Foundation

"This goes beyond money, or markets. We have the science of the great Hari Seldon to prove that upon us depends the future empire of the Galaxy, and from the course that leads to that Imperium we cannot turn. The religion we have is our all-important instrument towards that end. With it we have brought the Four Kingdoms under our control, even at the moment when they would have crushed us. It is the most potent device known with which to control men and worlds.

"The primary reason for the development of trade and traders was to introduce and spread this religion more quickly, and to insure that the introduction of new techniques and a new economy would be subject to our thorough and intimate control."

He paused for breath, and Mallow interjected quietly, "I know the theory. I understand it entirely."

"Do you? It is more than I expected. Then you see, of course, that your attempt at trade for its own sake; at mass production of worthless gadgets, which can only affect a world's economy superficially; at the subversion of interstellar policy to the god of profits; at the divorce of nuclear power from our controlling religion - can only end with the overthrow and complete negation of the policy that has worked successfully for a century."

"And time enough, too," said Mallow, indifferently, "for a policy outdated, dangerous and impossible. However well your religion has succeeded in the Four Kingdoms, scarcely another world in the Periphery has accepted it. At the time we seized control of the Kingdoms, there were a sufficient number of exiles, Galaxy knows, to spread the story of how Salvor Hardin used the priesthood and the superstition of the people to overthrow the independence and power of the secular monarchs. And if that wasn't enough, the case of Askone two decades back made it plain enough. There isn't a ruler in the Periphery now that wouldn't sooner cut his own throat than let a priest of the Foundation enter the territory.

"I don't propose to force Korell or any other world to accept something I know they don't want. No, Sutt. If nuclear power makes them dangerous, a sincere friendship through trade will be many times better than an insecure overlordship, based on the hated supremacy of a foreign spiritual power, which, once it weakens ever so slightly, can only fall entirely and leave nothing substantial behind except an immortal fear and hate."

Suit said cynically, "Very nicely put. So, to get back to the original point of discussion, what are your terms? What do you require to exchange your ideas for mine?"

"You think my convictions are for sale?"

"Why not?" came the cold response. "Isn't that your business, buying and selling?"

"Only at a profit," said Mallow, unoffended. "Can you offer me more than I'm getting as is?"

"You could have three-quarters of your trade profits, rather than half."

Mallow laughed shortly, "A fine offer. The whole of the trade on your terms would fall far below - a tenth share on mine. Try harder than that."

"You could have a council seat."

"I'll have that anyway, without and despite you."

With a sudden movement, Sutt clenched his fist, "You could also save yourself a prison term. Of twenty years, if I have my way. Count the profit in that."

"No profit at all, but can you fulfill such a threat?"

"How about a trial for murder?"

"Whose murder?" asked Mallow, contemptuously.

Sutt's voice was harsh now, though no louder than before, "The murder of an Anacreonian priest, in the service of the Foundation."

"Is that so now? And what's your evidence?"

The secretary to the mayor leaned forward, "Mallow, I'm not bluffing. The preliminaries are over. I have only to sign one final paper and the case of the Foundation versus Hober Mallow, Master Trader, is begun. You abandoned a subject of the Foundation to torture and death at the hands of an alien mob, Mallow, and you have only five seconds to prevent the punishment due you. For myself, I'd rather you decided to bluff it out. You'd be safer as a destroyed enemy, than as a doubtfully-converted friend."

Mallow said solemnly, "You have your wish."

"Good!" and the secretary smiled savagely. "It was the mayor who wished the preliminary attempt at compromise, not I. Witness that I did not try too hard."

The door opened before him, and he left.

Mallow looked up as Ankor Jael re-entered the room.

Mallow said, "Did you hear him?"

The politician flopped to the floor. "I never heard him as angry as that, since I've known the snake."

"All right. What do you make of it?"

"Well, I'll tell you. A foreign policy of domination through spiritual means is his idee fixe, but it's my notion that his ultimate aims aren't spiritual. I was fired out of the Cabinet for arguing on the same issue, as I needn't tell you."

"You needn't. And what are those unspiritual aims according to your notion?"