Isaac Asimov - Foundation 1 Prelude to Foundation

Isaac Asimov

Prelude to Foundation

Foundation 1

PRELUDE TO FOUNDATION

MATHEMATICIAN

CLEON IThe last Galactic Emperor of the Entun dynasty. He wasborn in the year 11,988 of the Galactic Era, the same year in which HariSeldon was born. (It is thought that Seldon's birthdate, which someconsider doubtful, may have been adjusted to match that of Cleon, whomSeldon, soon after his arrival on Trantor, is supposed to haveencountered.) Having succeeded to the Imperial throne in 12,010 at theage of twenty-two, Cleon I's reign represented a curious interval of quietin those troubled times. This is undoubtedly due to the skills of his Chief ofStaff, Eto Demerzel, who so carefully obscured himself from public recordthat little is known about him. Cleon himself

ENCYLOPEDIA GALACTICA

(All quotations from the Encyclopedia Galactica here reproduced aretaken from the 116th Edition, published 1,020 FE by the EncyclopediaGalactica Publishing Co., Terminus, with permission of the publishers.)

Suppressing a small yawn, Cleon said, Demerzel, have you by any chance ever heard of a man named Hari Seldon?

Cleon had been Emperor for just over ten years and there were times at state occasions when, dressed in the necessary robes and regalia, he could manage to look stately. He did so, for instance, in the holograph of himself that stood in the niche in the wall behind him. It was placed so that it clearly dominated the other niches holding the holographs of several of his ancestors. The holograph was not a totally honest one, for though Cleon's hair was light brown in hologram and reality alike, it was a bit thicker in the holograph. There was a certain asymmetry to his real face, for the left side of his upper lip raised itself a bit higher than the right side, and this was somehow not evident in the holograph. And if he had stood up and placed himself beside the holograph, he would have been seen to be 2 centimeters under the 1.83-meter height that the image portrayedand perhaps a bit stouter. Of course, the holograph was the official coronation portrait and he had been younger then. He still looked young and rather handsome, too, and when he was not in the pitiless grip of official ceremony, there was a kind of vague good nature about his face.

Demerzel said, with the tone of respect that he carefully cultivated, Hari Seldon? It is an unfamiliar name to me, Sire. Ought I to know of him?

The Minister of Science mentioned him to me last night. I thought you might.

Demerzel frowned slightly, but only very slightly, for one does not frown in the Imperial presence. The Minister of Science, Sire, should have spoken of this man to me as Chief of Staff. If you are to be bombarded from every side

Cleon raised his hand and Demerzel stopped at once.

Please, Demerzel, one can't stand on formality at all times. When I passed the Minister at last night's reception and exchanged a few words with him, he bubbled over. I could not refuse to listen and I was glad I had, for it was interesting.

In what way interesting, Sire?

Well, these are not the old days when science and mathematics were all the rage. That sort of thing seems to have died down somehow, perhaps because all the discoveries have been made, don't you think? Apparently, however, interesting things can still happen. At least I was told it was interesting.

By the Minister of Science, Sire?

Yes. He said that this Hari Seldon had attended a convention of mathematicians held here in Trantorthey do this every ten years, for some reasonand he said that he had proved that one could foretell the future mathematically.

Demerzel permitted himself a small smile.

Either the Minister of Science, a man of little acumen, is mistaken or the mathematician is.

Surely, the matter of foretelling the future is a children's dream of magic.

Is it, Demerzel? People believe in such things.

People believe in many things, Sire.

But they believe in such things. Therefore, it doesn't matter whether the forecast of the future is true or not. If a mathematician should predict a long and happy reign for me, a time of peace and prosperity for the EmpireEh, would that not be well?

It would be pleasant to hear, certainly, but what would it accomplish, Sire?

But surely if people believe this, they would act on that belief. Many a prophecy, by the mere force of its being believed, is transmuted to fact. These are 'self-fulfilling prophecies.' Indeed, now that I think of it, it was you who once explained this to me.

Demerzel said, I believe I did, Sire. His eyes were watching the Emperor carefully, as though to see how far he might go on his own. Still, if that be so, one could have any person make the prophecy.

Not all persons would be equally believed, Demerzel. A mathematician, however, who could back his prophecy with mathematical formulas and terminology, might be understood by no one and yet believed by everyone.

Demerzel said, As usual, Sire, you make good sense. We live in troubled times and it would be worthwhile to calm them in a way that would require neither money nor military effortwhich, in recent history, have done little good and much harm.

Exactly, Demerzel, said the Emperor with excitement. Reel in this Hari Seldon. You tell me you have your strings stretching to every part of this turbulent world, even where my forces dare not go. Pull on one of those strings, then, and bring in this mathematician. Let me see him.

I will do so, Sire, said Demerzel, who had already located Seldon and who made a mental note to commend the Minister of Science for a job well done.

Hari Seldon did not make an impressive appearance at this time. Like the Emperor Cleon I, he was thirty-two years old, but he was only 1.73 meters tall. His face was smooth and cheerful, his hair dark brown, almost black, and his clothing had the unmistakable touch of provinciality about it.

To anyone in later times who knew of Hari Seldon only as a legendary demigod, it would seem almost sacrilegious for him not to have white hair, not to have an old lined face, a quiet smile radiating wisdom, not to be seated in a wheelchair. Even then, in advanced old age, his eyes had been cheerful, however. There was that.

And his eyes were particularly cheerful now, for his paper had been given at the Decennial Convention. It had even aroused some interest in a distant sort of way and old Osterfith had nodded his head at him and had said, Ingenious, young man. Most ingenious. Which, coming from Osterfith, was satisfactory. Most satisfactory.

But now there was a newand quite unexpecteddevelopment and Seldon wasn't sure whether it should increase his cheer and intensify his satisfaction or not. He stared at the tall young man in uniform the Spaceship-and-Sun neatly placed on the left side of his tunic.

Lieutenant Alban Wellis, said the officer of the Emperor's Guard before putting away his identification. Will you come with me now, sir?

Wellis was armed, of course. There were two other Guardsmen waiting outside his door.

Seldon knew he had no choice, for all the other's careful politeness, but there was no reason he could not seek information. He said, To see the Emperor?

To be brought to the Palace, sir. That's the extent of my instructions.

But why?

I was not told why, sir. And I have my strict instructions that you must come with meone way or another.