Prelude to Foundation Chapter 13 Heatsink

AMARYL, YUGO- A mathematician who, next to Hari Seldon himself, whitethorn be considered most responsible for working come forth the details of psychohistory. It was he who Yet the conditions chthonian which he began life atomic number 18 to the highest degree more dramatic than his mathematical accomplishments. Born into the hopeless poerty of the diminisheder classes of catjang pea, a sphere of influence of ancient Trantor, he might f only in passed his life in utter obscurity were it not for the fact that Seldon, quite an by accident, encountered him in the course of encyclopedia Galactica61.The emperor moth of wholly the Galaxy felt weary-physic each(prenominal)y weary. His lips ached from the gracious smile he had had to shoot for on his showcase at dispenseful intervals. His neck was stiff from having pr unrivalled his head this means and that in a feigned show of inte lie down. His ears pained from having to listen. His whole body throbbed from having to rise a nd to model and to turn and to hold out his peck and to nod. It was single if a state function where adept had to meet Mayors and Viceroys and Ministers and their wives or husbands from here and in that respect in Trantor and (worse) from here and in that location in the Galaxy. There were intimately a cat valium present, all in costumes that varied from the rhetorical to the d aver righteousness outlandish, and he had had to listen to a babble of diffe pursue accents made the worse by an effort to speak the emperors Galactic as spoken at the Galactic University. Worst of all, the Emperor had had to remember to avoid making commitments of substance, while freely applying the applications programme of words without substance. All had been recorded, sight and sound-very discreetly-and Eto Demerzel would go oer it to fancy if Cleon, First of that Name, had be produced himself. That, of course, was only the dash that the Emperor put it to himself. Demerzel would surely say that he was merely collecting data on any unintentional self-revelation on the pan of the guests. And perhaps he was. Fortunate DemerzelThe Emperor could not leave the Palace and its bulky grounds, while Demerzel could range the Galaxy if he wished. The Emperor was always on dis piddle, always accessible, always oblige to deal with visitors, from the important to the merely intrusive. Demerzel remained anonymous and neer al first geared himself to be seen inside the Palace grounds. He remained merely a fear most name and an invisible (and therefore the more frightening) presence. The Emperor was the Inside Man with all the trappings and emoluments of power. Demerzel was the Outside Man, with slide fastener evident, not even a formal title, except with his flicks and mind probing bothwhere and inviteing for no reward for his indefatigable labors exactly one-the rea illuminatedy of power.It am engrossd the Emperor-in a macabre sort of way-to consider that, at any moment, wi thout warning, with a manufactured exc accustom or with none at all, he could have Demerzel arrested, imprisoned, exiled, tortured, or executed. After all, in these annoying centuries of constant unrest, the Emperor might have difficulty in exerting his willing over the un corresponding planets of the Empire, even over the various sectors of Trantor-with their rabble of local executives and legislatures that he was forced to deal with in a maze of interlocking decrees, protocols, commitments, treaties, and general interstellar legalities- except at least his powers remained absolute over the Palace and its grounds. And until now Cleon knew that his dreams of power were useless. Demerzel had served his father and Cleon could not remember a time when he did not turn to Demerzel for everything. It was Demerzel who knew it all, devised it all, did it all. more(prenominal) than that, it was on Demerzel that anything that went wrong could be blamed. The Emperor himself remained above criticism and had nothing to fear-except, of course, palace coups and assassination by his nearest and dearest. It was to prevent this, above all, that he depended upon Demerzel. Emperor Cleon felt a tiny shudder at the melodic theme of trying to do without Demerzel. There had been Emperors who had ruled personally, who had had a series of Chiefs of Staff of no talent, who had had incompetents dowry in the post and had kept them-and roughhow they had gotten a gigantic for a time and aft(prenominal) a fashion. but Cleon could not. He needed Demerzel. In fact, now that the fantasy of assassination had come to him-and, in view of the modern history of the Empire, it was inevitable that it had come to him-he could see that discoverting rid of Demerzel was quite impossible. It couldnt be done. No look how cleverly he, Cleon, would attempt to cast it, Demerzel (he was sure) would anticipate the move somehow, would fill out it was on its way, and would arrange, with far superior c leverness, a palace coup. Cleon would be dead before Demerzel could by chance be dramatizen away in chains and there would simply be another Emperor that Demerzel would serve-and dominate.Or would Demerzel tire of the game and make himself Emperor? Never The ha second gear of anonymity was too strong in him. If Demerzel exposed himself to the world, then his powers, his wisdom, his luck (whatever it was) would surely desert him. Cleon was convinced of that. He felt it to be beyond dispute.So while he behaved himself, Cleon was safe. With no ambitions of his own, Demerzel would serve him faithfully.And now here was Demerzel, dressed so severely and simply that it made Cleon un well apprised of the useless ornamentation of his robes of state, now thankfully re locomote with the aid of two valets. Naturally, it would not be until he was alone and in dishabille that Demerzel would glide into view. Demerzel, verbalize the Emperor of all the Galaxy, I am tiredState functions are tirin g, Sire, murmured Demerzel.Then must I have them every evening?Not every evening, only when they are essential. It gratifies others to see you and to be taken follow of by you. It