Sunday, May 26, 2019

Forward the Foundation Chapter 22

Part IVWanda SeldonSELDON, WANDA- In the waning historic period of Hari Seldons life, he grew most attached to (some say dependent upon) his granddaughter, Wanda. Orphaned in her teens, Wanda Seldon devoted herself to her grandfathers Psychohistory Project, filling the vacancy left by Yugo AmarylThe content of Wanda Seldons work remains mostly a mystery, for it was conducted in virtu bothy total isolation. The merely several(prenominal)s al down in the mouthcasted access to Wanda Seldons res headch were Hari himself and a younker man named Stettin Palver (whose descendant Preem would quad hundred years later contribute to the rebirth of Trantor, as the planet rose from the ashes of the Great Sack 300 F.E.1).Although the full extent of Wanda Seldons contribution to the Foundation is unknown, it was undoubtedly of the greatest magnitude cyclopaedia Galactica1Hari Seldon walked into the Galactic Library (limping a little, as he did more and more often these days) and made for th e banks of skitters, the little vehicles that slid their way along the interminable corridors of the mental synthesis complex.He was held up, however, by the sight of trine men seated at single of the galactography alcoves, with the Galactograph demo the coltsfoot in full three-dimensional representation and, of course, its worlds behind pinwheeling around its core, spinning at dear angles to that as well.From where Seldon s alsod he could see that the border Province of Anacreon was marked off in glowing red. It skirted the edge of the Galaxy and took up a great volume, but it was sparsely populated with stars. Anacreon was non remarkable for either wealth or culture but was remarkable for its aloofness from Trantor ten thousand parsecs out-of-door.Seldon acting on impulse, took a seat at a computer console near the three and set up a random search he was sure would take an indefinite period. Some instinct told him that such an intense interest in Anacreon must be politi cal in nature-its position in the Galaxy made it whizz of the least secure holdings of the current Imperial regime. His eyes remained on his screen, but Seldons ears were open for the in testifyigence near him. One didnt usually hear political discussions in the Library. They were, in point of fact, not supposed to take place.Seldon did not know every of the three men. That was not entirely surprising. There were habitues of the Library, quite a fewer, and Seldon k new-sprung(prenominal) most of them by sight-and some in time to chew out to-but the Library was open to all citizens. No qualifications. Anyone could draw in and use its facilities. (For a limited period of date, of course. Only a select few, like Seldon were allowed to set up shop in the Library. Seldon had been granted the use of a locked private pip and complete access to Library resources.)One of the men (Seldon thought of him as Hook Nose, for obvious reasons) spoke in a low urgent voice.Let it go, he expre ss. Let it go. Its costing us a mint to chastise to hold on and, even if we do, it volition only be while theyre on that point. They cant stay there forever and, as soon as they leave, the positioning leave alone revert to what it was.Seldon knew what they were talking toing about. The news had condescend over TrantorVision only three days ago that the Imperial government had decided on a show of force to bring the obstreperous Governor of Anacreon into line. Seldons own psychohistorical synopsis had shown him that it was a useless procedure, but the government did not generally listen when its emotions were stirred. Seldon smiled slightly and grimly at hearing Hook Nose say what he himself had said-and the young man said it without the benefit of any knowledge of psychohistory.Hook Nose went on. If we leave Anacreon alone, what do we lose? Its still there, right where it always was, right at the edge of the pudding stone. It cant pick up and go to Andromeda, can it? So it still has to trade with us and life impacts. Whats the difference if they salute the Emperor or not? Youll never be able to tell the difference.The second man, whom Seldon had labeled Baldy, for even more obvious reasons, said, Except this whole business doesnt exist in a vacuum. If Anacreon goes, the other border provinces allow for go. The Empire will break up.So what? whispered Hook Nose fiercely. The Empire cant run itself effectively anymore, anyway. Its too big. Let the border go and take care of itself-if it can. The Inner Worlds will be all the stronger and better off. The border doesnt retain to be ours politically it will still be ours economically.And now the third man ( personnel casualty Cheeks) said, I wish you were right, but thats not the way its going to work. If the border provinces establish their independence, the scratch