Isaac Asimov - Prelude to Foundation

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It is the year 12,020 G.E. and Emperor Cleon I sits uneasily on the Imperial throne of Trantor. Here in the great multidomed capital of the Galactic Empire, forty billion people have created a civilization of unimaginable technological and cultural complexity. Yet Cleon knows there are those who would see him fall—those whom he would destroy if only he could read the future.
Hari Seldon has come to Trantor to deliver his paper on psychohistory, his remarkable theory of prediction. Little does the young Outworld mathematician know that he has already sealed his fate and the fate of humanity. For Hari possesses the prophetic power that makes him the most wanted man in the Empire . . . the man who holds the key to the future—an apocalyptic power to be known forever after as the Foundation.

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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, Dors? 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 Dors, 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 nothin’ . 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 do-it-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 be 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 comin’ 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 quietly 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, “but 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— 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 away—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.”

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