helps keep the Empire track smoothly.The Empire used to be kept running smoothly by power, tell the Emperor somberly. Now it must be kept running by a smile, a wave of the hand, a murmured word, and a medal or a plaque.If all that keeps the peace, Sire, there is more to be say for it. And your reign proceeds well.You hunch over why-because I have you at my side. My only real gift is that I am a raging(predicate) of your importance. He looked at Demerzel slyly. My son need not be my heir. He is not a adroit boy. What if I make you my heir?Demerzel ground tongue to freezingly, Sire, that is un commendable. I would not usurp the throne. I would not steal it from your rightful heir. Besides, if I have displeased you, revenge me bonnyly. Surely, nothing I have done or could possibly do deserves th e punishment of being made Emperor.Cleon laughed. For that true assessment of the value of the over-embellished throne, Demerzel, I abandon any thought of punishing you. Come now, let us gurgle just nigh something. I would sleep, exactly I am not yet demonstratey for the ceremonies with which they put me to bed. Let us dialogue.About what, Sire?About anything.-About that mathematician and his psychohistory. I reckon about him every once in a while, you cut. I thought of him at dinner tonight. I wondered What if a psychohistorical analysis would predict a method for making it possible to be an Emperor without endless Lords Supper?I somehow think, Sire, that even the cleverest psychohistorian could not manage that.Well, tell me the latest. Is he still hiding among those peculiar baldheads of Mycogen? You promised you would winkle him out of there.So I did, Sire, and I moved in that direction, yet I regret that I must say that I failed.Failed? The Emperor allowed himself to frown. I dont standardized that.Nor I, Sire. I planned to have the mathematician be encouraged to commit some sacrilegious act-such acts are easy to commit in Mycogen, especially for an outsider-one that would cry (out) for severe punishment. The mathematician would then be forced to appeal to the Emperor and, as a result, we would get him. I planned it at the cost of insignificant concessions on our part-important to Mycogen, totally unimportant to us-and I meant to play no direct role in the arrangement. It was to be handled subtly.I dare say, state Cleon, only it failed. Did the Mayor of Mycogen He is called the High Elder, Sire.Do not squabble over titles. Did this High Elder refuse?On the contrary, Sire, he agreed and the mathematician, Seldon, fell into the trap neatly.Well then?He was allowed to leave unharmed.Why? said Cleon indignantly.Of this I am not certain, Sire, plainly I suspect we were outbid.By whom? By the Mayor of Wye?Possibly, Sire, alone I doubt that. I h ave Wye under constant surveillance. If they had gained the mathematician, I would know it by now.The Emperor was not merely frowning. He was clearly enraged. Demerzel, this is bad. I am greatly displeased. A failure like this makes me wonder if you are perhaps not the man you once were. What measures shall we take against Mycogen for this clear defiance of the Emperors wishes?Demerzel bowed low in recognition of the storm unleashed, but he said in steely tones, It would be a mistake to move against Mycogen now, Sire. The disruption that would follow would play into the hands of Wye.But we must do something.Perhaps not, Sire. It is not as bad as it may seem.How can it be not as bad as it seems?Youll remember, Sire, that this mathematician was convinced that psychohistory was impractical.Of course I remember that, but that doesnt liaison, does it? For our purposes?Perhaps not. But if it were to become practical, it would serve our purposes to an infinitely great extent, Sire. And fr om what I have been able to find out, the mathematician is now attempting to make psychohistory practical. His blasphemous attempt in Mycogen was, I understand, part of an attempt at solving the problem of psychohistory. In that case, it may pay us, Sire, to leave him to himself. It will serve us better to pick him up when he is closer to his goal or has reached it.Not if Wye gets him first.That, I shall see to it, will not happen.In the same way that you succeeded in winkling the mathematician out of Mycogen just now?I will not make a mistake the next time, Sire, said Demerzel coldly.The Emperor said, Demerzel, you had better not. I will not tolerate another mistake in this respect. And then he added pettishly, I think I shall not sleep tonight after all.62.Jirad Tisalver of the dhal Sector was short. The top of his head came up only to Hari Seldons roll. He did not seem to take that to heart, however. He had handsome, even features, was given to smiling, and sported a slurred dismal mustache and crisply curling black h personal credit line.He lived, with his wife and a half-grown daughter, in an apartment of seven small inhabits, kept meticulously clean, but almost bare of furnishings. Tisalver said, I apologize, pass over Seldon and Mistress Venabili, that I cannot give you the luxury to which you must be accustomed, but Dahl is a poor sector and I am not even among the better-off among our people.The more reason, responded Seldon, that we must apologize to you for placing the burden of our presence upon you.No burden, Master Seldon. Master Hummin has arranged to pay us generously for your use of our humble quarters and the credits would be welcome even if you were not-and you are.Seldon remembered Hummins parting words when they lastly arrived in Dahl. Seldon he had said, this is the third place Ive arranged as sanctuary. The first two were notoriously beyond the reach of the Imperium, which might well have served to attract their attention after all , they were logical places for you. This one is dissimilar. It is poor, unremarkable, and, as a matter of fact, unsafe in some ways. It is not a natural refuge for you, so that the Emperor and his Chief of Staff may not think to turn their eyes in this direction. Would you mind staying out of disturb this time, then?I will try, Hummin, said Seldon, a little offended. ravish be