line matter each will do will be to try to increase its power at the expense of its neighbors. Therell be war and conflict and every one o f the governors will dream of becoming Emperor at last. It will be like the old days before the Kingdom of Trantor-a dark age that will last for thousands of years.Baldy said, Surely things wont be that bad. The Empire may break up, but it will heal itself quickly when mess find out that the insularity just now means war and impoverishment. Theyll look back on the golden days of the intact Empire and all will be well again. Were not barbarians, you know. Well find a way.Absolutely, said Hook Nose. Weve got to remember that the Empire has faced crisis after crisis in its history and has pulled through time and again. exclusively bolshie Cheeks move his head as he said, This is not just another crisis. This is something much worse. The Empire has been deteriorating for generations. Ten years worth of the military junta destroyed the economy and since the fall of the junta and the rise of this new Emperor, the Empire has been so weak that the governors on the Periphery dont shed to do anything. Its going to fall of its own weight.And the committedness to the Emperor- began Hook Nose.What allegiance? said Red Cheeks. We went for years without an Emperor after Cleon was assassinated and no one have the appearance _or_ semblanceed to mind much. And this new Emperor is just a figurehead. Theres nothing he can do. Theres nothing anyone can do. This isnt a crisis. This is the end. The other two stared at Red Cheeks, frowning. Baldy said, You really believe it You think that the Imperial government will just sit there and let it all happen?Yes Like you two, they wont believe it is happening. That is, until its too late.What would you want them to do if they did believe it? asked Baldy.Red Cheeks stared into the Galactograph, as if he might find an answer there. I dont know. Look, in due course of time Ill die things wont be too bad by then. Afterward, as the situation gets worse, other people can worry about it. Ill be gone. And so will the good old days. perha ps forever. Im not the only one who thinks this, by the way. Ever hear of someone named Hari Seldon?Sure, said Hook Nose at once. Wasnt he First Minister chthonian Cleon?Yes, said Red Cheeks. Hes some secernate of scientist. I heard him give a talk a few months back. It felt good to know Im not the only one who believes the Empire is locomote apart. He said-And he said everythings going to pot and theres going to be a permanent dark age? Baldy interjected.Well no, said Red Cheeks. Hes one of these real cautious types. Ire says it might happen, but hes wrong. It will happen.Seldon had heard enough. He limped toward the table where the three men sat and touched Red Cheeks on the shoulder.Sir, he said, may I speak to you for a moment?Startled, Red Cheeks looked up and then he said, Hey, arent you Professor Seldon?I always hold been, said Seldon. He handed the man a reference tile bearing his photograph. I would like to see you here in my Library office at 4 P.M., day after tomorrow . Can you manage that?I have to work.Call in sick if you have to. Its important.Well, Im not sure, sir.Do it, said Seldon. If you get into any sort of trouble over it, Ill straighten it out. And meanwhile, gentlemen, do you mind if I study the Galaxy simulation for a moment? Its been a long time since Ive looked at one.They nodded mutely, apparently abashed at being in the presence of a former First Minister. One by one the men stepped back and allowed Seldon access to the Galactograph controls.Seldons finger reached out to the controls and the red that had marked off the Province of Anacreon vanished. The Galaxy was unmarked, a glowing pinwheel of mist brightening into the planetary glow at the center, behind which was the Galactic black hole.Individual stars could not be made out, of course, unless the view were magnified, but then only one delegate or another of the Galaxy would be shown on the screen and Seldon wanted to see the whole thing -to get a look at the Empire that wa s vanishing.He pushed a contact and a series of yellow dots appeared on the Galactic image. They represented the habitable planets-twenty-five million of them. They could be distinguished as individual dots in the thin fog that represented the outskirts of the Galaxy, but they were more and more thickly placed as one moved in toward the center. There was a belt of what seemed solid yellow (but which would separate into individual dots under magnification) around the central glow. The central glow itself remained white and unmarked, of course. No habitable planets could exist in the midst of the turbulent energies of the core.Despite the great density of yellow, not one star in ten thousand, Seldon knew, had a habitable planet circling