it is not a pleasant thing to do. I did 
+not have to tamper with him because he did owe me for favors rendered and he is an 
+honorable man, despite the peculiarities you found in him. I did interfere the second time, 
+when you had committed sacrilege in his eyes, but it took very little. He was not anxious 
+to hand you over to the Imperial authorities, whom he does not like. I merely 
+strengthened the dislike a trifle and he handed you over to my care, accepting the 
+arguments I offered, which otherwise he might have considered specious. 
+
+“Nor did I tamper with you noticeably. You distrusted the Imperials too. Most 
+human beings do these days, which is an important factor in the decay and deterioration 
+of the Empire. What’s more, you were proud of psychohistory as a concept, proud of 
+having thought of it. You would not have minded having it prove to be a practical 
+discipline. That would have further fed your pride.” 
+
+Seldon frowned and said, “Pardon me, Master Robot, but I am not aware that I am 
+quite such a monster of pride.” 
+
+Daneel said mildly, “You are not a monster of pride at all. You are perfectly 
+aware that is neither admirable nor useful to be driven by pride, so you try to subdue that 
+drive, but you might as well disapprove of having yourself powered by your heartbeat. 
+You cannot help either fact. Though you hide your pride from yourself for the sake of 
+your own peace of mind, you cannot hide it from me. It is there, however carefully you 
+mask it over. And I had but to strengthen it a touch and you were at once willing to take 
+measures to hide from Demerzel, measures that a moment before you would have 
+resisted. And you were eager to work at psychohistory with an intensity that a moment 
+before you would have scorned. 
+
+“I saw no necessity to touch anything else and so you have reasoned out your 
+robothood. Had I foreseen the possibility of that, I might have stopped it, but my 
+foresight and my abilities are not infinite. Nor am I sorry now that I failed, for your 
+arguments are good ones and it is important that you know who I am and that I use what I 
+am to help you. 
+
+“Emotions, my dear Seldom are a powerful engine of human action, far more 
+powerful than human beings themselves realize, and you cannot know how much can be 
+dome with the merest touch and how reluctant I am to do it.” 
+
+Seldon was breathing heavily, trying to see himself as a man driven by pride and 
+not liking it. “Why reluctant?” 
+
+“Because it would be so easy to overdo. I had to stop Rashelle from converting 
+the Empire into a feudal anarchy. I might have bent minds quickly and the result might 
+well have been a bloody uprising. Men are men— and the Wyan generals are almost all 
+men. It does not actually take much to rouse resentment and latent fear of women in any 
+man. It may be a biological matter that I, as a robot, cannot fully understand. 
+
+“I had but to strengthen the feeling to produce a breakdown in her plans. If I had 
+done it the merest millimeter too much, I would have lost what I wanted-a bloodless 
+takeover. I wanted nothing more than to have them not resist when my soldiers arrived.” 
+
+Daneel paused, as though trying to pick his words, then said, “I do not wish to go 
+
+
+
+into the mathematics of my positronic brain. It is more than I can understand, though 
+perhaps not more than you can if you give it enough thought. However, I am governed by 
+the Three Laws of Robotics that are traditionally put into words— or once were, long ago. 
+They are these: 
+
+“‘One. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human 
+being to come to harm. 
+
+“ 'Two. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings, except where 
+such orders would conflict with the First Law. 
+
+“ ‘Three. A robot must protect its own existence, as long as such protection does 
+not conflict with the First or Second Law.’ 
+
+“But I had a ... a friend twenty thousand years ago. Another robot. Not like 
+myself. He could not be mistaken for a human being, but it was he who had the mental 
+powers and it was through him that I gained mine. 
+
+“It seemed to him that there should be a still more general rule than any of the 
+Three Laws. He called it the Zeroth Law, since zero comes before one. It is: 
+
+“‘Zero. A robot may not injure humanity or, through inaction, allow humanity to 
+come to harm.’ 