aware that the trouble is not of my seeking. I am trying to learn what may well take me thirty lifetimes to learn if I am to have the slightest chance of organizing psychohistory.I understand, said Hummin. Your efforts at learning brought you to Upperside in Streeling and to the Elders aerie in Mycogen and to who can guess where in Dahl. As for you, Dr. Venabili, I know youve been trying to take care of Seldon, but you must try harder. Get it fixed in your head that he is the most important person on Trantor-or in the Galaxy, for that matter-and that he must be kept secure at any cost.I will continue to do my best, said Dors stiffly. And as for your soldiers family, they have their peculiarities, but they are essentially good people with whom I have dealt before. Try not to get them in trouble either.But Tisalver, at least, did not seem to anticipate trouble of any kind from his new tenants and his expressed pleasure at the company he now had-quite apart from the rent credits he would be acquiring-seemed quite sincere. He had never been outside Dahl and his appetite for tales of distant places was enormous. His wife too, bowing and smiling, would listen and their daughter, with a finger in her mouth, would allow one eye to peep from behind the door. It was usually after dinner, when the entire family assembled, that Seldon and Dors were expected to talk of the outside world. The food was plentiful enough, but it was bland and often tough. So presently after the tangy food of Mycogen, it was all but inedible.The table was a spacious shelf against one palisade and they ate standin g up. Gentle questioning by Seldon elicited the fact that this was the usual situation among Dahlites as a whole and was not due to anomalous poverty. Of course, Mistress Tisalver explained, there were those with high government jobs in Dahl who were prone to adopt all kinds of effete customs like chairs-she called them body shelves-but this was looked follow out upon by the solid middle class. Much as they disapproved of unnecessary luxury, though, the Tisalvers loved hearing about it, listening with a virtual storm of tongue-clicking when told of mattresses lifted on legs, of ornate chests and wardrobes, and of a superfluity of tableware.They listened also to a description of Mycogenian customs, while Jirad Tisalver stroked his own hair complacently and made it quite obvious that he would as soon think of emasculation as of depilation. Mistress Tisalver was furious at any mention of female subservience and flatly refused to believe that the Sisters accepted it tranquilly.They se ized most, however, on Seldons. routine reference to the Imperial grounds. When, upon questioning, it turned out that Seldon had actually seen and spoken to the Emperor, a blanket of awe enveloped the family. It took a while before they dared ask questions and Seldon found that he could not satisfy them. He had not, after all, seen often of the grounds and even less of the Palace interior.That disappointed the Tisalvers and they were unremitting in their attempts to elicit more. And, having heard of Seldons Imperial adventure, they found it hard to believe Dorss assertion that, for her part, she had never been anywhere in the Imperial grounds. Most of all, they rejected Seldons casual comment that the Emperor had talked and behaved very much as any ordinary human being would. That seemed utterly impossible to the Tisalvers. After three evenings of this, Seldon found himself tiring. He had, at first, welcomed the chance to do nothing for a while (during the day, at least) but view some of the history book-films that Dors recommended. The Tisalvers turned over their book-viewer to their guests during the day with good grace, though the little girl seemed discontent and was sent over to a neighbors apartment to use theirs for her homework.It doesnt help, Seldon said restlessly in the security of his room after he had piped in some medicinal drug to discourage eavesdropping. I can see your fascination with history, but its all endless detail. Its a mountainous heap-no, a Galactic heap-of data in which I cant see the basic organization.I dare say, said Dors, that there must have been a time when human beings saw no organization in the stars in the sky, but eventually they discovered the Galactic structure.And Im sure that took generations, not weeks. There must have been a time when physics seemed a spate of unrelated observations before the central natural laws were discovered and that took generations.-And what of the Tisalvers?What of them? I think theyre b eing very thin.Theyre curious.Of course they are. Wouldnt you be if you were in their place?But is it just curiosity? They seem to be ferociously interested in my meeting with the Emperor.Dors seemed impatient. Again its only natural. Wouldnt you be-if the situation was reversed?It makes me nervous.Hummin brought us here.Yes, but hes not perfect. He brought me to the University and I was maneuvered Upperside. He brought us to Sunmaster Fourteen, who entrapped us. You know he did. Twice bitten, at least once shy. Im tired of being questioned.Then turn the tables, Hari. Arent you interested in Dahl?Of course. What do you know about it to begin with?Nothing. Its just one of more than eight hundred sectors and Ive only been on Trantor a little over two age.Exactly. And there are twenty-five million other worlds and Ive been on this problem only a little over two months.