Foundation

"Hmph. I seem to remember Wienis the time I was on Anacreon, when we kicked them off Terminus. It was before your time. Let's see now. If I remember, he was a dark young fellow, black hair and a squint in his right eye. He had a funny hook in his nose."

"Same fellow. The hook and the squint are still there, but his hair's gray now. He plays the game dirty. Luckily, he's the most egregious fool on the planet. Fancies himself as a shrewd devil, too, which mades his folly the more transparent."

"That's usually the way."

"His notion of cracking an egg is to shoot a nuclear blast at it. Witness the tax on Temple property he tried to impose just after the old king died two years ago. Remember?"

Hardin nodded thoughtfully, then smiled. "The priests raised a howl."

"They raised one you could hear way out to Lucreza. He's shown more caution in dealing with the priesthood since, but he still manages to do things the hard way. In a way, it's unfortunate for us; he has unlimited self-confidence."

"Probably an over-compensated inferiority complex. Younger sons of royalty get that way, you know."

"But it amounts to the same thing. He's foaming at the mouth with eagerness to attack the Foundation. He scarcely troubles to conceal it. And he's in a position to do it, too, from the standpoint of armament. The old king built up a magnificent navy, and Wienis hasn't been sleeping the last two years. In fact, the tax on Temple property was originally intended for further armament, and when that fell through he increased the income tax twice."

"Any grumbling at that?"

"None of serious importance. Obedience to appointed authority was the text of every sermon in the kingdom for weeks. Not that Wienis showed any gratitude."

"All right. I've got the background. Now what's happened?"

"Two weeks ago an Anacreonian merchant ship came across a derelict battle cruiser of the old Imperial Navy. It must have been drifting in space for at least three centuries."

Interest flickered in Hardin's eyes. He sat up. "Yes, I've heard of that. The Board of Navigation has sent me a petition asking me to obtain the ship for purposes of study. It is in good condition, I understand."

"In entirely too good condition," responded Verisof, dryly. "When Wienis received your suggestion last week that he turn the ship over to the Foundation, he almost had convulsions."

"He hasn't answered yet."

"He won't - except with guns, or so he thinks. You see, he came to me on the day I left Anacreon and requested that the Foundation put this battle cruiser into fighting order and turn it over to the Anacreonian navy. He had the infernal gall to say that your note of last week indicated a plan of the Foundation's to attack Anacreon. He said that refusal to repair the battle cruiser would confirm his suspicions; and indicated that measures for the self-defense of Anacreon would be forced upon him. Those are his words. Forced upon him! And that's why I'm here."

Hardin laughed gently.

Verisof smiled and continued, "Of course, he expects a refusal, and it would be a perfect excuse - in his eyes - for immediate attack."

"I see that, Verisof. Well, we have at least six months to spare, so have the ship fixed up and present it with my compliments. Have it renamed the Wienis as a mark of our esteem and affection."

He laughed again.

And again Verisof responded with the faintest trace of a smile, "I suppose it's the logical step, Hardin - but I'm worried."

"What about?"

"It's a ship! They could build in those days. Its cubic capacity is half again that of the entire Anacreonian navy. It's got nuclear blasts capable of blowing up a planet, and a shield that could take a Q-beam without working up radiation. Too much of a good thing, Hardin -"

"Superficial, Verisof, superficial. You and I both know that the armament he now has could defeat Terminus handily, long before we could repair the cruiser for our own use. What does it matter, then, if we give him the cruiser as well? You know it won't ever come to actual war."

"I suppose so. Yes." The ambassador looked up. "But Hardin -"

"Well? Why do you stop? Go ahead."

"Look. This isn't my province. But I've been reading the paper." He placed the Journal on the desk and indicated the front page. "What's this all about?"

Hardin dropped a casual glance. "'A group of Councilmen are forming a new political party."'

"That's what it says." Verisof fidgeted. "I know you're in better touch with internal matters than I am, but they're attacking you with everything short of physical violence. How strong are they?"

"Damned strong. They'll probably control the Council after next election."

"Not before?" Verisof looked at the mayor obliquely. "There are ways of gaining control besides elections."

"Do you take me for Wienis?"