Isaac Asimov - Forward the Foundation

“There was one thing, however, that Las could not provide. In order to keep the Project on schedule, I must have office space and unlimited access granted to a number of my colleagues, as well. It is an enormous undertaking, just gathering the information to be copied and transferred to Terminus before we can begin the actual work of compiling the Encyclopedia.

“Las was not popular with the Library Board, as you undoubtedly are aware. You, however, are. And so I ask you, Chief Librarian: Will you see to it that my colleagues are granted insiders’ privileges so that we may continue our most vital work?”

Here Hari stopped, almost out of breath. He was sure that his speech, which he had gone over and over in his mind the night before, would have the desired effect. He waited, confident in Acarnio’s response.

“Professor Seldon,” Acarnio began. Seldon’s expectant smile faded. There was an edge to the Chief Librarian’s voice that Seldon had not expected. “My esteemed predecessor provided me—in exhaustive detail—an explication of your work here at the Library. He was quite enthusiastic about your research and committed to the idea of your colleagues joining you here. As was I, Professor Seldon”—at Acarnio’s pause, Seldon looked up sharply—“at first. I was prepared to call a special meeting of the Board to propose that a larger suite of offices be prepared for you and your Encyclopedists. But, Professor Seldon, all that has now changed.”

“Changed! But why?”

“Professor Seldon, you have just finished serving as principal defendant in a most sensational assault and battery case.”

“But I was acquitted,” Seldon broke in. “The case never even made it to trial.”

“Nonetheless, Professor, your latest foray into the public eye has given you an undeniable—how shall I say it?— tinge of ill repute. Oh yes, you were acquitted of all charges. But in order to get to that acquittal, your name, your past, your beliefs, and your work were paraded before the eyes of all the worlds. And even if one progressive right-thinking judge has proclaimed you faultless, what of the millions—perhaps billions—of other average citizens who see not a pioneering psychohistorian striving to preserve his civilization’s glory but a raving lunatic shouting doom and gloom for the great and mighty Empire?

“You, by the very nature of your work, are threatening the essential fabric of the Empire. I don’t mean the huge, nameless, faceless, monolithic Empire. No, I am referring to the heart and soul of the Empire—its people. When you tell them the Empire is failing, you are saying that they are failing. And this, my dear Professor, the average citizen cannot face.

“Seldon, like it or not, you have become an object of derision, a subject of ridicule, a laughingstock.”

“Pardon me, Chief Librarian, but for years now I have been, to some circles, a laughingstock.”

“Yes, but only to some circles. But this latest incident—and the very public forum in which it was played out—has opened you up to ridicule not only here on Trantor but throughout the worlds. And, Professor, if, by providing you an office, we, the Galactic Library, give tacit approval to your work, then, by inference, we, the Library, also become a laughingstock throughout the worlds. And no matter how strongly I may personally believe in your theory and your Encyclopedia, as Chief Librarian of the Galactic Library on Trantor, I must think of the Library first.

“And so, Professor Seldon, your request to bring in your colleagues is denied.”

Hari Seldon jerked back in his chair as if struck.

“Further,” Acarnio continued, “I must advise you of a two-week temporary suspension of all Library privileges—effective immediately. The Board has called that special meeting, Professor Seldon. In two weeks’ time we will notify you whether or not we’ve decided that our association with you must be terminated.”

Here, Acarnio stopped speaking and, placing his palms on the glossy, spotless surface of his desk, stood up. “That is all, Professor Seldon—for now.”

Hari Seldon stood as well, although his upward movement was not as smooth, nor as quick, as Tryma Acarnio’s.

“May I be permitted to address the Board?” asked Seldon. “Perhaps if I were able to explain to them the vital importance of psychohistory and the Encyclopedia—”

“I’m afraid not, Professor,” said Acarnio softly and Seldon caught a brief glimmer of the man Las Zenow had told him about. But, just as quickly, the icy bureaucrat was back as Acarnio guided Seldon to the door.

As the portals slid open, Acarnio said, “Two weeks, Professor Seldon. Till then.” Hari stepped through to his waiting skitter and the doors slid shut.

What am I going to do now? wondered Seldon disconsolately. Is this the end of my work?

“Wanda dear, what is it that has you so engrossed?” asked Hari Seldon as he entered his granddaughter’s office at Streeling University. The room had been the office of the brilliant mathematician Yugo Amaryl, whose death had impoverished the Psychohistory Project. Fortunately, Wanda had gradually taken over Yugo’s role in recent years, further refining and adjusting the Prime Radiant.

“Why, I’m working on an equation in Section 33A2D17. See, I’ve recalibrated this section”—she gestured to a glowing violet patch suspended in midair in front of her face—“taking into consideration the standard quotient and— There! Just what I thought—I think.” She stepped back and rubbed her eyes.

“What is it, Wanda?” Hari moved in closer to study the equation. “Why, this looks like the Terminus equation and yet . . . Wanda, this is an inverse of the Terminus equation, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Grandpa. See, the numbers weren’t working quite right in the Terminus equation—look.” Wanda touched a contact in a recessed wallstrip and another patch sprang to life in vivid red on the other side of the room. Seldon and Wanda walked over to inspect it. “You see how it’s all hanging together fine now, Grandpa? It’s taken me weeks to get it this way.”

“How did you do it?” asked Hari, admiring the equation’s lines, its logic, its elegance.

“At first, I concentrated on it from over here only. I blocked out all else. In order to get Terminus to work, work on Terminus—stands to reason, doesn’t it? But then I realized that I couldn’t just introduce this equation into the Prime Radiant system and expect it to blend right in smoothly, as if nothing happened. A placement means a displacement somewhere else. A weight needs a counterweight.”

“I think the concept to which you are referring is what the ancients called ‘ yin and yang .’ ”

“Yes, more or less. Yin and yang . So, you see, I realized that to perfect the yin of Terminus, I had to locate its yang . Which I did, over there.” She moved back to the violet patch, tucked away at the other edge of the Prime Radiant sphere. “And once I adjusted the figures here, the Terminus equation fell into place as well. Harmony!” Wanda looked pleased with herself, as if she’d solved all the problems of the Empire.

“Fascinating, Wanda, and later on you must tell me what you think it all means for the Project. —But right now you must come with me to the holoscreen. I received an urgent message from Santanni a few minutes ago. Your father wants us to call him immediately.”

Wanda’s smile faded. She had been alarmed at the recent reports of fighting on Santanni. As Imperial budget cutbacks went into effect, the citizens of the Outer Worlds suffered most. They had limited access to the richer, more populous Inner Worlds and it became more and more difficult to trade their worlds’ products for much needed imports. Imperial hyperships going in and out of Santanni were few and the distant world felt isolated from the rest of the Empire. Pockets of rebellion had erupted throughout the planet.