it. This was true, despite the planet-molding and terraforming capacities of human being. not all the molding in the Galaxy could make most of the worlds into anything a human being could walk on in comfort and without the protection of a spacesuit.Se ldon closed another contact. The yellow dots disappeared, but one tiny region glowed blasphemous Trantor and the various worlds directly dependent on it. As close as it could be to the central core and yet remaining insulated from its deadliness, it was commonly viewed as being located at the center of the Galaxy, which it wasnt-not truly. As usual, one had to be strike by the smallness of the world of Trantor, a tiny place in the vast realm of the Galaxy, but within it was squeezed the largest concentration of wealth, culture, and governmental authority that humanity had ever seen.And even that was doomed to destruction.It was just about as though the men could enter his mind or perhaps they interpreted the sad expression on his face.Baldy asked softly, Is the Empire really going to be destroyed?Seldon replied, softer still, It might. It might. Anything might happen.He rose, smiled at the men, and left, but in his thoughts he screamed It will It will2Seldon sighed as he climbed into one of the skitters that were ranked side by side in the large alcove. There had been a time, just a few years ago, when he had gloried in walking briskly along the interminable corridors of the Library, telling himself that even though he was past sixty he could manage it. nevertheless now, at seventy, his legs gave way all too quickly and he had to take a skitter. Younger men took them all the time because skitters saved them trouble, but Seldon did it because he had to-and that made all the difference.After Seldon punched in the destination, he closed a contact and the skitter lifted a fraction of an inch above the floor. absent it went at a rather casual pace, very smoothly, very silently, and Seldon leaned back and watched the corridor walls, the other skitters, the occasional walkers.He passed a number of Librarians and, even after all these years, he still smiled when he saw them. They were the oldest Guild in the Empire, the one with the most revered traditions, and t hey clung to ways that were more appropriate centuries before-maybe millennia before.Their garments were silky and off-white and were blowsy enough to be almost gownlike, coming in concert at the neck and billowing out from there.Trantor, like all the worlds, oscillated, where the males were concerned, between facial hair and smoothness. The people of Trantor itself-or at least most of its sectors-were smooth-shaven and had been smooth-shaven for as far back as he knew-excepting such anomalies as the mustaches worn by Dahlites, such as his own foster son, Raych.The Librarians, however, clung to the beards of long ago. Every Librarian had a rather short neatly cultivated beard running from ear to ear but leaving bare the upper lip. That alone was enough to mark them for what they were and to make the smooth-shaven Seldon feel a little uncomfortable when surrounded by a crowd of them.Actually the most characteristic thing of all was the cap each wore (perhaps even when asleep, Seldon thought). Square, it was made of a velvety strong, in four parts that came together with a button at the top. The caps came in an endless variety of colors and apparently each color had significance. If you were familiar with Librarian lore, you could tell a particular Librarians length of service, area of expertise, grades of accomplishment, and so on. They helped fix a pecking order. Every Librarian could, by a glance at anothers hat, tell whether to be respectful (and to what degree) or overbearing (and to what degree).The Galactic Library was the largest single structure on Trantor (possibly in the Galaxy), much larger than even the Imperial Palace, and it had once gleamed and glittered, as though boasting of its size and magnificence. However, like the Empire itself, it had faded and withered. It was like an old dowager still wearing the jewels of her youth but upon a body that was unironed and wattled.The skitter stopped in front of the ornate doorway of the Chief Librarian s office and Seldon climbed out.Las Zenow smiled as he greeted Seldon. Welcome, my friend, he said in his high-pitched voice. (Seldon wondered if he had ever sung tenor in his younger days but had never dared to ask. The Chief Librarian was a compound of dignity always and the motility might have seemed offensive.)Greetings, said Seldon. Zenow had a gray beard, rather more than halfway to white, and he wore a pure white hat. Seldon understood that without any explanation. It was a case of reverse ostentation. The total absence of color represented the highest peak of position.Zenow rubbed his hands with what seemed to be an