Prelude to Foundation (Page 46)

"Mycogen Sector," repeated Hari, looking from one to the other. "What and where is Mycogen Sector?"

"Hari, please, I’ll tell you later. Right now, I have preparations to make. You’ll leave tonight."

33.

Dors had urged Seldon to sleep a bit. They would be leaving halfway between lights out and lights on, under cover of "night," while the rest of the University slept. She insisted he could still use a little rest.

"And have you sleep on the floor again?" Seldon asked.

She shrugged. "The bed will only hold one and if we both try to crowd into it, neither of us will get much sleep."

He looked at her hungrily for a moment and said, "Then I’ll sleep on the floor this time."

"No, you won’t. I wasn’t the one who lay in a coma in the sleet."

As it happened, neither slept. Though they darkened the room and though the perpetual hum of Trantor was only a drowsy sound in the relatively quiet confines of the University, Seldon found that he had to talk. He said, "I’ve been so much trouble to you, Dors, here at the University. I’ve even been keeping you from your work. Still, I’m sorry I’ll have to leave you."

Dors said, "You won’t leave me. I’m coming with you. Hummin is arranging a leave of absence for me."

Seldon said, dismayed, "I can’t ask you to do that."

"You’re not. Hummin’s asking it. I must guard you. After all, I faded in connection with Upperside and should make up for it."

"I told you. Please don’t feel guilty about that.-Still, I must admit I would feel more comfortable with you at my side. If I could only be sure I wasn’t interfering with your life…"

Dors said softly, "You’re not, Hari. Please go to sleep."

Seldon lay silent for a while, then whispered, "Are you sure Hummin can really arrange everything, Dors?"

Dors said, "He’s a remarkable man. He’s got influence here at the University and everywhere else, I think. If he says he can arrange for an indefinite leave for me, I’m sure he can. He is a most persuasive man."

"I know," said Seldon. "Sometimes I wonder what he really wants of me."

"What he says," said Dors. "He’s a man of strong and idealistic ideas and dreams."

"You sound as though you know him well, Dors."

"Oh yes, I know him well."

"Intimately?"

Dors made an odd noise. "I’m not sure what you’re implying, Hari, but, assuming the most insolent interpretation- No, I don’t know him intimately. What business would that be of yours anyway?"

"I’m sorry," said Seldon. "I just didn’t want, inadvertently, to be invading someone else’s-"

"Property? That’s even more insulting. I think you had better go to sleep."

"I’m sorry again, Dors, but I can’t sleep. Let me at least change the subject. You haven’t explained what the Mycogen Sector is. Why will it be good for me to go there? What’s it like?"

"It’s a small sector with a population of only about two million-if I remember correctly. The thing is that the Mycogenians cling tightly to a set of traditions about early history and are supposed to have very ancient records not available to anyone else. It’s just possible they would be of more use to you in your attempted examination of pre-Imperial times than orthodox historians might be. All our talk about early history brought the sector to mind."

"Have you ever seen their records?"

"No. I don’t know anyone who has."

"Can you be sure that the records really exist, then?"

"Actually, I can’t say. The assumption among non-Mycogenians is that they’re a bunch of madcaps, but that may be quite unfair. They certainly say they have records, so perhaps they do. In any case, we would be out of sight there. The Mycogenians keep strictly to themselves.-And now please do go to sleep."

And somehow Seldon finally did.

34.

Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili left the University grounds at 0300. Seldon realized that Dors had to be the leader. She knew Trantor better than he did-two years better. She was obviously a close friend of Hummin (how close? the question kept nagging at him) and she understood his instructions. Both she and Seldon were swathed in light swirling docks with tight-fitting hoods. The style had been a short-lived clothing fad at the University (and among young intellectuals, generally) some years back and though right now it might provoke laughter, it had the saving grace of covering them well and of making them unrecognizable-at least at a cursory glance.

Hummin had said, "There’s a possibility that the event Upperside was completely innocent and that there are no agents after you, Seldon, but let’s be prepared for the worst."

Seldon had asked anxiously, "Won’t you come with us?"

"I would like to," said Hummin, "but I must limit my absence from work if I am not to become a target myself. You understand?"

Seldon sighed. He understood.

They entered an Expressway car and found a seat as far as possible from the few who had already boarded. (Seldon wondered why anyone should be on the Expressways at three in the morning-and then thought that it was lucky some were or he and Dors would be entirely too conspicuous.)

Seldon fell to watching the endless panorama that passed in review as the equally endless line of coaches moved along the endless monorail on an endless electromagnetic field.

The Expressway passed row upon row of dwelling units, few of them very tall, but some, for all he knew, very deep. Still, if tens of millions of square kilometers formed an urbanized total, even forty billion people would not require very tall structures or very closely packed ones. They did pass open areas, in most of which crops seemed to be growing-but some of which were clearly parklike. And there were numerous structures whose nature he couldn’t guess. Factories? Office buildings? Who knew? One large featureless cylinder struck him as though it might be a water tank. After all, Trantor had to have a fresh water supply. Did they sluice rain from Upperside, filter and treat it, then store it? It seemed inevitable that they should. Seldon did not have very long to study the view, however.