Prelude to Foundation

 

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-are 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, "I'll 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 frequently 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 d��colletage, 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, eat, 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 twenty-five 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 is 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."