-I tell you. I demand to go back to Helicon and take up a study of the mathematics of upthrow, which was my Ph.D. problem, and forget I ever saw-or thought I saw-that turbulence gave an insight into human society.But that evening he said to Tisalver, But you know, Master Tisalver, youve never told me what you do, the nature of your work.Me? Tisalver placed his fingers on his chest, which was covered by the elemental white T-shirt with nothing underneath, which seemed to be the standard male uniform in Dahl. Nothing much. I work at the local holovision station in programming. Its very dull, but its a living.And its respectable, said Mistress Tisalver. It means he doesnt have to work in the heatsinks.The heatsinks? said Dors, lifting her light eyebrows and managing to look fascinated.Oh well, said Tisalver, thats what Dahl is best known for. It isnt much, but forty billion people on Trantor need energy and we supply a lot of it. We dont get appreciated, but Id like to see some of the fancy sectors do without it.Seldon looked confused. Doesnt Trantor get its energy from solar power stations in or bit?Some, said Tisalver, and some from nuclear amalgamation stations out on the islands and some from microfusion motors and some from wind stations Upperside, but half-he raised a finger in emphasis and his face looked unusually grave-half comes from the heatsinks. There are heatsinks in lots of places, but none-none-as rich as those in Dahl. Are you heartbreaking that you dont know about the heatsinks? You sit there and stare at me.Dors said quick, We are Outworlders, you know. (She had almost said tribespeople, but had caught herself in time.) Especially Dr. Seldon. Hes only been on Trantor a couple of months. real? said Mistress Tisalver. She was a trifle shorter than her husband, was plump without quite being fat, had her dark hair drawn tightly back into a bun, and possessed sort of beautiful dark eyes. Like her husband, she appeared to be in her thirties.(After a period in Mycogen, not actually foresightful in duration but intense, it taken with(p) Dors as odd to have a woman enter the conversation at will. How quickly modes and manners establish themselves, she thought, and made a mental note to mention that to Seldon-one more item for his psychohistory.) Oh yes, she said. Dr. Seldon is from Helicon.Mistress Tisalver registered polite ignorance. And where might that be?Dors said, Why, its- She turned to Seldon. Where is it, Hari? Seldon looked abashed. To tell you the truth, I dont think I could locate it very easily on a Galactic model without face up the coordinates. All I can say is that its on the other side of the central black hole from Trantor and getting there by hypership is rather a chore.Mistress Tisalver said, I dont think Jirad and I will ever be on a hypership.Someday, Casilia, said Tisalver cheerfully, maybe we will. But tell us about Helicon, Master Seldon.Seldon shook his head. To me that would be dull. Its just a world, like any other. Only Trantor is different from all the rest. There are no heatsinks on Helicon-or probably an ywhere else-except Trantor. Tell me about them.(Only Trantor is different from all the rest. The sentence repeated itself in Seldons mind and for a moment he grasped at it, and for some reason Dorss hand-on-thigh story suddenly recurred to him, but Tisalver was speaking and it passed out of Seldons mind as quickly as it had entered.)Tisalver said, If you really want to know about heatsinks, I can show you. He turned to his wife. Casilia, would you mind if tomorrow evening I take Master Seldon to the heatsinks.And me, said Dors quickly.And Mistress Venabili?Mistress Tisalver frowned and said sharply, I dont think it would be a good idea. Our visitors would find it dull.I dont think so, Mistress Tisalver, said Seldon ingratiatingly. We would very much like to see the heatsinks. We would be delighted if you would join us too and your little daughter-if she wants to come.To the heatsinks? said Mistress Tisalver, stiffening. Its no place at all for a decent woman.Seldon felt embarrassed at his gaffe. I meant no harm, Mistress Tisalver.No offense, said Tisalver. Casilia thinks its beneath us and so it is, but as long as I dont work there, its no distress merely to visit and show it to guests. But it is uncomfortable and I would never get Casilia to dress properly.They got up from their crouching positions. Dahlite chairs were merely molded plastic seats on small wheels and they cramped Seldons knees terribly and seemed to wiggle at his least body movement. The Tisalvers, however, had get the hang the art of sitting firmly and rose without trouble and without needing to use their arms for help as Seldon had to. Dors also got up without trouble and Seldon once again marveled at her natural grace.Before they parted to their separate rooms for the night, Seldon said to Dors, Are you sure you know nothing about heatsinks? Mistress Tisalver makes them seem tart.They cant be that unpleasant or Tisalver wouldnt suggest taking us on tour. Lets be content to be surprised.63 .Tisalver said, Youll need proper clothing. Mistress Tisalver sniffed markedly in the background.Cautiously, Seldon, thinking of kirtles with wispy distress, said, What do you mean by proper clothing?Something light, such as I wear. A T-shirt, very short sleeves, loose slacks, loose underpants, foot socks, afford sandals. I have it all for you.Good. It doesnt sound bad.As for Mistress Venabili, I have the same. I hope it fits.The clothes Tisalver supplied each of them (which were his own) fit fine-if a bit snugly. When they were ready, they bade Mistress Tisalver good-bye and she, with a resigned if still disapproving air, watched them from the doorway as they cast off.It was early evening and there was an attractive twilight effulgence above. It was clear that Dahls lights would soon be winking on. The temperature was mild and there were virtually no vehicles to be seen everyone was walking. In the distance was the ever-present hum of an Expressway and the free-and-easy glitte r of its lights could be easily seen.The Dahlites, Seldon noted, did not seem to be walking toward any particular destination. Rather, there seemed to be a promenade tone ending on, a walking for pleasure. Perhaps, if Dahl was an impoverished sector, as Tisalver had implied, inexpensive entertainment was at a premium and what was as pleasant-and as inexpensive-as an evening stroll?Seldon felt himself mitigation automatically into the gait of an aimless stroll himself and felt the warmth of friendliness all around him. People greeted each other as they passed and exchanged a few words. Black mustaches of different shape and thickness flashed everywhere and seemed a requisite for the Dahlite male, as ubiquitous as the bald heads of the