+
+“Then the First Law must read: 
+
+“ 'One. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a 
+human being to come to harm, except where that would conflict with the Zeroth Law.’ 
+
+“And the other laws must be similarly modified. Do you understand?” 
+
+Daneel paused earnestly and Seldon said, “I understand.” 
+
+Daneel went on. “The trouble is, Hari, that a human being is easy to identify. I can 
+point to one. It is easy to see what will harm a human being and what won’t-relatively 
+easy, at least. But what is humanity? To what can we point when we speak of humanity? 
+And how can we define harm to humanity? When will a course of action do more good 
+than harm to humanity as a whole and how can one tell? The robot who first advanced 
+the Zeroth law died-became permanently inactive-because he was forced into an action 
+that he felt would save humanity, yet which he could not be cure would save humanity. 
+And as he became inactivated, he left the care of the Galaxy to me. 
+
+“Since then, I have cried. I have interfered as little as possible, relying on human 
+beings themselves to judge what was for the good. They could gamble; I could not. They 
+could miss their goals; I did not dare. They could do harm unwittingly; I would grow 
+inactive if I did. The Zeroth Law makes no allowance for unwitting harm. 
+
+“But at times I am forced to take action. That I am still functioning shows that my 
+actions have been moderate and discreet. However, as the Empire began to fail and to 
+decline, I have had to interfere more frequently and for decades now I have had to play 
+the role of Demerzel, trying to run the government in such a way as to stave off ruin— and 
+yet I will function, you see. 
+
+“When you made your speech to the Decennial Convention, I realized at once that 
+in psychohistory there was a tool that might make it possible to identify what was good 
+and bad for humanity. With it, the decisions we would make would be less blind. I would 
+even trust to human beings to make those decisions and again reserve myself only for the 
+greatest emergencies. So I arranged quickly to have Cleon learn of your speech and call 
+you in. Then, when I heard your denial of the worth of psychohistory, I was forced to 
+think of some way to make you try anyway. Do you understand, Hari?” 
+
+
+
+More than a little daunted, Seldon said, “I understand, Hummin.” 
+
+“To you, I must remain Hummin on those rare occasions when I will be able to 
+see you. I will give you what information I have if it is something you need and in my 
+persona as Demerzel I will protect you as much as I can. As Daneel, you must never 
+speak of me.” 
+
+“I wouldn’t want to, “ said Seldon hurriedly. “Since I need your help, it would 
+min matters to have your plans impeded.” 
+
+“Yes, I know you wouldn’t want to.” Daneel smiled wearily. “After all, you are 
+vain enough to want full credit for psychohistory. You would not want anyone to know- 
+ever-that you needed the help of a robot.” 
+
+Seldon flushed. “I am not—” 
+
+“But you are, even if you carefully hide it from yourself. And it is important, for I 
+am strengthening that emotion within you minimally so that you will never be able to 
+speak of me to others. It will not even occur to you that you might do so.” 
+
+Seldon said, “I suspect Dors knows—” 
+
+“She knows of me. And she too cannot speak of me to others. Now that you both 
+know of my nature, you can speak of me to each other freely, but not to anyone else.” 
+
+Daneel rose. -Hari, I have my work to do now. Before long, you and Dors will be 
+taken back to the Imperial Sector—” 
+
+“The boy Raych must come with me. I cannot abandon him. And there is a young 
+Dahlite named Yugo Amaryl— ” 
+
+“I understand. Raych will be taken too and you can do with any friend as you will. 
+You will all be taken care of appropriately. And you will work on psychohistory. You 
+will have a staff. You will have the necessary computers and reference material. I will 
+interfere as little as possible and if there is resistance to your views that does not actually 
+reach the point of endangering the mission, then you will have to deal with it yourself.” 
+
+“Wait, Hummin, “ said Seldon urgently. “What if, despite all your help and all my 
+endeavors, it turns out that psychohistory cannot be made into a practical device after all? 
+What if I fail?” 