inner glee. Ive called you in, Hari, because Ive got good news for you. Weve run aground itBy it, Las, you mean-A suitable world. You wanted one far out. I think weve located the ideal one. His smile broadened. You just leave it to the Library. Hari. We can find anything.I have no doubt, Las. Tell me about this world.Well, let me show you its location first. A section of the wall slid aside, the lights in the room dimmed, and the Galaxy appeared in three-dimensional form, good turn unwindly. Again, red lines marked off the Province of Anacreon, so that Seldon could almost swear that the episode with the three men had been a rehearsal for this.And then a graphic blue dot appeared at the far end of the province. There it is, said Zenow. Its an ideal world. Sizable, well-watered, good oxygen atmosphere, vegetation, of course. A great deal of sea life. Its there just for the taking. No planet-molding or terraforming required-or, at least, none that cannot be done while it is actually occupied.Seldon said, Is it an unoccupied world, Las?Absolutely unoccupied. No one on it.But why-if its so suitable? I presume that, if you have all the details about it, it must have been explored. Why wasnt it colonized?It was explored, but only by unmanned probes. And there was no colonization-presumably because it was so far from everything. The planet rev olves around a star that is farther from the central black hole than that of any populate planet-farther by far. Too far, I suppose, for prospective colonists, but I think not too far for you. You said, The farther, the better. Yes, said Seldon, nodding. I still say so. Does it have a name or is there just a letter-number combination?Believe it or not, it has a name. Those who sent out the probes named it Terminus, an archaic word nitty-gritty the end of the line. Which it would seem to be.Seldon said, Is the world part of the territory of the Province of Anacreon?Not really, said Zenow. If youll study the red line and the red shading, you will see that the blue dot of Terminus lies slightly outside it-fifty light-years outside it, in fact. Terminus belongs to nobody its not even part of the Empire, as a matter of fact.Youre right, then, Las. It does seem like the ideal world Ive been looking for.Of course, said Zenow thoughtfully, once you occupy Terminus, I imagine the Governor o f Anacreon will claim it as being under his jurisdiction.Thats possible, said Seldon, but well have to deal with that when 1 he matter comes up.Zenow rubbed his hands again. What a glorious conception. Setting up a large interpret on a brand-new world, far away and entirely isolated, so that year by year and decade by decade a huge Encyclopedia of all human knowledge can be put together. An epitome of what is present in this Library. If I were only younger, I would cognize to tie in the expedition.Seldon said sadly, Youre almost twenty years younger than I am. (Almost everyone is far younger than I am, he thought, even more sadly.)Zenow said, Ah yes, I heard that you just passed your seventieth birthday. I hope you enjoyed it and celebrated appropriately.Seldon stirred. I dont celebrate my birthdays.Oh, but you did. I remember the famous story of your sixtieth birthday.Seldon felt the pain, as deeply as though the dearest loss in all the world had taken place the day before. Pl ease dont talk about it, he said.Abashed, Zenow said, Im sorry. Well talk about something else. If, indeed, Terminus is the world you want, I imagine that your work on the preliminaries to the Encyclopedia Project will be redoubled. As you know, the Library will be glad to help you in all respects.Im aware of it, Las, and I am endlessly grateful. We will, indeed, keep working.He rose, not yet able to smile after the sharp pang induced by the reference to his birthday celebration of ten years back. He said, So I must go to continue my labors.And as he left, he felt, as always, a pang of conscience over the deceit he was practicing. Las Zenow did not have the slightest idea of Seldons true intentions.3Hari Seldon surveyed the comfortable suite that had been his personal office at the Galactic Library these past few years. It, like the rest of the Library, had a vague air of tumble about it, a kind of weariness-something that had been too long in one place. And yet Seldon knew it migh t remain here, in the same place, for centuries more-with judicious rebuildings-for millennia even.How did he come to be here?Over and over again, he felt the past in his mind, ran his mental tendrils along the line of development of his life. It was part of growing older, no doubt. There was so much more in the past, so much less in the future, that the mind morose away from the looming shadow ahead to analyze the safety of what had gone before.In his case, though, there was that change. For over thirty years