Asimov’s Future History Volume 16

by Isaac Asimov

  “All of you!”

  “And you, Dad. And you. We wouldn’t leave you behind on Trantor. You’re coming with us to Santanni.”

  Seldon shook his head. “Impossible, Raych. You know that.”

  “Why impossible?”

  “You know why. The Project. My psychohistory. Are you asking me to abandon my life’s work?”

  “Why not? It’s abandoned you.”

  “You’re mad.”

  “No, I’m not. Where are you going with it? You have no credits. You can’t get any. There’s no one left on Trantor who’s willing to support you.”

  “For nearly forty years–”

  “Yes, I admit that. But after all that time, you’ve failed Dad. There’s no crime in failing. You’ve tried so hard and you’ve gone so far, but you’ve run into a deteriorating economy, a falling Empire. It’s the very thing you’ve been predicting for so long that’s stopping you at last. So–”

  “No. I will not stop. Somehow or other, I will keep going.”

  “I tell you what, Dad. If you’re really going to be so stubborn, then take psychohistory with you. Start it again on Santanni. There may be enough credits–and enthusiasm–to support it there.”

  “And the men and women who have been working for me so faithfully?”

  “Oh bull, Dad. They’ve been leaving you because you can’t pay them. You hang around here for the rest of your life and you’ll be alone.–Oh, come on, Dad. Do you think I like to talk to you this way? It’s because no one has wanted to–because no one has had the heart to–that you’re in your present predicament. Let’s be honest with each other now. When you walk the streets of Trantor and you’re attacked for no reason other than that you’re Hari Seldon, don’t you think it’s time for a little bit of truth?”

  “Never mind the truth. I have no intention of leaving Trantor.”

  Raych shook his head. “I was sure you’d be stubborn, Dad. You’ve got two months to change your mind. Think about it, will you?”

  15.

  IT HAD BEEN a long time since Hari Seldon had smiled. He had conducted the Project in the same fashion that he always did: pushing always forward in the development of psychohistory, making plans for the Foundation, studying the Prime Radiant.

  But he did not smile. All he did was to force himself through his work without any feeling of impending success. Rather, there was a feeling of impending failure about everything.

  And now, as he sat in his office at Streeling University, Wanda entered. He looked up at her and his heart lifted. Wanda had always been special. Seldon couldn’t put his finger on just when he and the others had started accepting her pronouncements with more than the usual enthusiasm; it just seemed always to have been that way. As a little girl, she had saved his life with her uncanny knowledge of “lemonade death” and all through her childhood she had somehow just known things.

  Although Dr. Endelecki had asserted that Wanda’s genome was perfectly normal in every way, Seldon was still positive that his granddaughter possessed mental abilities far beyond those of average humans. And he was just as sure that there were others like her in the Galaxy–on Trantor, even. If only he could find them, these mentalics, what a great contribution they could make to the Foundation. The potential for such greatness all centered in his beautiful granddaughter. Seldon gazed at her, framed in his office doorway, and he felt as if his heart would break. In a few days, she would be gone.

  How could he bear it? She was such a beautiful girl–eighteen. Long blond hair, face a little broad but with a tendency to smile. She was even smiling now and Seldon thought, Why not? She’s heading for Santanni and for a new life.

  He said, “Well, Wanda, just a few more days.”

  “No. I don’t think so, Grandpa.”

  He stared at her. “What?”

  Wanda approached him and put her arms around him. “I’m not going to Santanni.”

  “Have your father and mother changed their minds?”

  “No, they’re going.”

  “And you’re not? Why? Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to stay here, Grandpa. With you.” She hugged him. “Poor Grandpa!”

  “But I don’t understand. Why? Are they allowing this?”

  “You mean Mom and Dad. Not really. We’ve been arguing over this for weeks, but I’ve won out. Why not, Grandpa? They’ll go to Santanni and they’ll have each other–and they’ll have little Bellis, too. But if I go with them and leave you here, you’ll have no one. I don’t think I could stand that.”

  “But how did you get them to agree?”

  “Well, you know–I pushed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s my mind. I can see what you have in yours and in theirs and, as time goes on, I can see more clearly. And I can push them to do what I want.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “I don’t know. But after a while, they get tired of being pushed and they’re willing to let me have my way. So I’m going to stay with you.”

  Seldon looked up at her with helpless love. “This is wonderful, Wanda. But Bellis–”

  “Don’t worry about Bellis. She doesn’t have a mind like mine.”

  “Are you certain?” Seldon chewed at his lower lip.

  “Quite certain. Besides, Mom and Dad have to have someone, too.”

  Seldon wanted to rejoice, but he couldn’t do so openly. There were Raych and Manella. What of them?

  He said, “Wanda, what about your parents? Can you be so cold-blooded about them?”

  “I’m not cold-blooded. They understand. They realize I must be with you.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “I pushed,” said Wanda simply, “and eventually they came to see it my way.

  “You can do that?”

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  “And you did it because–” Seldon paused.

  Wanda said, “Because I love you. Of course. And because–”

  “Yes?”

