Forward the Foundation

"Out of curiosity? Sure. I'd like to see what's happened to the old place."

"Can you spare the time from your studies?"

"Sure. I'll never miss a week or so. Besides, you can tape the lectures and I'll catch up when I get back. I can get permission. After all, my old man's on the faculty-unless you've been fired, Dad."

"Not yet. But I'm not thinking of this as a fun vacation."

"I'd be surprised if you did. I don't think you know what a fun vacation is, Dad. I'm surprised you know the phrase."

"Don't be impertinent. When you go there, I want you to meet with Laskin Joranum."

Raych looked startled. "How do I do that? I don't know where he's gonna be."

"He's going to be in Dahl. He's been asked to speak to the Dahl Sector Council with its new Joranumite members. We'll find out the exact day and you can go a few days earlier."

"And how do I get to see him, Dad? I don't figure he keeps open house."

"I don't, either, but I'll leave that up to you. You would have known how to do it when you were twelve. I hope your keen edge hasn't blunted too badly in the intervening years."

Raych smiled. "I hope not. But suppose I do see him. What then?"

"Well, find out what you can. What's he's really planning. What he's really thinking."

"Do you really think he's gonna tell me?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he does. You have the trick of inspiring confidence, you miserable youngster. Let's talk about it."

And so they did. Several times.

Seldon's thoughts were painful. He was not sure where all this was leading to, but he dared not consult Yugo Amaryl or Demerzel or (most of all) Dors. They might stop him. They might prove to him that his idea was a poor one and he didn't want that proof. What he planned seemed the only gateway to salvation and he didn't want it blocked.

But did the gateway exist at all? Raych was the only one, it seemed to Seldon, who could possibly manage to worm himself into Joranum's confidence, but was Raych the proper tool for the purpose? He was a Dahlite and sympathetic to Joranum. How far could Seldon trust him?

Horrible? Raych was his son-and Seldon had never had occasion to mistrust Raych before.

13

If Seldon doubted the efficacy of his notion, if he feared that it might explode matters prematurely or move them desperately in the wrong direction, if he was filled with an agonizing doubt as to whether Raych could be entirely trusted to fulfill his part suitably, he nevertheless had no doubt-no doubt whatever-as to what Dors's reaction would be when presented with the fait accompli.

And he was not disappointed-if that was quite the word to express his emotion.

Yet, in a manner, he was disappointed, for Dors did not raise her voice in horror as he had somehow thought she would, as he had prepared himself to withstand.

But how was he to know? She was not as other women were and he had never seen her truly angry. Perhaps it was not in her to be truly angry-or what he would consider to be truly angry.

She was merely cold-eyed and spoke with low-voiced bitter disapproval. "You sent him to Dahl? Alone?" Very softly. Questioningly.

For a moment Seldon quailed at the quiet voice. Then he said firmly, "I had to. It was necessary."

"Let me understand. You sent him to that den of thieves, that haunt of assassins, that conglomeration of all that is criminal?"

"Dors! You anger me when you speak like that. I would expect only a bigot to use those stereotypes."

"You deny that Dahl is as I have described?"

"Of course. There are criminals and slums in Dahl. I know that very well. We both know that. But not all of Dahl is like that. And there are criminals and slums in every sector, even in the Imperial Sector and in Streeling."

"There are degrees, are there not? One is not ten. If all the worlds are crime-ridden, if all the sectors are crime-ridden, Dahl is among the worst, is it not? You have the computer. Check the statistics."

"I don't have to. Dahl is the poorest sector on Trantor and there is a positive correlation between poverty, misery, and crime. I grant you that."

"You grant me that! And you sent him alone? You might have gone with him, or asked me to go with him, or sent half a dozen of his schoolmates with him. They would have welcomed a respite from their work, I'm sure."

"What I need him for requires that he be alone."

"And what do you need him for?"

But Seldon was stubbornly silent about that.

Dors said, "Has it come to this? You don't trust me?"

"It's a gamble. I alone dare take the risk. I can't involve you or anyone else."

"But it's not you taking the risk. It's poor Raych."

"He's not taking any risk," said Seldon impatiently. "He's twenty years old, young and vigorous and as sturdy as a tree-and I don't mean the saplings we have here under glass on Trantor. I'm talking about a good solid tree in the Heliconian forests. And he's a twister, which the Dahlites aren't."