awful amount of wuhk in the science. Extwemely well-wead, in fact. I’ve gone thwough all of Jawdun, Obijasi, Kwomwill .?.?. oh, all of them, y’know.
“I’ve heard of them, of course,” said Hardin, “but I’ve never read them.”
“You should some day, my deah fellow. It would amply wepay you. Why, I cutainly considah it well wuhth the twip heah to the Pewiphewy to see this copy of Lameth. Would you believe it, my Libwawy totally lacks a copy. By the way, Doctah Piwenne, you have not fohgotten yoah pwomise to twans-develop a copy foah me befoah I leave?”
“Only too pleased.”
“Lameth, you must know,” continued the chancellor, pontifically, “pwesents a new and most intwesting addition to my pwevious knowledge of the ‘Owigin Question.’?”
“Which question?” asked Hardin.
“The ‘Owigin Question.’ The place of the owigin of the human species, y’know. Suahly you must know that it is thought that owiginally the human wace occupied only one planetawy system.”
“Well, yes, I know that.”
“Of cohse, no one knows exactly which system it is—lost in the mists of antiquity. Theah ah theawies, howevah. Siwius, some say. Othahs insist on Alpha Centauwi, oah on Sol, oah on 61 Cygni—all in the Siwius sectah, you see.”
“And what does Lameth say?”
“Well, he goes off along a new twail completely. He twies to show that ahchaeological wemains on the thuhd planet of the Ahctuwian System show that humanity existed theah befoah theah wah any indications of space-twavel.”
“And that means it was humanity’s birth planet?”
“P’haps. I must wead it closely and weigh the evidence befoah I can say foah cuhtain. One must see just how weliable his obsuhvations ah.”
Hardin remained silent for a short while. Then he said, “When did Lameth write his book?”
“Oh—I should say about eight hundwed yeahs ago. Of cohse, he has based it lahgely on the pwevious wuhk of Gleen.”
“Then why rely on him? Why not go to Arcturus and study the remains for yourself?”
Lord Dorwin raised his eyebrows and took a pinch of snuff hurriedly. “Why, whatevah foah, my deah fellow?”
“To get the information firsthand, of course.”
“But wheah’s the necessity? It seems an uncommonly woundabout and hopelessly wigmawolish method of getting anywheahs. Look heah, now, I’ve got the wuhks of all the old mastahs—the gweat ahchaeologists of the past. I wigh them against each othah—balance the disagweements—analyze the conflicting statements—decide which is pwobably cowwect—and come to a conclusion. That is the scientific method. At least”—patronizingly—“as
Hardin murmured politely, “I see.”
“Come, milord,” said Pirenne, “I think we had better be returning.”
“Ah, yes. P’haps we had.”
As they left the room, Hardin said suddenly, “Milord, may I ask a question?”
Lord Dorwin smiled blandly and emphasized his answer with a gracious flutter of the hand. “Cuhtainly, my deah fellow. Only too happy to be of suhvice. If I can help you in any way fwom my pooah stoah of knowledge —”
“It isn’t exactly about archaeology, milord.”
“No?”
“No. It’s this: Last year we received news here in Terminus about the meltdown of a power plant on Planet V of Gamma Andromeda. We got the barest outline of the accident—no details at all. I wonder if you could tell me exactly what happened.”
Pirenne’s mouth twisted. “I wonder you annoy his lordship with questions on totally irrelevant subjects.”
“Not at all, Doctah Piwenne,” interceded the chancellor. “It is quite all wight. Theah isn’t much to say concuhning it in any case. The powah plant did undergo meltdown and it was quite a catastwophe, y’know. I believe wadiatsen damage. Weally, the govuhnment is sewiously considewing placing seveah westwictions upon the indiscwiminate use of nucleah powah—though that is not a thing for genewal publication, y’know.”
“I understand,” said Hardin. “But what was wrong with the plant?”
“Well, weally,” replied Lord Dorwin indifferently, “who knows? It had bwoken down some yeahs pweviously and it is thought that the weplacements and wepaiah wuhk wuh most infewiah. It is
“You realize,” said Hardin, “that the independent kingdoms of the Periphery have lost nuclear power altogether?”
“Have they? I’m not at all suhpwised. Bahbawous planets—Oh, but my deah fellow, don’t call them independent. They ahn’t, y’know. The tweaties we’ve made with them ah pwoof positive of that. They acknowledge the soveweignty of the Empewah. They’d have to, of cohse, oah we wouldn’t tweat with them.”
“That may be so, but they have considerable freedom of action.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Considewable. But that scahcely mattahs. The Empiah is fah bettah off, with the Pewiphewy thwown upon its own wesoahces—as it is, moah oah less. They ahn’t any good to us, y’know.
“They were civilized in the past. Anacreon was one of the richest of the outlying provinces. I understand it compared favorably with Vega itself.”
“Oh, but, Hahdin, that was centuwies ago. You can scahcely dwaw conclusion fwom that. Things wah diffewent in the old gweat days. We ahn’t the men we used to be, y’know. But, Hahdin, come, you ah a most puhsistent chap. I’ve told you I simply won’t discuss business today. Doctah Piwenne did pwepayah me foah you. He told me you would twy to badgah me, but I’m fah too old a hand foah that. Leave it foah next day.”
And that was that.
5
This was the second meeting of the Board that Hardin had attended, if one were to exclude the informal talks the Board members had had with the now-departed Lord Dorwin. Yet the mayor had a perfectly definite idea that at least one other, and possibly two or three, had been held, to which he had somehow never received an invitation.
Nor, it seemed to him, would he have received notification of this one had it not been for the ultimatum.
At least, it amounted to an ultimatum, though a superficial reading of the visigraphed document would lead one to suppose that it was a friendly interchange of greetings between two potentates.
Hardin fingered it gingerly. It started off floridly with a salutation from “His Puissant Majesty, the King of Anacreon, to his friend and brother, Dr. Lewis Pirenne, Chairman of the Board of Trustees, of the Encyclopedia Foundation Number One,” and it ended even more lavishly with a gigantic, multicolored seal of the most involved symbolism.
But it was an ultimatum just the same.
Hardin said: “It turned out that we didn’t have much time after all—only three months. But little as it was, we threw it away unused. This thing here gives us a week. What do we do now?”
Pirenne frowned worriedly. “There must be a loophole. It is absolutely unbelievable that they would push matters to extremities in the face of what Lord Dorwin has assured us regarding the attitude of the Emperor and