  “I must learn psychohistory. I know quite a bit of it already.”

  “How?”

  “From your mind. From the minds of others at the Project, especially from Uncle Yugo before he died. But it’s in rags and tatters, so far. I want the real thing. Grandpa, I want a Prime Radiant of my own.” Her face lit up and her words came quickly, with passion. “I want to study psychohistory in great detail. Grandpa, you’re quite old and quite tired. I’m young and eager. I want to learn all I can, so I can carry on when–”

  Seldon said, “Well, that would be wonderful–if you could do it–but there is no funding anymore. I’ll teach you all I can, but–we can’t do anything.”

  “We’ll see, Grandpa. We’ll see.”

  16.

  RAYCH, MANELLA, AND little Bellis were waiting at the spaceport.

  The hypership was preparing for liftoff and the three had already checked their baggage.

  Raych said, “Dad, come along with us.”

  Seldon shook his head. “I cannot.”

  “If you change your mind, we will always have a place for you.”

  “I know it, Raych. We’ve been together for almost forty years–and they’ve been good years. Dors and I were lucky to find you.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” His eyes filled with tears. “Don’t think I don’t think of Mother every day.”

  “Yes.” Seldon looked away miserably. Wanda was playing with Bellis when the call rang out for everyone to board the hypership.

  They did, after a tearful last embrace of Wanda by her parents. Raych looked back to wave at Seldon and to try to plant a crooked smile on his face.

  Seldon waved and one hand moved out blindly to embrace Wanda’s shoulders.

  She was the only one left. One by one through his long life, he had lost his friends and those he had loved. Demerzel had left, never to return; Emperor Cleon was gone; his beloved Dors was gone; his faithful friend Yugo Amaryl was gone; and now Raych, his only son, was gone as
well.

  He was left only with Wanda.

  17.

  HARI SELDON SAID, “It is beautiful outside–a marvelous evening. Considering that we live under a dome, you would think we would have beautiful weather like this every evening.”

  Wanda said indifferently, “We would grow tired of it, Grandpa, if it were beautiful all the time. A little change from night to night is good for us.”

  “For you, because you’re young, Wanda. You have many, many evenings ahead of you. I don’t. I want more good ones.”

  “Now, Grandpa, you’re not old. Your leg is doing well and your mind m as sharp as ever. I know.”

  “Sure. Go ahead. Make me feel better.” He then said with an air of discomfort, “I want to walk. I want to get out of this tiny apartment and take a walk to the Library and enjoy this beautiful evening.”

  “What do you want at the Library?”

  “At the moment, nothing. I want the walk.–but...”

  “Yes. But?”

  “I promised Raych I wouldn’t go walking around Trantor without a bodyguard.”

  “Raych isn’t here.”

  “I know,” mumbled Seldon “but a promise is a promise.”

  “He didn’t say who the bodyguard should be, did he? Let’s go for a walk and I’ll be your bodyguard.”

  “You?” Seldon grinned.

  “Yes, me. I hereby volunteer my services. Get yourself ready and we’ll go for a walk.”

  Seldon was amused. He had half a mind to go without his cane, since his leg was scarcely painful of late, but, on the other hand, he had a new cane, one in which the head had been filled with lead. It was both heavier and stronger than his old cane and, if he was going to have none other than Wanda as a bodyguard, he thought he had better bring his new cane.

  The walk was delightful and Seldon was terribly glad he had given in to the temptation–until they reached a certain spot.

  Seldon lifted his cane in a mixture of anger and resignation and said, “Look at that!”

  Wanda lifted her eyes. The dome was glowing, as it always did in the evening, in order to lend an air of first twilight. It grew darker as night went on, of course.

  What Seldon was pointing at, however, was a strip of darkness along the dome. A section of lights had gone out.

  Seldon said, “When I first came to Trantor, anything like that was unthinkable. There were people tending the lights at all times. The city worked, but now it is falling apart in all these little ways and what bothers me most is that no one cares. Why aren’t there petitions to the Imperial Palace? Why aren’t there meetings of indignation? It is as though the people of Trantor expect the city to be falling apart and then they find themselves annoyed with me because I am pointing out that this is exactly what is happening.”

  Wanda said softly, “Grandpa, there are two men behind us.”

  They had walked into the shadows beneath the broken dome lights and Seldon asked, “Are they just walking?”

  “No.” Wanda did not look at them. She did not have to. “They’re after you.”

  “Can you stop them–push them?”

  “I’m trying, but there are two and they are determined. It’s–it’s like pushing a wall.”

  “How far behind me are they?”

  “About three meters.”

  “Closing in?”

  “Yes, Grandpa.”

  “Tell me when they’re a meter behind me.” He slid his hand down his cane till he was holding the thin end, leaving the leaded head swinging free.

  “Now, Grandpa!” hissed Wanda.

  And Seldon turned, swinging his cane. It came down hard upon the shoulder of one of the men behind him, who went down with a scream, writhing on the pavement.

  Seldon said, “Where’s the other guy?”

  “He took off.”