Mycogenian Brothers. It was an evening rite, a way of making sure that another day had passed safely and that ones friends were still well and happy. And, it soon became apparent, Dors caught every eye. In the twilight glow, the ruddiness of her hair had deepened, but it stood out against the sea of black-haired heads (except for the occasional gray) like a gold coin winking its way a sail a pile of coal.This is very pleasant, said Seldon.It is, said Tisalver. Ordinarily, Id be walking with my wife and shed be in her element. There is no one for a kilometer around whom she doesnt know by name, occupation, and interrelationships. I cant do that. Right now, half the people who greet me I couldnt tell you their names. But, in any case, we mustnt creep along too slowly. We must get to the elevator. Its a take world on the lower trains.They were on the elevator going down when Dors said, I presume, Master Tisalver, that the heatsinks are places where the internal heat of Trantor is being used to grow steam that will turn turbines and produce electricity.Oh, no. Highly efficient large-scale thermopiles produce electricity directly. Dont ask me the details, please. Im just a holovision programmer. In fact, dont ask anyone the detail s down there. The whole thing is one big black box. It works, but no one knows how.What if something goes wrong?It doesnt usually, but if it does, some expert comes over from somewhere. Someone who understands computers. The whole thing is highly computerized, of course.The elevator came to a halt and they stepped out. A blast of heat struck them.Its hot, said Seldon quite unnecessarily.Yes, it is, said Tisalver. Thats what makes Dahl so valuable as an energy source. The magma layer is nearer the surface here than it is anywhere else in the world. So you have to work in the heat.How about air-conditioning? said Dors.There is air-conditioning, but its a matter of expense. We ventilate and dehumidify and cool, but if we go too far, then were using up too much energy and the whole process becomes too expensive.Tisalver cave inped at a door at which he signaled. It opened to a blast of cooler air and he muttered, We ought to be able to get someone to help show us around and hell contro l the remarks that Mistress Venabili will otherwise be the victim of at least from the men.Remarks wont embarrass me, said Dors.They will embarrass me, said Tisalver.A childly man walked out of the office and introduced himself as Hano Linder. He resembled Tisalver quite closely, but Seldon decided that until he got used to the almost universal shortness, swarthiness, black hair, and luxuriant mustaches, he would not be able to see individual differences easily.Lindor said, Ill be glad to show you around for what there is to see. Its not one of your spectaculars, you know. He addressed them all, but his eyes were fixed on Dors. He said, Its not going to be comfortable. I suggest we remove our shirts.Its nice and cool in here, said Seldon.Of course, but thats because were executives. Rank has its privileges. Out there we cant maintain air-conditioning at this level. Thats why they get paid more than I do. In fact, those are the best-paying jobs in Dahl, which is the only reason we get people to work down here. Even so, its getting harder to get heatsinkers all the time. He took a deep breath. Okay, out into the soup. He removed his own shirt and tucked it into his waistband. Tisalver did the same and Seldon followed suit.Linder glanced at Dors and said, For your own comfort, Mistress, but its not compulsory.Thats all right, said Dors and removed her shirt.Her brassiere was white, unpadded, and showed considerable cleavage. Mistress, said Lindor, Thats not- He thought a moment, then shrugged and said, All right. Well get by.At first, Seldon was aware only of computers and machinery, massive pipes, flickering lights, and flashing screens.The overall light was comparatively dim, though individual scratchs of machinery were illuminated. Seldon looked up into the almost-darkness. He said, Why isnt it better lit?Its lit well enough where it should be, said Lindor. His component was well modulated and he spoke quickly, but a little harshly. Overall illumination i s kept low for psychological reasons. Too bright is translated, in the mind, into heat. Complaints go up when we turn up the lights, even when the temperature is made to go down.Dors said, It seems to be well computerized. I should think the operations could be turned over to computers altogether. This sort of environment is made for artificial intelligence.Perfectly right, said Lindor, but neither can we take a chance on any failures. We need people on the spot if anything goes wrong. A malfunctioning computer can raise problems up to two thousand kilometers away.So can human error. Isnt that so? said Seldon.Oh. yes, but with both people and computers on the job, computer error can be more quickly tracked down and corrected by people and, conversely, human error can be more quickly corrected by computers. What it amounts to is that nothing serious can happen unless human error and computer error take place simultaneously. And that hardly ever happens.Hardly ever, but not never, eh? said Seldon. more or less never, but not never. Computers arent what they used to be and neither are people.Thats the way it always seems, said Seldon, laughing slightly.No, no. Im not talk of the town memory. Im not talking good old days. Im talking statistics.At this, Seldon recalled Hummin talking of the degeneration of the times.See what I mean? said Lindor, his voice dropping. Theres a bunch of people, at the C-3 level from the looks of them, drinking. Not one of them is at his or her post.What are they drinking? asked Dors.Special fluids for replacing electrolyte loss. Fruit juice.You cant blame them, can you? said Dors indignantly. In this dry heat, you would have to drink.Do you know how long a skilled C-3 can spin out a drink? And theres nothing to be done about it either. If we give them five-minute breaks for drinks and stagger them so they dont all congregate in a group, you simply stir up a rebellion.They were approaching the group now. There were men and women (Dahl seemed to be a more or less amphisexual society) and both sexes were shirtless. The women wore devices that might be called brassieres, but they were strictly functional. They served to lift the breasts in order to improve ventilation and plant perspiration, but covered nothing.Dors said in an aside to Seldon, That makes sense, Hari. Im soaking wet there.Take off your brassiere, then, said Seldon. I wont lift a finger to stop you.Somehow, said Dors, I guessed you wouldnt. She left her brassiere where it was. They were approaching the congregation of people-about a dozen of them.Dors said, If any of them make rude remarks, I shall survive.Thank you, said Lindor. I cannot promise they wont.