Forward the Foundation

with Wanda, either working on the Prime Radiant, absorbed in mentalic research, or searching for others like them. But if he had wanted, Seldon could have found another young man—a University student or a Project member—to act as his bodyguard.

However, Seldon knew that a bodyguard was no longer necessary. Since the much publicized hearing and the reestablishment of ties with the Galactic Library, the Commission for Public Safety had taken a keen interest in Seldon. Seldon knew that he was being followed; he had caught sight of his “shadow” on a number of occasions in the past few months. He also had no doubt that his home and office had been infiltrated by listening devices, but he himself activated a static shield whenever he engaged in sensitive communications.

Seldon was not sure what the Commission thought of him—perhaps they were not yet sure themselves. Regardless of whether they believed him to be a prophet or a crackpot, they made it their business to know where he was at all times—and that meant that, until the Commission deemed otherwise, at all times Seldon was safe.

A light breeze billowed the deep blue cloak Seldon had draped over his unisuit and ruffled the few wispy white hairs remaining on his head. He glanced down over the railing, taking in the seamless steel blanket below. Beneath that blanket, Seldon knew, rumbled the machinery of a vastly complicated world. If the dome were transparent, one would see ground-cars racing, gravicabs swooshing through an intricate network of interconnecting tunnels, space hyperships being loaded and unloaded with grain and chemicals and jewels bound for and from practically every world of the Empire.

Below the gleaming metal cover, the lives of forty billion people were being conducted, with all the attendant pain, joy, and drama of human life. It was an image he loved dearly—this panorama of human achievement—and it pierced his heart to know that, in just a few centuries, all that now lay before him would be in ruins. The great dome would be ripped and scarred, torn away to reveal the desolate wasteland of what was once the seat of a thriving civilization. He shook his head in sadness, for he knew there was nothing he could do to prevent that tragedy. But, as Seldon foresaw the ruined dome, he also knew that from the ground laid bare by the last battles of the Empire living shoots would spring and somehow Trantor would reemerge as a vital member of the new Empire. The Plan saw to that.

Seldon lowered himself onto one of the benches ringing the deck’s perimeter. His leg was throbbing painfully; the exertion of the trip had been a bit much. But it had been worth it to gaze once again at Trantor, to feel the open air around him and see the vast sky above.

Seldon thought wistfully of Wanda. He rarely saw his granddaughter at all anymore and invariably Stettin Palver was present when he did. In the three months since Wanda and Palver had met, they seemed to be inseparable. Wanda assured Seldon that the constant involvement was necessary for the Project, but Seldon suspected it went deeper than mere devotion to one’s job.

He remembered the telltale signs from his early days with Dors. It was there in the way the two young people looked at each other, with an intensity born not only of intellectual stimulation but emotional motivation as well.

Further, by their very natures, Wanda and Palver seemed to be more comfortable with each other than with other people. In fact, Seldon had discovered that when no one else was around, Wanda and Palver didn’t even talk to each other; their mentalic abilities were sufficiently advanced that they had no need of words to communicate.

The other Project members were not aware of Wanda’s and Palver’s unique talents. Seldon had felt it best to keep the mentalics’ work quiet, at least until their role in the Plan was firmly defined. Actually the Plan itself was firmly defined—but solely in Seldon’s mind. As a few more pieces fell into place, he would reveal his Plan to Wanda and Palver and someday, of necessity, to one or two others.

Seldon stood slowly, stiffly. He was due back at Streeling in an hour to meet Wanda and Palver. They had left word for him that they were bringing a great surprise. Another piece for the puzzle, Seldon hoped. He looked out one last time over Trantor and, before turning to make his way back to the gravitic repulsion elevator, smiled and softly said, “Foundation.”

34

Hari Seldon entered his office to find that Wanda and Palver had already arrived and were seated around the conference table at the far end of the room. As was usual with those two, the room was completely silent.

Then Seldon stopped short, noticing that a new fellow was sitting with them. How strange—out of politeness, Wanda and Palver usually reverted to standard speech when in the company of other people, yet none of the three was speaking.

Seldon studied the stranger—an odd-looking man, about thirty-five years old, with the myopic look of one caught up for too long in his studies. If it weren’t for a certain determined set to the stranger’s jaw, Seldon thought he might be dismissed as ineffectual, but that would obviously be a mistake. There was both strength and kindness in the man’s face. A trustworthy face, Seldon decided.

“Grandfather,” Wanda said, rising gracefully from her chair. Seldon’s heart ached as he looked at his granddaughter. She’d changed so much in the past few months, since the loss of her family. Whereas before she had always called him Grandpa, now it was the more formal Grandfather. In the past it seemed she could barely refrain from grins and giggles; lately her serene gaze was lightened only occasionally by a beatific smile. But—now as always—she was beautiful and that beauty was surpassed only by her stunning intellect.

“Wanda, Palver,” Seldon said, kissing the former on the cheek and slapping the latter on the shoulder.

“Hello,” Seldon said, turning to the stranger, who had also stood. “I am Hari Seldon.”

“I am most honored to meet you, Professor,” the man replied. “I am Bor Alurin.” Alurin offered a hand to Seldon in the archaic and, hence, most formal mode of greeting.

“Bor is a psychologist, Hari,” said Palver, “and a great fan of your work.”

“More important, Grandfather,” said Wanda, “Bor is one of us.”

“One of you?” Seldon looked searchingly from one to the other. “Do you mean?.?.?.??” Seldon’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes, Grandfather. Yesterday Stettin and I were walking through Ery Sector, getting out and around, as you’d suggested, probing for others. All of a sudden—wham!—there it was.”

“We recognized the thought patterns immediately and began to look around, trying to establish a link,” Palver said, taking up the story. “We were in a commercial area, near the spaceport, so the walkways were clogged with shoppers and tourists and Outworld traders. It seemed hopeless, but then Wanda simply stopped and signaled Come here and out of the crowd Bor appeared. He just walked up to us and signaled Yes?”

“Amazing,” Seldon said, beaming at his granddaughter. “And Dr.—it is Doctor, isn’t it?—Alurin, what do you make of all this?”

“Well,” began the psychologist thoughtfully, “I am pleased. I’ve always felt different somehow and now I know why. And if I can be of any help to you, why—” The psychologist looked down at his feet, as if all of a sudden he realized he was being presumptuous. “What I mean is, Wanda and Stettin said I may be able to contribute in some way to your Psychohistory Project. Professor, nothing would please me more.”

“Yes yes. That’s quite true, Dr. Alurin. In fact, I think you may make a great contribution to the Project—if you’ll join me. Of course, you’ll have to give up whatever it is you do now, whether it is teaching or private practice. Can you manage that?”

“Why, yes, Professor, of course. I may need a little help convincing my wife—” At this he chuckled slightly, glancing shyly at each of his three companions in turn. “But I seem to have a way with that.”

“So it’s set, then,” said Seldon briskly. “You will join the Psychohistory Project. I promise you, Dr. Alurin, this is a decision you will not regret.”

“Wanda, Stettin,” Seldon said later, after Bor Alurin had left. “This is a most welcome breakthrough. How quickly do you think you can find more mentalics?”

“Grandfather, it took us over a month to locate Bor—we cannot predict with what frequency others will be