He said, “What will happen to psychohistory when I’m gone? Have you thought of that?”
“Yes, I have. And I want to speak to you about it. It may please you. Yugo, I believe that psychohistory is being revolutionized.”
Amaryl frowned slightly. “In what way? I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Listen. It was your idea. Years ago, you told me that two Foundations should be established. Separate— isolated and safe—and arranged so that they would serve as nuclei for an eventual Second Galactic Empire. Do you remember? That was your idea.”
“The psychohistoric equations—”
“I know. They suggested it. I’m busy working on it now, Yugo. I’ve managed to wangle an office in the Galactic Library—”
“The Galactic Library.” Amaryl’s frown deepened. “I don’t like them. A bunch of self-satisfied idiots.”
“The Chief Librarian, Las Zenow, is not so bad, Yugo.”
“Did you ever meet a Librarian named Mummery, Gennaro Mummery?”
“No, but I’ve heard of him.”
“A miserable human being. We had an argument once when he claimed I had misplaced something or other. I had done no such thing and I grew very annoyed, Hari. All of a sudden I was back in Dahl. —One thing about the Dahlite culture, Hari, it is a cesspool of invective. I used some of it on him and I told him he was interfering with psychohistory and he would go down in history as a villain. I didn’t just say ‘villain,’ either.” Amaryl chuckled faintly. “I left him speechless.”
Suddenly Seldon could see where Mummery’s animosity toward outsiders and, most probably, psychohistory must come from—at least, in part—but he said nothing.
“The point is, Yugo, you wanted two Foundations, so that if one failed, the other would continue. But we’ve gone beyond that.”
“In what way?”
“Do you remember that Wanda was able to read your mind two years ago and see that something was wrong with a portion of the equations in the Prime Radiant?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, we will find others like Wanda. We will have one Foundation that will consist largely of physical scientists, who will preserve the knowledge of humanity and serve as the nucleus for the Second Empire. And there will be a Second Foundation of psychohistorians only—mentalists, mind-touching psychohistorians—who will be able to work on psychohistory in a multi-minded way, advancing it far more quickly than individual thinkers ever could. They will serve as a group who will introduce fine adjustments as time goes on, you see. Ever in the background, watching. They will be the Empire’s guardians.”
“Wonderful!” said Amaryl weakly. “Wonderful! You see how I’ve chosen the right time to die? There’s nothing left for me to do.”
“Don’t say that, Yugo.”
“Don’t make such a fuss over it, Hari. I’m too tired to do anything. Thank you—thank you—for telling me”— his voice was weakening—“about the revolution. It makes me—happy—happy—hap—”
And those were Yugo Amaryl’s last words.
Seldon bent over the bed. Tears stung his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
Another old friend gone. Demerzel, Cleon, Dors, now Yugo .?.?. leaving him emptier and lonelier as he grew old.
And the revolution that had allowed Amaryl to die happy might never come to pass. Could he manage to make use of the Galactic Library? Could he find more people like Wanda? Most of all, how long would it take?
Seldon was sixty-six. If only he could have started this revolution at thirty-two when he first came to Trantor.?.?.?.
Now it might be too late.
10
Gennaro Mummery was making him wait. It was a studied discourtesy, even insolence, but Hari Seldon remained calm.
After all, Seldon needed Mummery badly and for him to become angry with the Librarian would only hurt himself. Mummery would, in fact, be delighted with an angry Seldon.
So Seldon kept his temper and waited and eventually Mummery did walk in. Seldon had seen him before—but only at a distance. This was the first time they would be together alone.
Mummery was short and plump, with a round face and a dark little beard. He wore a smile on his face, but Seldon suspected that smile of being a meaningless fixture. It revealed yellowish teeth and Mummery’s inevitable hat was of a similar shade of yellow with a brown line snaking around it.
Seldon felt a touch of nausea. It seemed to him that he would dislike Mummery, even if he had no reason to do so.
Mummery said, without any preliminaries, “Well, Professor, what can I do for you?” He looked at the time- strip on the wall but made no apology for being late.
Seldon said, “I would like to ask you, sir, to put an end to your opposition to my remaining here at the Library.”
Mummery spread his hands. “You’ve been here for two years. What opposition are you speaking of?”
“So far, that portion of the Board represented by you and those who believe as you do have been unable to outvote the Chief Librarian, but there will be another meeting next month and Las Zenow tells me he is uncertain of the result.”
Mummery shrugged. “So am I uncertain. Your lease—if we can call it that—may well be renewed.”
“But I need more than that, Librarian Mummery. I wish to bring in some colleagues. The project in which I am engaged—the establishment of what is needed in the way of the eventual preparation of a very special Encyclopedia—is not one I can do alone.”
“Surely your colleagues can work wherever they please. Trantor is a large world.”
“We must work in the Library. I am an old man, sir, and I am in a hurry.”
“Who can stay the advance of time? I don’t think the Board will allow you to bring in colleagues. The thin edge of the wedge, Professor?”
(Yes, indeed, thought Seldon, but he said nothing.)
Mummery said, “I have not been able to keep you out, Professor. Not so far. But I think I can continue to keep out your colleagues.”
Seldon realized that he was getting nowhere. He opened the touch of frankness a notch. He said, “Librarian Mummery, surely your animosity toward me is not personal. Surely you understand the importance of the work I am doing.”
“You mean, your psychohistory. Come, you have been working on it for over thirty years. What has come of it?”
“That’s the point. Something may come of it now.”
“Then let something come of it at Streeling University. Why must it be at the Galactic Library?”
“Librarian Mummery. Listen to me. What you want is to close the Library to the public. You wish to smash a long tradition. Have you the heart to do that?”
“It’s not heart we need. It’s funding. Surely the Chief Librarian has wept on your shoulder in telling you our woes. Appropriations are down, salaries are cut, needed maintenance is absent. What are we to do? We’ve got to cut services and we certainly can’t afford to support you and your colleagues with offices and equipment.”
“Has this situation been put to the Emperor?”
“Come, Professor, you’re dreaming. Isn’t it true that your psychohistory tells you that the Empire is deteriorating? I’ve heard you referred to as Raven Seldon, something that, I believe, refers to a fabled bird of ill omen.”
“It’s true that we are entering bad times.”