+
+Daneel rose. “In that case, I have a second plan in hand. One I have been working 
+on a long time on a separate world in a separate way. It too is very difficult and to some 
+ways even more radical than psychohistory. It may fail too, but there is a greater chance 
+of success if two roads are open than if either one alone was. 
+
+“Take my advice, Hari! If the time comes when you are able to set up some 
+device that may act to prevent the worst from happening see if you can think of two 
+devices, so that if one fails, the other will carry on. The Empire must be steadied or 
+rebuilt on a new foundation. Let there be two such, rather than one, if that is possible.” 
+
+He rose, “Now I must return to my ordinary work and you must turn to yours. 
+
+You will be taken care of.” 
+
+With one final nod, he rose and left. 
+
+Seldon looked after him and said softly, “First I must speak to Dors.” 
+
+94 . 
+
+Dors said, “The palace is cleared. Rashelle will not be physically harmed. And 
+you’ll return to the Imperial Sector, Hari.” 
+
+
+
+“And you, Dors?” said Seldon in a low tight voice. 
+
+“I presume I will go back to the University, “ she said. “My work is being 
+neglected, my classes abandoned.” 
+
+“No, Dors, you have a greater cask.” 
+
+“What is that?” 
+
+“Psychohistory. I cannot tackle the project without you.” 
+
+“Of course you can. I am a total illiterate in mathematics.” 
+
+“And I in history— and we need both.” 
+
+Dors laughed. “I suspect that, as a mathematician, you are one of a kind. I, as a 
+historian, am merely adequate, certainly not outstanding. You will find any number of 
+historians who will suit the needs of psychohistory better than I do.” 
+
+“In that case, Dors, let me explain that psychohistory needs more than a 
+mathematician and a historian. It also needs the will to tackle what will probably be a 
+lifetime problem. Without you, Dors, I will not have that will.” 
+
+“Of course you’ll have it.” 
+
+“Dors, if you’re not with me, I don’t intend to have it.” 
+
+Dors looked at Seldon thoughtfully. “This is a fruitless discussion, Hari. 
+Undoubtedly, Hummin will make the decision. If he sends me hack to the University 
+
+“He won’t.” 
+
+“How can you be sure?” 
+
+“Because I’ll put it to him plainly. If he sends you back to the University, I’ll go 
+back to Helicon and the Empire can go ahead and destroy itself.” 
+
+“You can’t mean it.” 
+
+“But I certainly do.” 
+
+“Don’t you realize that Hummin can arrange to have your feelings change so that 
+you will work on psychohistory— even without me?” 
+
+Seldon shook his head. “Hummin will not make such an arbitrary decision. I’ve 
+spoken to him. He dares not do much to the human mind because he is bound by what he 
+calls the Laws of Robotics. To change my mind to the point where I will not want you 
+with me, Dors, would mean a change of the kind he can not risk. On the other hand, if he 
+leaves me alone and if you join me in the project, he will have what he wants-a true 
+chance at psychohistory. Why should he not settle for that?” 
+
+Dors shook her head. “He may not agree for reasons of his own.’. 
+
+“Why should he disagree? You were asked to protect me, Dors. Has Hummin 
+cancelled that request?” 
+
+“No.” 
+
+“Then he wants you to continue your protection. And I want your protection.” 
+
+“Against what? You now have Hummin’ s protection, both as Demerzel and as 
+Daneel, and surely that is all you need.” 
+
+“If I had the protection of every person and every force in the Galaxy, it would 
+still be yours I would want.” 
+
+“Then you don’t want me for psychohistory. You want me for protection.” 
+
+Seldon scowled. “No! Why are you twisting my words? Why are you forcing me 
+to say what you must know? It is neither psychohistory nor protection I want you for. 
+Those are excuses and I’ll use any other I need. I want you-just you. And if you want the 
+real reason, it is because you are you.” 
+
+
+
+“You don’t even know me.” 
+
+“That doesn’t matter. I don’t care, —and yet I do know you in a way. Better than 
+you think.” 