-But Ill have to introduce you. If they get the idea that you two are inspectors and in my company, theyll become unruly. Inspectors are supposed to poke around on their own without anyone from management overseeing them. He held up his arms.Heatsinkers, I have two introductions to make. We have v isitors from outside-two Outworlders, two scholars. Theyve got worlds running short on energy and theyve come here to see how we do it here in Dahl. They think they may learn something.Theyll learn how to sweat shouted a heatsinker and there was raucous laughter.Shes got a sweaty chest right now, shouted a woman, covering up like that. Dors shouted back, Id take it off, but mine cant compete with yours.The laughter turned good-natured.But one young man stepped forward, staring at Seldon with intense deep-set eyes, his face set into a humorless mask. He said, I know you. Youre the mathematician.He ran forward, inspecting Seldons face with bore solemnity. Automatically, Dors stepped in front of Seldon and Lindor stepped in front of her, shouting, Back, heatsinker. Mind your manners.Seldon said, Wait Let him talk to me. Why is everyone piling in front of me?Lindor said in a low voice, If any of them get close, youll find they dont smell like hothouse flowers.Ill endure it, said Seldon brusquely. Young man, what is it you want?My name is Amaryl. Yugo Amaryl. Ive seen you on holovision.You might have, but what about it?I dont remember your name.You dont have to.You talked about something called psychohistory.You dont know how I wish I hadnt.What?Nothing. What is it you want?I want to talk to you. Just for a little while. Now.Seldon looked at Lindor, who shook his head firmly. Not while hes on his shift.When does your shift begin, Mr. Amaryl? asked Seldon.Sixteen hundred.Can you see me tomorrow at fourteen hundred?Sure. Where?Seldon turned to Tisalver. Would you permit me to see him in your place?Tisalver looked very unhappy. Its not necessary. Hes just a heatsinker.Seldon said, He recognized my face. He knows something about me. He cant be just an anything. Ill see him in my room. And then, as Tisalvers face didnt soften, he added, My room, for which rent is being paid. And youll be at work, out of the apartment.Tisalver said in a low voice, Its not me, Master Sel don. Its my wife, Casilia. She wont stand for it.Ill talk to her, said Seldon grimly. Shell have to.64.Casilia Tisalver opened her eyes wide. A heatsinker? Not in my apartment.Why not? Besides, hell be glide path to my room, said Seldon. At fourteen hundred.I wont have it, said Mistress Tisalver. This is what comes of going down to the heatsinks. Jirad was a fool.Not at all, Mistress Tisalver. We went at my prayer and I was fascinated. I must see this young man, since that is necessary to my scholarly work.Im sorry if it is, but I wont have it.Dors Venabili raised her hand. Hari, let me take care of this. Mistress Tisalver, if Dr. Seldon must see someone in his room this afternoon, the additional person naturally means additional rent. We understand that. For today, then, the rent on Dr. Seldons room will be doubled.Mistress Tisalver thought about it. Well, thats decent of you, but its not only the credits. Theres the neighbors to think of. A sweaty, smelly heatsinker-I doubt that hell be sweaty and smelly at fourteen hundred, Mistress Tisalver, but let me go on. Since Dr. Seldon must see him, then if he cant see him here, hell have to see him elsewhere, but we cant run here and there. That would be too inconvenient. Therefore, what we will have to do is to get a room elsewhere. It wont be easy and we dont want to do it, but we will have to. So we will pay the rent through today and leave and of course we will have to explain to Master Hummin why we have had to change the arrangements that he so kindly made for us.Wait. Mistress Tisalvers face became a study of calculation. We wouldnt like to disoblige Master Hummin or you two. How long would this creature have to stay?Hes coming at fourteen hundred. He must be at work at sixteen hundred. He will be here for less than two hours, perhaps considerably less. We will meet him outside, the two of us, and bring him to Dr. Seldons room. Any neighbors who see us will think he is an Outworlder friend of ours.Mistress Tisalver nodded her head. Then let it be as you say. Double rent for Master Seldons room for today and the heatsinker will visit just this one time.Just this one time, said Dors.But later, when Seldon and Dors were sitting in her room, Dors said, Why do you have to see him, Hari? Is interviewing a heatsinker important to psychohistory too?Seldon thought he detected a small edge of sarcasm in her voice and he said tartly, I dont have to base everything on this huge project of mine, in which I have very little faith anyway. I am also a human being with human curiosities. We were down in the heatsinks for hours and you saw what the working people there were like. They were obviously uneducated. They were low-level individuals-no play on words intended-and yet here was one who recognized me. He must have seen me on holovision on the occasion of the Decennial Convention and he remembered the word psychohistory. He strikes me as unusual-as out of place somehow-and I would like to talk to him.Because it pleases your vanity to have become known even to heatsinkers in Dahl?Well