Prelude to Foundation

“Yes, Davan, we gathered as much ourselves. But how did you find it?”

“A heat-seeker. I have a device that detects infra-red radiation, the particular thermal pattern that is given off at thirty-seven degrees Celsius. It will react to the presence of human beings and not to other heat sources. It reacted to you three.”

Dors was frowning. “What good is that on Trantor, where there are human beings everywhere? They have them on other worlds, but-”

Davan said, “But not on Trantor. I know. Except that they are useful in the slums, in the forgotten, decaying corridors and alleyways.”

“And where did you get it?” asked Seldon.

Davan said, “It’s enough that I have it.-But we’ve got to get you away, Master Seldon. Too many people want you and I want my powerful friend to have you.”

“Where is he, this powerful friend of yours?”

“He’s approaching. At least a new thirty-seven-degree source is registering and I don’t see that it can be anyone else.”

Through the door strode a newcomer, but Seldon’s glad exclamation died on his lips. It was not Chetter Hummin.

Wye

WYE-… A sector of the world-city of Trantor… In the latter centuries of the Galactic Empire, Wye was the strongest and stablest portion of the world-city. Its rulers had long aspired to the Imperial throne, justifying that by their descent from early Emperors. Under Mannix IV, Wye was militarized and (Imperial authorities later claimed) was planning a planet-wide coup.

Encyclopedia Galactica

82.

The man who entered was tall and muscular. He had a long blond mustache that curled up at the tips and a fringe of hair that went down the sides of his face and under his chin, leaving the point of his chin and his lower lip smoothly bare and seeming a little moist. His head was so closely cropped and his hair was so light that, for one unpleasant moment, Seldon was reminded of Mycogen. The newcomer wore what was unmistakably a uniform. It was red and white and about his waist was a wide belt decorated with silver studs. His voice, when he spoke, was a rolling bass and its accent was not like any that Seldon had heard before. Most unfamiliar accents sounded uncouth in Seldon’s experience, but this one seemed almost musical, perhaps because of the richness of the low tones.

“I am Sergeant Emmer Thalus,” he rumbled in a slow succession of syllables. “I have come seeking Dr. Hari Seldon.”

Seldon said, “I am he.” In an aside to Dors, he muttered, “if Hummin couldn’t come himself, he certainly sent a magnificent side of beef to represent him.”

The sergeant favored Seldon with a stolid and slightly prolonged look. Then he said, “Yes. You have been described to me. Please come with me, Dr. Seldon.”

Seldon said, “Lead the way.”

The sergeant stepped backward. Seldon and Dors Venabili stepped forward. The sergeant stopped and raised a large hand, palm toward Dors. “I have been instructed to take Dr. Hari Seldon with me. I have not been instructed to take anyone else.”

For a moment, Seldon looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then his look of surprise gave way to anger. “It’s quite impossible that you have been told that, Sergeant. Dr. Dors Venabili is my associate and my companion. She must come with me.”

“That is not in accordance with my instructions, Doctor.”

“I don’t care about your instructions in any way, Sergeant Thalus. I do not budge without her.”

“What’s more,” said Dors with clear irritation, “my instructions are to protect Dr. Seldon at all times. I cannot do that unless I am with him. Therefore, where he goes, I go.”

The sergeant looked puzzled. “My instructions are strict that I see to it that no harm comes to you, Dr. Seldon. If you will not come voluntarily, I must carry you to my vehicle. I will try to do so gently.” He extended his two arms as though to seize Seldon by the waist and carry him off bodily.

Seldon skittered backward and out of reach. As he did so, the side of his right palm came down on the sergeant’s right upper arm where the muscles were thinnest, so that he struck the bone.

The sergeant drew a sudden deep breath and seemed to shake himself a bit, but turned, face expressionless, and advanced again. Davan, watching, remained where he was, motionless, but Raych moved behind the sergeant.

Seldon repeated his palm stroke a second time, then a third, but now Sergeant Thalus, anticipating the blow, lowered his shoulder to catch it on hard muscle. Dors had drawn her knives.

“Sergeant,” she said forcefully. “Turn in this direction, I want you to understand I may be forced to hurt you severely if you persist in attempting to carry Dr. Seldon off against his will.”