psychohistory had developed in what might almost be considered a straight line-progress creepingly slow but moving straight ahead. Then six years ago there had been a right-angled turn-totally unexpected.And Seldon know exactly how it had happened, how a concatenation of events came together to make it possible.It was Wanda, of course, Seldons granddaughter. Hari closed his eyes and settled into his chair to review the events of six years before.Twelve-year-old Wanda was ber eft. Her mother, Manella, had had another chela, another little girl, Bellis, and for a time the new despoil was a total preoccupation.Her father, Raych, having finished his book on his home sector of Dahl, found it to be a minor success and himself a minor celebrity. He was called upon to talk on the subject, something he accepted with alacrity, for he was fiercely absorbed in the subject and, as he said to Hari with a grin, When I talk about Dahl, I dont have to hide my Dahlite accent. In fact, the public expects it of me.The net result, though, was that he was away from home a considerable amount of time and when he wasnt, it was the baby he wanted to see.As for Dors-Dors was gone-and to Hari Seldon that wound was ever-fresh, ever-painful. And he had reacted to it in an unfortunate manner. It had been Wandas dream that had set in motion the current of events that had ended with the loss of Dors.Wanda had had nothing to do with it-Seldon knew that very well. And yet he found hims elf shrinking from her, so that he also failed her in the crisis brought about by the birth of the new baby.And Wanda wandered disconsolately to the one person who always seemed glad to see her, the one person she could always count on. That WAS Yugo Amaryl, second only to Hari Seldon in the development of psychohistory and first in his absolute round-the-clock devotion to it. Hari had had Dors and Raych, but psychohistory was Yugos life he had no wife and children. Yet whenever Wanda came into his presence, something within him recognized her as a child and he dimly felt-for just that moment-a sense of loss that seemed to be assuaged only by showing the child affection. To be sure, he tended to treat her as a rather undersized adult, but Wanda seemed to like that.It was six years ago that she had wandered into Yugos office. Yugo looked up at her with his owlish reconstituted eyes and, as usual, took a moment or two to recognize her.Then he said, Why, its my dear friend Wanda. But w hy do you look so sad? Surely an attractive young woman like you should never feel sad.And Wanda, her lower lip trembling, said, Nobody loves me.Oh come, thats not true.They just love that new baby. They dont care about me anymore.I love you, Wanda.Well, youre the only one then, Uncle Yugo. And even though she could no longer crawl onto his lap as she had when she was younger, she cradled her head on his shoulder and wept.Amaryl, totally unaware of what he should do, could only hug the girl and say, Dont cry. Dont cry. And out of sheer sympathy and because he had so little in his own life to weep about, he found that tears were trickling down his own cheeks as well.And then he said with sudden energy, Wanda, would you like to see something pretty?What? sniffled Wanda.Amaryl knew only one thing in life and the Universe that was pretty. He said, Did you ever see the Prime Radiant?No. What is it?Its what your grandfather and I use to do our work. See? Its right here.He pointed to the b lack cube on his desk and Wanda looked at it woefully. Thats not pretty, she said.Not now, agreed Amaryl. But watch when I turn it on.He did so. The room darkened and make full with dots of light and flashes of different colors. See? Now we can magnify it so all the dots become mathematical symbols.And so they did. There seemed a rush of material toward them and there, in the air, were signs of all sorts, letters, numbers, arrows, and shapes that Wanda had never seen before.Isnt it pretty? asked Amaryl.Yes, it is, said Wanda, staring carefully at the equations that (she didnt know) represented possible futures. I dont like that part, though. I think its wrong. She pointed at a colorful equation to her left.Wrong? Why do you say its wrong said Amaryl, frowning.Because its not pretty. Id do it a different way.Amaryl cleared his throat. Well, Ill try to fix it up. And he moved closer to the equation in question, staring at it in his owlish fashion.Wanda said, Thank you very much, Uncl e Yugo, for showing me your pretty lights. Maybe someday Ill understand what they mean.Thats all right, said Amaryl. I hope you feel better.A little, thanks, and, after flashing the briefest of smiles, she left the room.Amaryl stood there, feeling a trifle hurt. He didnt like having the Prime Radiants product criticized-not even by a twelve-year-old girl who knew no better.And as he stood there, he