Forward the Foundation

"It's ours, too, but the kid believes it. He talks about equality and popular participation in government. He even mentioned democracy."

Namarti snickered. "In twenty thousand years, democracy has never been used for very long without falling apart."

"Yes, but that's not our concern. It's what drives the young man and I tell you, Chief, I knew we had our tool just about the moment I saw him, but I didn't know how we could possibly use him. Now I know. We can get him onto the Imperial Palace grounds as a gardener."

"How? Does he know anything about gardening?"

"No. I'm sure he doesn't. He's never worked at anything but unskilled labor. He's operating a hauler right now and I think that he had to be taught how to do that. Still, if we can get him in as a gardener's helper, if he just knows how to hold a pair of shears, then we've got it."

"Got what?"

"Got someone who can approach anyone we wish-and do so without raising the flutter of a suspicion-and get close enough to strike. I'm telling you he simply exudes a kind of honorable stupidity, a kind of foolish virtue that inspires confidence."

"And he'll do what we tell him to do?"

"Absolutely."

"How did you meet this person?"

"It wasn't I. It was Manella who really spotted him."

"Who?"

"Manella. Manella Dubanqua."

"Oh. That friend of yours." Namarti's face twisted into a look of prissy disapproval.

"She's the friend of many people," said Andorin tolerantly. "That's one of the things that makes her so useful. She can weigh a man quickly and with very little to go on. She talked to this fellow because she was attracted to him at sight-and I assure you that Manella is not one who is usually attracted by anything but the bottom line-so, you see, this man is rather unusual. She talked to this fellow-his name is Planchet, by the way-and then told me, 'I have a live one for you, Gleb.' I'll trust her on the matter of live ones any day of the week."

Namarti said slyly, "And what do you think this wonderful tool of yours would do once he had the run of the grounds, eh, Andorin?"

Andorin took a deep breath. "What else? If we do everything right, he will dispose of our dear Emperor Cleon, First of that Name, for us."

Namarti's face blazed into anger. "What? Are you mad? Why should we want to kill Cleon? He's our hold on the government. He's the facade behind which we can rule. He's our passport to legitimacy. Where are your brains? We need him as a figurehead. He won't interfere with us and we'll be stronger for his existence."

Andorin's fair face turned blotchy red and his good humor finally exploded. "What do you have in mind, then? What are you planning? I'm getting tired of always having to second-guess."

Namarti raised his hand. "All right. All right. Calm down. I meant no harm. But think a bit, will you? Who destroyed Joranum? Who destroyed our hopes ten years ago? It was that mathematician. And it is he who rules the Empire now with his idiotic talk about psychohistory. Cleon is nothing. It is Hari Seldon we must destroy. It is Hari Seldon whom I've been turning into an object of ridicule with these constant breakdowns. The miseries they entail are placed at his doorstep. It is all being interpreted as his inefficiency, his incapacity." There was a trace of spittle in the corners of Namarti's mouth. "When he's cut down, there will be a cheer from the Empire that will drown out every holovision report for hours. It won't even matter if they know who did it." He raised his hand and let it drop, as if he were plunging a knife into someone's heart. "We will be looked upon as heroes of the Empire, as saviors. Eh? Eh? Do you think your youngster can cut down Hari Seldon?"

Andorin had recovered his sense of equanimity-at least outwardly.

"I'm sure he would," he said with forced lightness. "For Cleon, he might have some respect; the Emperor has a mystical aura about him, as you know." (He stressed the "you" faintly and Namarti scowled.) "He would have no such feelings about Seldon."

Inwardly, however, Andorin was furious. This was not what he wanted. He was being betrayed.

14

Manella brushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled up at Raych. "I told you it wouldn't cost you any credits."

Raych blinked and scratched at his bare shoulder. "But are you going to ask me for some now?"

She shrugged and smiled rather impishly. "Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because I'm allowed to take my own pleasure sometimes."

"With me?"

"There's no one else here."

There was a long pause and then Manella said soothingly, "Besides, you don't have that many credits anyway. How's the job?"

Raych said, "Ain't much but better than nothing. Lots better. Did you tell that guy to get me one?"

Manella shook her head slowly. "You mean Gleb Andorin? I didn't tell him to do anything. I just said he might be interested in you."

"Is he going to be annoyed because you and I-"

"Why should he? None of his business. And none of yours, either."

"What's he do? I mean, what does he work at?"