five years? Six? --but they were adults, not children. They didn't need constant
visits in order to remain friends. And this was not the letter a true friend would
send to Leyel Forska. Even if, doubtful as it might seem, Hari Seldon really meant
to turn him down, he would not suppose for a moment that Leyel would be content with
a letter like this.
Surely Hari would have known that it would be like a taunt to Leyel Forska.
"Lesser men and women," indeed! The Foundation on Terminus was so valuable to Hari
Seldon that he had been willing to risk death on charges of treason in order to
launch the project. It was unlikely in the extreme that he would populate Terminus
with second-raters. No, this was the form letter sent to placate prominent scholars
who were judged unfit for the Foundation. Hari would have known Leyel would
immediately recognize it as such.
There was only one possible conclusion. "Hari could not have written this letter,"
Leyel said.
"Of course he could," Deet told him, blunt as always. She had come out of the
bathroom in her dressing gown and read the letter over his shoulder.
"If you think so then I truly am hurt," said Leyel. He got up, poured a cup of
peshat, and began to sip it. He studiously avoided looking at Deet.
"Don't pout, Leyel. Think of the problems Hari is facing. He has so little time,
so much to do. A hundred thousand people to transport to Terminus, most of the
resources of the Imperial Library to duplicate--"
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"He already had those people--"
"All in six months, since his trial ended. No wonder we haven't seen him, socially
or professionally, in years. A decade!"
"You're saying that he no longer knows me? Unthinkable."
"I'm saying that he knows you very well. He knew you would recognize his message
as a form letter. He also knew that you would understand at once what this meant."
"Well, then, my dear, he overestimated me. I do not understand what it means,
unless it means he did not send it himself."
"Then you're getting old, and I'm ashamed of you. I shall deny we are married and
pretend you are my idiot uncle whom I allow to live with me out of charity. I'll
tell the children they were illegitimate. They'll be very sad to learn they won't
inherit a bit of the Forska estate."
He threw a crumb of toast at her. "You are a cruel and disloyal wench, and I
regret raising you out of poverty and obscurity. I only did it for pity, you know."
This was an old tease of theirs. She had commanded a decent fortune in her own
right, though of course Leyel's dwarfed it. And, technically, he was her uncle,
since her stepmother was Leyel's older half sister Zenna. It was all very
complicated. Zenna had been bom to Leyel's mother when she was married to sonieone
else-- before she married Leyel's father. So while Zenna was well dowered, she had
no part in the Forska fortune. Leyel's father, amused at the situation, once
remarked, "Poor Zenna. Lucky you. My semen flows with gold." Such are the ironies
that come with great fortune. Poor people don't have to make such terrible
distinctions between their children.
Deet's father, however, assumed that a Forska was a Forska, and so, several years
after Deet had married Leyel, he decided that it wasn't enough for his daughter to
be married to uncountable wealth, he ought to do the same favor for himself. He
said, of course, that he loved Zenna to distraction, and cared nothing for fortune,
but only Zenna believed him. Therefore she married him. Thus Leyel's half sister
became Deet's stepmother, which made Leyel his wife's stepuncle-- and his own
stepuncle-- in-law. A dynastic tangle that greatly amused Leyel and Deet.
Leyel of course compensated for Zenna's lack of inheritance with a lifetime
stipend that amounted to ten times her husband's income each year. It had the happy
effect of keeping Deet's old father in love with Zenna.
Today, though, Leyel was only half teasing Deet. There were times when he needed
her to confirm him, to uphold him. As often as not she contradicted him instead.
Sometimes this led him to rethink his position and emerge with a better
understanding-- thesis, antithesis, synthesis, the dialectic of marriage, the result
of being espoused to one's intellectual equal. But sometimes her challenge was
painful, unsatisfying, infuriating.
Oblivious to his underlying anger, she went on. "Hari assumed that you would take
his form letter for what it is-- a definite, final no. He isn't hedging he's not
engaging in some bureaucratic deviousness, he isn't playing politics with you. He
isn't stringing you along in hopes of getting more financial support from you-- if
that were it you know he'd simply ask."
"I already know what he isn't doing."
"What he is doing is turning you down with finality. An answer from which there is
no appeal. He gave you credit for having the wit to understand that."
"How convenient for you if I believe that."
Now, at last, she realized he was angry. "What's that supposed to mean?"
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"You can stay here on Trantor and continue your work with all your bureaucratic
friends."
Her face went cold and hard. "I told you. I am quite happy to go to Terminus with
you."
"Am I supposed to believe that, even now? Your research in community formation
within the Imperial bureaucracy cannot possibly continue on Terminus."