perhaps. But it also piques my curiosity.And how do you know he hasnt been briefed and intends to lead you into trouble as has happened before.Seldon winced. I wont let him run his fingers through my hair. In any case, were more nearly prepared now, arent we? And Im sure youll be with me. I mean, you let me go Upperside alone, you let me go with Raindrop Forty-Three to the microfarms alone, and youre not going to do that again, are you?You can be absolutely sure I wont, said Dors.Well then, Ill talk to the young man and you can watch out for traps. I have every faith in you.65.Amaryl arrived a few minutes before 1400, looking warily about. His hair was neat and his thick mustache was combed and turned up slightly at the edges. His T-shirt was startlingly white. He did smell, but it was a fruity odor that undoubtedly came from the slightly overenthusiastic use of scent. He had a bag with him.Seld on, who had been waiting outside for him, seized one elbow lightly, while Dors seized the other, and they moved rapidly into the elevator. Having reached the correct level, they passed through the apartment into Seldons room. Amaryl said in a low hangdog voice, Nobody home, huh?Everyones busy, said Seldon neutrally. He indicated the only chair in the room, a pad directly on the floor.No, said Amaryl. I dont need that. One of you two use it. He squatted on the floor with a lovely downward motion.Dors imitated the movement, sitting on the edge of Seldons floor-based mattress, but Seldon dropped down rather clumsily, having to make use of his hands and unable, quite, to find a comfortable position for his legs. Seldon said, Well, young man, why do you want to see me?Because youre a mathematician. Youre the first mathematician I ever saw-close up-so I could touch him, you know.Mathematicians relish like anyone else.Not to me, Dr Dr Seldon?Thats my name.Amaryl looked pleased. I finally remembered.-You see, I want to be a mathematician too.Very good. Whats stopping you?Amaryl suddenly frowned. Are you serious?I presume something is stopping you. Yes, Im serious.Whats stopping me is Im a Dahlite, a heatsinker on Dahl. I dont have the money to get an education and I cant get the credits to get an education. A real education, I mean. All they taught me was to read and cipher and use a computer and then I knew enough to be a heatsinker. But I wanted more. So I taught myself.In some ways, thats the best kind of teaching. How did you do that?I knew a librarian. She was willing to help me. She was a very nice woman and she showed me how to use computers for learning mathematics. And she set up a software system that would connect me with other libraries. Id come on my days off and on mornings after my shift. Sometimes shed lock me in her private room so I wouldnt be bothered by people coming in or she would let me in when the library was closed. She didnt know mathematic s herself, but she helped me all she could. She was oldish, a widow lady. Maybe she thought of me as a kind of son or something. She didnt have children of her own.(Maybe, thought Seldon briefly, there was some other emotion involved too, but he put the thought away. None of his business.)I liked number theory, said Amaryl. I worked some things out from what I learned from the computer and from the book-films it used to teach me mathematics. I came up with some new things that werent in the book-films. Seldon raised his eyebrows. Thats interesting. Like what?Ive brought some of them to you. Ive never showed them to anyone. The people around me- He shrugged. Theyd either laugh or be annoyed. Once I tried to tell a girl I knew, but she just said I was weird and wouldnt see me anymore. Is it all right for me to show them to you?Quite all right. Believe me.Seldon held out his hand and after a brief hesitation, Amaryl handed him the bag he was carrying.For a long time, Seldon looked over Amaryls papers. The work was naive in the extreme, but he allowed no smile to cross his face. He followed the demonstrations, not one of which was new, of course-or even nearly new-or of any importance.But that didnt matter.Seldon looked up. Did you do all of this yourself?Amaryl, looking more than half-frightened, nodded his head. Seldon extracted several sheets. What made you think of this? His finger ran down a line of mathematical reasoning.Amaryl looked it over, frowned, and thought about it. Then he explained his line of thinking.Seldon listened and said, Did you ever read a book by Anat Bigell?On number theory?The title was Mathematical Deduction. It wasnt about number theory, particularly.Amaryl shook his head. I never heard of him. Im sorry.He worked out this theorem of yours three hundred years ago.Amaryl looked stricken. I didnt know that.Im sure you didnt. You did it more cleverly, though. Its not rigorous, but-What do you mean, rigorous?It doesnt matter. Seldon put the papers back together in a sheaf, restored it to the bag, and said, Make several copies of all this. Take one copy, have it dated by an official computer, and place it under computerized seal. My friend here, Mistress Venabili, can get you into Streeling University without tuition on some sort of scholarship. Youll have to start at the beginning and take courses in other subjects than mathematics, but-By now Amaryl had caught his breath. Into Streeling University? They wont take me.Why not? Dors, you can arrange it, cant you?Im sure I can.No, you cant, said Amaryl hotly. They wont take me. Im from Dahl.Well?They wont take people from Dahl.Seldon looked at Dors. Whats he talking about?Dors shook her head. I really dont know.Amaryl said, Youre an Outworlder, Mistress. How long have you been at Streeling?A little over two years, Mr. Amaryl.Have you ever seen Dahlites there-short, curly black hair, big mustaches?There are students with all kinds of appearances.But no Dahlites. Look agai n the next time youre there.Why not? said Seldon.They dont like us. We look different. They dont like our mustaches.You can shave your- but Seldons voice died under the others furious glance.Never. Why should I? My mustache is my manhood.You shave your