had no idea whatsoever that the psychohistorical renewing had begun.4That afternoon Amaryl went to Hari Seldons office at Streeling University. That in itself was fantastic, for Amaryl virtually never left his own office, even to speak with a colleague just down the hall.Hari, said Amaryl, frowning and looking puzzled. Something very odd has happened. Very peculiar.Seldon looked at Amaryl with deepest sorrow. He was only fifty-three, but he looked much older, bent, worn down to almost transparency. When forced, he had undergone doctors examinations and the doctors had all recommended th at he leave his work for a period of time (some said permanently) and rest. Only this, the doctors said, might improve his health. Otherwise-Seldon shook his head. Take him away from his work and hell die all the sooner-and unhappier. We have no choice.And then Seldon realized that, lost in such thoughts, he was not hearing Amaryl speak.He said, Im sorry, Yugo. Im a little distracted. Begin again.Amaryl said, Im telling you that something very odd has happened. Very peculiar.What is it, Yugo?It was Wanda. She came in to see me-very sad, very upset.Why?Apparently its the new baby.Oh yes, Hari said with more than a trace of guilt in his voice.So she said and cried on my shoulder-I actually cried a bit, too, Hari. And then I thought Id cheer her up by showing her the Prime Radiant. Here Amaryl hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully.Go on, Yugo. What happened?Well, she stared at all the lights and I magnified a portion, actually Section 428254. Youre acquainted with that?Sel don smiled. No, Yugo, I havent memorized the equations quite as well as you have.Well, you should, said Amaryl severely. How can you do a good job if-But never mind that. What Im trying to say is that Wanda pointed to a part of it and said it was no good. It wasnt pretty. Why not? We all have our personal likes and dislikes.Yes, of course, but I brooded about it and I spent some time going over it and, Hari, there was something wrong with it. The programming was inexact and that area, the precise area to which Wanda pointed, was no good. And, really, it wasnt pretty.Seldon sat up rather stiffly, frowning. Let me get this straight, Yugo. She pointed to something at random, said it was no good, and she was right?Yes. She pointed, but it wasnt at random she was very deliberate.But thats impossible.But it happened. I was there.Im not saying it didnt happen. Im saying it was just a wild coincidence.Is it? Do you think, with all your knowledge of psychohistory, you could take one glance a t a new set of equations and tell me that one portion is no good?Seldon said, Well then, Yugo, how did you come to expand that particular portion of the equations? What made you choose that piece for magnification?Amaryl shrugged. That was coincidence-if you like. I just fiddled with the controls.That couldnt be coincidence, muttered Seldon. For a few moments he was lost in thought, then he asked the question that pushed forward the psychohistorical revolution that Wanda had begun.He said, Yugo, did you have any suspicions about those equations beforehand? Did you have any reason to believe there was something wrong with them?Amaryl fiddled with the sash of his unisuit and seemed embarrassed. Yes, I think I did. You see-You think you did?I know I did. I seemed to recall when I was setting it up-its a new section, you know-my fingers seemed to glitch on the programmer. It looked all right then, but I guess I kept worrying about it inside. I remember thinking it looked wrong, but I ha d other things to do and I just let it go. But then when Wanda happened to point to precisely the area I had been concerned about, I decided to check up on her-otherwise I would just have let it go as a childish statement.And you turned on that very fragment of the equations to show Wanda. As though it were haunting your unconscious mind.Amaryl shrugged. Who knows?And just before that, you were very close together, hugging, both crying.Amaryl shrugged again, looking even more embarrassed.Seldon said, I think I know what happened, Yugo. Wanda read your mind.Amaryl jumped, as though he had been bitten. Thats impossibleSlowly Seldon said, I once knew someone who had unusual mental powers of that sort-and he thought sadly of Eto Demerzel or, as Seldon had secretly known him, Daneel-only he was somewhat more than human. But his ability to read minds, to sense other peoples thoughts, to persuade people to act in a certain way-that was a mental ability. I think, somehow, that perhaps Wanda has that ability as well.I cant believe it, said Amaryl stubbornly.I can, said Seldon but I dont know what to do about it. Dimly lie felt the rumblings of a revolution in psychohistorical research-but only dimly.

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