Forward the Foundation (Page 86)

But Red Cheeks shook 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 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 don’t have to do anything. It’s going to fall of its own weight."

"And the allegiance 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 seemed to mind much. And this new Emperor is just a figurehead. There’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. This isn’t 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 won’t believe it is happening. That is, until it’s 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 don’t know. Look, in due course of time I’ll die; things won’t be too bad by then. Afterward, as the situation gets worse, other people can worry about it. I’ll be gone. And so will the good old days. Maybe forever. I’m not the only one who thinks this, by the way. Ever hear of someone named Hari Seldon?"

"Sure," said Hook Nose at once. "Wasn’t he First Minister under Cleon?"

"Yes," said Red Cheeks. "He’s some sort of scientist. I heard him give a talk a few months back. It felt good to know I’m not the only one who believes the Empire is falling apart. He said-"

"And he said everything’s going to pot and there’s going to be a permanent dark age?" Baldy interjected.

"Well no," said Red Cheeks. "He’s one of these real cautious types. Ire says it might happen, but he’s 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, aren’t you Professor Seldon?"

"I always have 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. It’s important."

"Well, I’m not sure, sir."

"Do it," said Seldon. "If you get into any sort of trouble over it, I’ll straighten it out. And meanwhile, gentlemen, do you mind if I study the Galaxy simulation for a moment? It’s been a long time since I’ve 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.

Seldon’s 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 spherical 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 portion 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 was 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 humanity. 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.

Seldon closed another contact. The yellow dots disappeared, but one tiny region glowed blue: 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 wasn’t-not truly. As usual, one had to be impressed 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 almost as though the men could read 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 will!

2

Seldon 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.