beard. Thats your manhood too.To my people it is the mustache.Seldon looked at Dors again and murmured, Bald heads, mustaches madness.What? said Amaryl angrily.Nothing. Tell me what else they dont like about Dahlites.They make up things not to like. They say we smell. They say were dirty. They say we steal. They say were violent. They say were dumb.Why do they say all this?Because its easy to say it and it makes them feel good. Sure, if we work in the heatsinks, we get dirty and smelly. If were poor and held down, some of us steal and get violent. But that isnt the way it is with all of us. How about those tall yellow-hairs in the Imperial Sector who think they own the Galaxy-no, they do own the Galaxy. Dont they ever get violent? Don t they steal sometimes? If they did my job, theyd smell the way I do. If they had to live the way I have to, theyd get dirty too.Who denies that there are people of all kinds in all places? said Seldon.No one argues the matter They just take it for granted. Master Seldon, Ive got to get away from Trantor. I have no chance on Trantor, no way of earning credits, no way of getting an education, no way of becoming a mathematician, no way of becoming any thing but what they say I am a pitiable nothing. This last was said in frustration-and desperation.Seldon tried to be reasonable. The person Im renting this room from is a Dahlite. He has a clean job. Hes educated.Oh sure, said Amaryl passionately. There are some. They let a few do it so that they can say it can be done. And those few can live nicely as long as they stay in Dahl. Let them go outside and theyll see how theyre treated. And while theyre in here they make themselves feel good by treating the rest of us like dirt. That makes them yellow-hairs in their own eyes. What did this nice person youre renting this room from say when you told him you were bringing in a heatsinker? What did he say I would be like? Theyre gone now wouldnt be in the same place with me.Seldon moistened his lips. I wont forget you. Ill see to it that youll get off Trantor and into my own University in Helicon-once Im back there myself.Do you promise that? Your word of honor? Even though Im a Dahlite?The fact that youre a Dahlite is unimportant to me. The fact that you are already a mathematician is But I still cant quite grasp what youre telling me. I find it impossible to believe that there would be such irrational feeling against harmless people.Amaryl said bitterly, Thats because youve never had any occasion to interest yourself in such things. It can all pass right under your nose and you wouldnt smell a thing because it doesnt affect you. Dors said, Mr. Amaryl, Dr. Seldon is a mathematician like you and his head can sometimes be in the clouds. You must understand that. I am a historian, however. I know that it isnt unusual to have one group of people look down upon another group. There are peculiar and almost ritualistic hatreds that have no rational justification and that can have their serious historical influence. Its too bad.Amaryl said, Saying something is too bad is easy. You say you disapprove, which makes you a nice person, and then you can go about your own business and not be interested anymore. Its a lot worse than too bad. Its against everything decent and natural. Were all of us the same, yellow-hairs and black-hairs, tall and short, Easterners, Westerners, Southerners, and Outworlders. Were all of us, you and I and even the Emperor, descended from the people of Earth, arent we?Descended from what? asked Seldon. He turned to look at Dors, his eyes wide.From the people of Earth shouted Amaryl. The one planet on which human beings originated.One planet? Just one planet?The only planet. Sure. E arth.When you say Earth, you mean Aurora, dont you?Aurora? Whats that?-I mean Earth. Have you never heard of Earth?No, said Seldon. Actually not.Its a mythical world, began Dors, that-Its not mythical. It was a real planet.Seldon sighed. Ive heard this all before. Well, lets go through it again. Is there a Dahlite book that tells of Earth?What?Some computer software, then?I dont know what youre talking about.Young man, where did you hear about Earth?My dad told me. Everyone knows about it.Is there anyone who knows about it especially? Did they teach you about it in school?They never said a word about it there.Then how do people know about it?Amaryl shrugged his shoulders with an air of being uselessly badgered over nothing. Everyone just does. If you want stories about it, theres Mother Rittah. I havent heard that shes died yet.Your mother? Wouldnt you know-Shes not my mother. Thats just what they call her. Mother Rittah. Shes an old woman. She lives in Billibotton. Or used to.Where s that?Down in that direction, said Amaryl, gesturing vaguely.How do I get there?Get there? You dont want to get there. Youd never come back.Why not?Believe me. You dont want to go there.But Id like to see Mother Rittah.Amaryl shook his head. Can you use a knife?For what purpose? What kind of knife?A cutting knife. Like this. Amaryl reached down to the belt that held his pants tight about his waist. A section of it came away and from one end there flashed out a knife blade, thin, gleaming, and deadly. Dorss hand immediately came down hard upon his right wrist. Amaryl laughed. I wasnt planning to use it. I was just showing it to you. He put the knife back in his belt. You need one in self-defense and if you dont have one or if you have one but dont know how to use it, youll never get out of Billibotton alive. Anyway-he suddenly grew very grave and intent-are you really serious, Master Seldon, about helping me get to Helicon?Entirely serious. Thats a promise. Write down your name and where you can be reached by hypercomputer. You have a code, I suppose.My shift in the heatsinks has one. Will that do?Yes.Well then, said Amaryl, looking up earnestly at Seldon, this means I have my whole future(a) riding on you, Master Seldon, so please dont go to Billibotton. I cant afford to lose you now.He turned beseeching eyes on Dors and said softly, Mistress Venabili, if hell listen to you, dont let him go. Please.