  Seldon looked down on the man on the ground and put his foot on his chest. He said, “Go through his pockets, Wanda. Someone must have paid him and I’d like to find his credit file–perhaps I can identify where they came from.” He added thoughtfully, “I meant to hit him on the head.”

  “You’d have killed him, Grandpa.”

  Seldon nodded. “It’s what I wanted to do. Rather shameful. I’m lucky I missed.”

  A harsh voice said, “What is all this?” A figure in uniform came running up, perspiring. “Give me that cane, you!”

  “Officer,” said Seldon mildly.

  “You can give me your story later. We’ve got to call an ambulance for this poor man.”

  “Poor man,” said Seldon angrily. “He was going to assault me. I acted in self-defense.”

  “I saw it happen,” said the security officer. “This guy never laid a finger on you. You turned on him and struck him without provocation. That’s not self-defense. That’s assault and battery.”

  “Officer, I’m telling you that–”

  “Don’t tell me anything. You can tell it in court.”

  Wanda said in a sweet small voice, “Officer, if you will just listen to us–”

  The officer said, “You go along home, young lady.”

  Wanda drew herself up. “I most certainly won’t, Officer. Where my grandfather goes, there go I.” Her eyes flashed and the security officer muttered, “Well, come along, then.”

  18.

  SELDON WAS ENRAGED. “I’ve never been in custody before in my entire life. A couple of months ago eight men assaulted me. I was able to fight them off with the help of my son, but while that was going on was there a security officer in sight? Did people stop to help me? No. This time, I’m better prepared and I knocked a man flat who had been about to assault me. Was there a security officer in sight? Absolutely. She put the collar on me. There were people watching, too, and they were amused at seeing an old man being taken in for assault and battery. What kind of world do we live on?”

  Civ Novker, Seldon’s lawyer, sighed and said calmly, “A corrupt world, but don’t worry. Nothing will happen to you. I’ll get you out on bail and then, eventually, you’ll come back for trial before a jury of your peers and the most you’ll get–the very most–are some hard words from the bench. Your age and your reputation–”

  “Forget my reputation,” said Seldon, still angry. “I’m a psychohistorian and, at the present time, that is a dirty word. They’ll be glad to see me in jail.”

  “No, they won’t,” said Novker. “There may be some screwballs who have it in for you, but I’ll see to it that none of them gets on the jury.”

  Wanda said, “Do we really have to subject my grandfather to all this? He’s not a young man anymore. Can’t we just appear before the magistrate and not bother with a jury trial?”

  The lawyer turned to her. “It can be done. If you’re insane, maybe. Magistrates are impatient power-mad people who would just as soon put a person into jail for a year as listen to him. No one goes up before a magistrate.”

  “I think we should,” said Wanda.

  Seldon said, “Well now, Wanda, I think we ought to listen to Civ–” But as he said that, he felt a strong churning in his abdomen. It was Wanda’s “push.” Seldon said, “Well–if you insist.”

  “She can’t insist,” said the lawyer. “I won’t allow it.”

  Wanda said, “My grandfather is your client. If he wants something done his way, you’ve got to do it.”

  “I can refuse to represent him.”

  “Well then, leave,” said Wanda sharply, “and we’ll face the magistrate alone.”

  Novker thought and said, “Very well, then–if you’re going to be so adamant. I’ve represented Hari for years and I suppose I won’t abandon him now. But I warn you, the chances are he’ll get a jail sentence and I’ll have to work like the devil to get it lifted–if I can do it. at all.”

  “I’m not afraid,” said Wanda.

  Seldon bit his lip and the lawyer turned to him. “What about you? Are you willing to let your granddaughter call the shots?”

  Seldon thought a bit, then admitte
d, much to the old lawyer’s surprise, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  19.

  THE MAGISTRATE LOOKED sourly at Seldon as he gave his story.

  The magistrate said, “What makes you think it was the intention of this man you struck to attack you? Did he strike you? Did he threaten you? Did he in any way place you under bodily fear?”

  “My granddaughter was aware of his approach and was quite certain that he was planning to attack me.”

  “Surely, sir, that cannot be enough. Is there anything else you can tell me before I pass judgment?”

  “Well now, wait a while,” said Seldon indignantly. “Don’t pass judgment so quickly. I was assaulted a few weeks ago by eight men whom I held off with the help of my son. So, you see, I have reason to think that I might be assaulted again.”

  The magistrate shuffled his papers. “Assaulted by eight men. Did you report that?”

  “There were no security officers around. Not one.”

  “Aside from the point. Did you report it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing, I was afraid of getting into long drawn-out legal proceedings. Since we had driven off eight men and were safe, it seemed useless to ask for more trouble.”

  “How did you manage to ward off eight men just you and your son?”

  Seldon hesitated. “My son is now on Santanni and outside Trantorian control. Thus, I can tell you that he had Dahlite knives and was expert in their use. He killed one man and badly hurt two others. The rest ran, carrying off the dead and wounded.”

  “But did you not report the death of a man and the wounding of two others?”

  “No, sir. Same reason as before. And we fought in self-defense. However, if you can track down the three dead and wounded, you will have evidence that we were attacked.”