+
+“Do you indeed?” 
+
+“Of course. You follow orders and you risk your life for without hesitation and 
+with no apparent care for the consequences You learned how to play tennis so quickly. 
+You learned how to use knives even more quickly and you handled yourself perfectly in 
+the fight with Marron. Inhumanly -if I may say so. Your muscles are amazingly strong 
+and your reaction time is amazingly fast. You can somehow tell when a room is being 
+eavesdropped and you can be in touch with Hummin in some way that does not involve 
+instrumentation.” 
+
+Dors said, “And what do you think of all that?” 
+
+“It has occurred to me that Hummin, in his persona as R. Daneel Olivaw, has an 
+impossible task. How can one robot try to guide the Empire? He must have helpers.” 
+
+“That is obvious. Millions, I should imagine. I am a helper. You are a helper. 
+
+Little Raych is a helper.” 
+
+“You are a different kind of helper.” 
+
+“In what way? Hari, say it. If you hear yourself say it, you will realize how crazy 
+
+it is.” 
+
+Seldon looked long at her and then said in a low voice, “I will not say it because . 
+
+. . I don’t care. “ 
+
+“You really don’t? You wish to take me as I am?” 
+
+“I will take you as I must. You are Dors and, whatever else you are, in all the 
+world I want nothing else.” 
+
+Dors said softly, “Hari, I want what is good for you because of what I am, but I 
+feel that if I wasn’t what I am, I would still want what is good for you. And I don’t think I 
+am good for you.” 
+
+“Good for me or bad, I don’t care.” Here Hari looked down as he paced a few 
+steps, weighing what he would say next. “Dors, have you ever been kissed?” 
+
+“Of course, Hari. It’s a social part of life and I live socially.” 
+
+“No no! I mean, have you ever really kissed a man? You know, passionately?” 
+
+“Well yes, Hari, I have.” 
+
+“Did you enjoy it?” 
+
+Dors hesitated. She said, “When I’ve kissed in that way, I enjoyed it more than I 
+would have enjoyed disappointing a young man I liked, someone whose friendship meant 
+something to me.” At this point, Dors blushed and she turned her face away. “Please, 
+
+Hari, this is difficult for me to explain.” 
+
+But Hari, more determined now than ever, pressed further. “So you kissed for the 
+wrong reasons, then, to avoid hurt feelings.” 
+
+“Perhaps everyone does, in a sense.” 
+
+Seldon mulled this over, then said suddenly, “Did you ever ask to be kissed?” 
+
+Dors paused, as though looking back on her life. “No.” 
+
+“Or wish to be kissed again, once you had?” 
+
+“No.” 
+
+“Have you ever slept with a man?” he asked softly, desperately. 
+
+“Of course. I told you. These things are a part of life.” 
+
+
+
+Hari gripped her shoulders as if he was going to shake her. “But have you ever 
+felt the desire, a need for that kind of closeness with just one special person? Dors, have 
+you ever felt love.” 
+
+Dors looked up slowly, almost sadly, and locked eyes with Seldon. “I’m sorry, 
+Hari, but no.” 
+
+Seldon released her, letting his arms fall dejectedly to his sides. 
+
+Then Dors placed her hand gently on his arm and said, “So you see, Hari. I’m not 
+really what you want.” 
+
+Seldon’s head drooped and he stared at the floor. He weighed the matter and tried 
+to think rationally. Then he gave up. He wanted what he wanted and he wanted it beyond 
+thought and beyond rationality. 
+
+He looked up. “Dors, dear, even so, I don’t care.” 
+
+Seldon put his arms around her and brought his head close to hers slowly, as 
+though waiting for her to pull away, all the while drawing her nearer. 
+
+Dors made no move and he kissed her-slowly, lingeringly, and then passionately— 
+and her arms suddenly tightened around him. 
+
+When he stopped at last, she looked at him with eyes that mirrored her smile and 
+she said: 
+
+“Kiss me again, Hari, -Please.” 
+
+— End —