"I've already done the most important research. What I'm doing with the Imperial
Library staff is a test."
"Not even a scientific one, since there's no control group."
She looked annoyed. "I'm the one who told you that."
It was true. Leyel had never even heard of control groups until she taught him the
whole concept of experimentation. She had found it in some very old
child-development studies from the 3100s G.E. "Yes, I was just agreeing with you,"
he said lamely.
"The point is, I can write my book as well on Terminus as anywhere else. And yes,
Leyel, you are supposed to believe that I'm happy to go with you, because I said it,
and therefore it's so."
"I believe that you believe it. I also believe that in your heart you are very
glad that I was turned down, and you don't want me to pursue this matter any further
so there'll be no chance of your having to go to the godforsaken end of the
universe."
Those had been her words, months ago, when he first proposed applying to join the
Seldon Foundation. "We'd have to go to the godforsaken end of the universe!" She
remembered now as well as he did. "You'll hold that against me forever, won't you! I
think I deserve to be forgiven my first reaction. I did consent to go, didn't I?"
"Consent, yes. But you never wanted to."
"Well, Leyel, that's true enough. I never wanted to. Is that your idea of what our
marriage means? That I'm to subsume myself in you so deeply that even your desires
become my own? I thought it was enough that from time to time we consent to
sacrifice for each other. I never expected you to want to leave the Forska estates
and come to Trantor when I needed to do my research here. I only asked you to do
it-- whether you wanted to or not-- because I wanted it. I recognized and respected
your sacrifice. I am very angry to discover that my sacrifice is despised."
"Your sacrifice remains unmade. We are still on Trantor."
"Then by all means, go to Hari Seldon, plead with him, humiliate yourself, and
then realize that what I told you is true. He doesn't want you to join his
Foundation and he will not allow you to go to Terminus."
"Are you so certain of that?"
"No, I'm not certain. It merely seems likely."
"I will go to Terminus, if he'll have me. I hope I don't have to go alone."
He regretted the words as soon as he said them. She froze as if she had been
slapped, a look of horror on her face. Then she turned and ran from the room. A few
moments later, he heard the chime announcing that the door of their apartment had
opened. She was gone.
No doubt to talk things over with one of her friends. Women have no sense of
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discretion. They cannot keep domestic squabbles to themselves. She will tell them
all the awful things I said, and they'll cluck and tell her it's what she must
expect from a husband, husbands demand that their wives make all the sacrifices, you
poor thing, poor poor Deet. Well, Leyel didn't begrudge her this barnyard of
sympathetic hens. It was part of human nature, he knew, for women to form a
perpetual conspiracy against the men in their lives. That was why women have always
been so certain that men also formed a conspiracy against them.
How ironic, he thought. Men have no such solace. Men do not bind themselves so
easily into communities. A man is always aware of the possibility of betrayal, of
conflicting loyalties. Therefore when a man does commit himself truly, it is a rare
and sacred bond, not to be cheapened by discussing it with others. Even a marriage,
even a good marriage like theirs-- his commitment might be absolute, but he could
never trust hers so completely.
Leyel had buried himself within the marriage, helping and serving and loving Deet
with all his heart. She was wrong, completely wrong about his coming to Trantor. He
hadn't come as a sacrifice, against his will, solely because she wanted to come. On
the contrary: because she wanted so much to come, he also wanted to come, changing
even his desires to coincide with hers. She commanded his very heart, because it was
impossible for him not to desire anything that would bring her happiness.
But she, no, she could not do that for him. If she went to Terminus, it would be
as a noble sacrifice. She would never let him forget that she hadn't wanted to. To
him, their marriage was his very soul. To Deet, their marriage was just a friendship
with sex. Her soul belonged as much to these other women as to him. By dividing her
loyalties, she fragmented them; none were strong enough to sway her deepest desires.
Thus he discovered what he supposed all faithful men eventually discover-- that no
human relationship is ever anything but tentative. There is no such thing as an
unbreakable bond between people. Like the particles in the nucleus of the atom. They
are bound by the strongest forces in the universe, and yet they can be shattered,
they can break.
Nothing can last. Nothing is, finally, what it once seemed to be. Deet and he had
had a perfect marriage until there came a stress that exposed its imperfection.
Anyone who thinks he has a perfect marriage, a perfect friendship, a perfect trust
of any kind, he only believes this because the stress that will break it has not yet
come. He might die with the illusion of happiness, but all he has proven is that
sometimes death comes before betrayal. If you live long enough, betrayal will
inevitably come.
