Isaac Asimov - Forward the Foundation

“All of you!”

“And you, Dad. And you. We wouldn’t leave you behind on Trantor. You’re coming with us to Santanni.”

Seldon shook his head. “Impossible, Raych. You know that.”

“Why impossible?”

“You know why. The Project. My psychohistory. Are you asking me to abandon my life’s work?”

“Why not? It’s abandoned you.”

“You’re mad.”

“No, I’m not. Where are you going with it? You have no credits. You can’t get any. There’s no one left on Trantor who’s willing to support you.”

“For nearly forty years—”

“Yes, I admit that. But after all that time, you’ve failed , Dad. There’s no crime in failing. You’ve tried so hard and you’ve gone so far, but you’ve run into a deteriorating economy, a falling Empire. It’s the very thing you’ve been predicting for so long that’s stopping you at last. So—”

“No. I will not stop. Somehow or other, I will keep going.”

“I tell you what, Dad. If you’re really going to be so stubborn, then take psychohistory with you. Start it again on Santanni. There may be enough credits—and enthusiasm—to support it there.”

“And the men and women who have been working for me so faithfully?”

“Oh bull, Dad. They’ve been leaving you because you can’t pay them. You hang around here for the rest of your life and you’ll be alone. —Oh, come on, Dad. Do you think I like to talk to you this way? It’s because no one had wanted to—because no one has had the heart to—that you’re in your present predicament. Let’s be honest with each other now. When you walk the streets of Trantor and you’re attacked for no reason other than that you’re Hari Seldon, don’t you think it’s time for a little bit of truth?”

“Never mind the truth. I have no intention of leaving Trantor.”

Raych shook his head. “I was sure you’d be stubborn, Dad. You’ve got two months to change your mind. Think about it, will you?”

It had been a long time since Hari Seldon had smiled. He had conducted the Project in the same fashion that he always did: pushing always forward in the development of psychohistory, making plans for the Foundation, studying the Prime Radiant.

But he did not smile. All he did was to force himself through his work without any feeling of impending success. Rather, there was a feeling of impending failure about everything.

And now, as he sat in his office at Streeling University, Wanda entered. He looked up at her and his heart lifted. Wanda had always been special. Seldon couldn’t put his finger on just when he and the others had started accepting her pronouncements with more than the usual enthusiasm; it just seemed always to have been that way. As a little girl, she had saved his life with her uncanny knowledge of “lemonade death” and all through her childhood she had somehow just known things.

Although Dr. Endelecki had asserted that Wanda’s genome was perfectly normal in every way, Seldon was still positive that his granddaughter possessed mental abilities far beyond those of average humans. And he was just as sure that there were others like her in the Galaxy—on Trantor, even. If only he could find them, these mentalics, what a great contribution they could make to the Foundation. The potential for such greatness all centered in his beautiful granddaughter. Seldon gazed at her, framed in his office doorway, and he felt as if his heart would break. In a few days, she would be gone.

How could he hear it? She was such a beautiful girl—eighteen. Long blond hair, face a little broad but with a tendency to smile. She was even smiling now and Seldon thought, Why not? She’s heading for Santanni and for a new life.

He said, “Well, Wanda, just a few more days.”

“No. I don’t think so, Grandpa.”

He stared at her. “What?”

Wanda approached him and put her arms around him. “I’m not going to Santanni.”

“Have your father and mother changed their minds?”

“No, they’re going.”

“And you’re not? Why? Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stay here, Grandpa. With you.” She hugged him. “Poor Grandpa!”

“But I don’t understand. Why? Are they allowing this?”

“You mean Mom and Dad. Not really. We’ve been arguing over this for weeks, but I’ve won out. Why not, Grandpa? They’ll go to Santanni and they’ll have each other—and they’ll have little Bellis, too. But if I go with them and leave you here, you’ll have no one. I don’t think I could stand that.”

“But how did you get them to agree?”

“Well, you know—I pushed.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s my mind. I can see what you have in yours and in theirs and, as time goes on, I can see more clearly. And I can push them to do what I want.”

“How do you do that?”

“I don’t know. But after a while, they get tired of being pushed and they’re willing to let me have my way. So I’m going to stay with you.”

Seldon looked up at her with helpless love. “This is wonderful, Wanda. But Bellis—”

“Don’t worry about Bellis. She doesn’t have a mind like mine.”

“Are you certain?” Seldon chewed at his lower lip.

“Quite certain. Besides, Mom and Dad have to have someone, too.”

Seldon wanted to rejoice, but he couldn’t do so openly. There were Raych and Manella. What of them?

He said, “Wanda, what about your parents? Can you be so cold-blooded about them?”

“I’m not cold-blooded. They understand. They realize I must be with you.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I pushed,” said Wanda simply, “and eventually they came to see it my way.”

“You can do that?”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“And you did it because—” Seldon paused.

Wanda said, “Because I love you. Of course. And because—”

“Yes?”

“I must learn psychohistory. I know quite a bit of it already.”

“How?”

“From your mind. From the minds of others at the Project, especially from Uncle Yugo before he died. But it’s in rags and tatters, so far. I want the real thing. Grandpa, I want a Prime Radiant of my own.” Her face lit up and her words came quickly, with passion. “I want to study psychohistory in great detail. Grandpa, you’re quite old and quite tired. I’m young and eager. I want to learn all I can, so I can carry on when—”

Seldon said, “Well, that would be wonderful—if you could do it—but there is no funding anymore. I’ll teach you all I can, but—we can’t do anything.”

“We’ll see, Grandpa. We’ll see.”

Raych, Manella, and little Bellis were waiting at the spaceport.

The hypership was preparing for liftoff and the three had already checked their baggage.

Raych said, “Dad, come along with us.”

Seldon shook his head. “I cannot.”

“If you change your mind, we will always have a place for you.”

“I know it, Raych. We’ve been together for almost forty years—and they’ve been good years. Dors and I were lucky to find you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” His eyes filled with tears. “Don’t think I don’t think of Mother every day.”

“Yes.” Seldon looked away miserably. Wanda was playing with Bellis when the call rang out for everyone to board the hypership.

They did, after a tearful last embrace of Wanda by her parents. Raych looked back to wave at Seldon and to try to plant a crooked smile on his face.

Seldon waved and one hand moved out blindly to embrace Wanda’s shoulders.

She was the only one left. One by one through his long life, he had lost his friends and those he had loved. Demerzel had left, never to return; Emperor Cleon was gone; his beloved Dors was gone; his faithful friend Yugo Amaryl was gone; and now Raych, his only son, was gone as well.