Such were the dark thoughts that filled Leyel's mind as he made his way through
the maze of the city of Trantor. Leyel did not seal himself inside a private car
when he went about in the planet-wide city. He refused the trappings of wealth; he
insisted on experiencing the life of Trantor as an ordinary man. Thus his bodyguards
were under strict instructions to remain discreet, interfering with no pedestrians
except those carrying weapons, as revealed by a subtle and instantaneous scan.
It was much more expensive to travel through the city this way, of course-- every
time he stepped out the door of his simple apartment, nearly a hundred high-paid
bribeproof employees went into action. A weaponproof car would have been much
cheaper. But Leyel was determined not to be imprisoned by his wealth.
So he walked through the corridors of the city, riding cabs and tubes, standing in
lines like anyone else. He felt the great city throbbing with life around him. Yet
such was his dark and melancholy mood today that the very life of the city filled
him with a sense of betrayal and loss. Even you, great Trantor, the Imperial City,
even you will be betrayed by the people who made you. Your empire will desert you,
and you will become a pathetic remnant of yourself, plated with the metal of a
thousand worlds and asteroids as a reminder that once the whole galaxy promised to
serve you forever, and now you are abandoned. Hari Seldon had seen it. Hari Seldon
understood the changeability of humankind. He knew that the great empire would fall,
and so-- unlike the government, which depended on things remaining the same
forever-- Hari Seldon could actually take steps to ameliorate the Empire's fall, to
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prepare on Terminus a womb for the rebirth of human greatness. Hari was creating the
future. It was unthinkable that he could mean to cut Leyel Forska out of it.
The Foundation, now that it had legal existence and Imperial funding, had quickly
grown into a busy complex of offices in the four-thousand-year-old Putassuran
Building. Because the Putassuran was originally built to house the Admiralty shortly
after the great victory whose name it bore, it had an air of triumph, of monumental
optimism about it-- rows of soaring arches, a vaulted atrium with floating bubbles
of light rising and dancing in channeled columns of air. In recent centuries the
building had served as a site for informal public concerts and lectures, with the
offices used to house the Museum Authority. It had come empty only a year before
Hari Seldon was granted the right to form his Foundation, but it seemed as though it
had been built for this very purpose. Everyone was hurrying this way and that,
always seeming to be on urgent business, and yet also happy to be part of a noble
cause. There had been no noble causes in the Empire for a long, long time.
Leyel quickly threaded his way through the maze that protected the Foundation's
director from casual interruption. Other men and women, no doubt, had tried to see
Hari Seldon and failed, put off by this functionary or that. Hari Seldon is a very
busy man. Perhaps if you make an appointment for later. Seeing him today is out of
the question. He's in meetings all afternoon and evening. Do call before coming next
time.
But none of th
is happened to Leyel Forska. All he had to do was say, "Tell Mr.
Seldon that Mr. Forska wishes to continue a conversation." However much awe they
might have of Hari Seldon, however they might intend to obey his orders not to be
disturbed, they all knew that Leyel Forska was the universal exception. Even Linge
Chen would be called out of a meeting of the Commission of Public Safety to speak
with Forska, especially if Leyel went to the trouble of coming in person.
The ease with which he gained entry to see Hari, the excitement and optimism of
the people, of the building itself, had encouraged Leyel so much that he was not at
all prepared for Hari's first words.
"Leyel, I'm surprised to see you. I thought you would understand that my message
was final."
It was the worst thing that Hari could possibly have said. Had Deet been right
after all? Leyel studied Hari's face for a moment, trying to see some sign of
change. Was all that had passed between them through the years forgotten now? Had
Hari's friendship never been real? No. Looking at Hari's face, a bit more lined and
wrinkled now, Leyel saw still he same earnestness, the same plain honesty that had
always been there. So instead of expressing the rage and disappointment that he
felt, Leyel answered carefully, leaving the way open for Hari to change his mind. "I
understood that your message was deceptive, and therefore could not be final."
Hari looked a little angry. "Deceptive?"
"I know which men and women you've been taking into your Foundation. They are not
second-raters."
"Compared to you they are," said Hari. "They're academics, which means they're
clerks. Sorters and interpreters of information."
"So am I. So are all scholars today. Even your inestimable theories arose from
sorting through a trillion bytes of data and interpreting it."
Hari shook his head. "I didn't just sort through data. I had an idea in my head.
So did you. Few others do. You and I are expanding human knowledge. Most of the rest
are only digging it up in one place and piling it in another. That's what the
Encyclopedia Galactica is. A new pile."
"Nevertheless, Hari, you know and I know that this is not the real reason you
turned me down. And don't tell me that it's because Leyel Forska's presence on
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