5

The snow had ceased, but it caked the ground deeply now and the sleek ground car advanced through the deserted streets with lumbering effort. The murky gray light of incipient dawn was cold not only in the poetical sense but also in a very literal way—and even in the then turbulent state of the Foundation’s politics, no one, whether Actionist or pro-Hardin, found his spirits sufficiently ardent to begin street activity that early.

Yohan Lee did not like that and his grumblings grew audible. “It’s going to look bad, Hardin. They’re going to say you sneaked away.”

“Let them say it if they wish. I’ve got to get to Anacreon and I want to do it without trouble. Now that’s enough, Lee.”

Hardin leaned back into the cushioned seat and shivered slightly. It wasn’t cold inside the well-heated car, but there was something frigid about a snow-covered world, even through glass, that annoyed him.

He said, reflectively, “Some day when we get around to it we ought to weather-condition Terminus. It could be done.”

“I,” replied Lee, “would like to see a few other things done first. For instance, what about weather-conditioning Sermak? A nice, dry cell fitted for twenty-five centigrade all year round would be just right.”

“And then I’d really need bodyguards,” said Hardin, “and not just those two.” He indicated two of Lee’s bully-boys sitting up front with the driver, hard eyes on the empty streets, ready hands at their atom blasts. “You evidently want to stir up civil war.”

“I do? There are other sticks in the fire and it won’t require much stirring, I can tell you.” He counted off on blunt fingers, “One: Sermak raised hell yesterday in the City Council and called for an impeachment.”

“He had a perfect right to do so,” responded Hardin, coolly. “Besides which, his motion was defeated 206 to 184.”

“Certainly. A majority of twenty-two when we had counted on sixty as a minimum. Don’t deny it; you know you did.”

“It was close,” admitted Hardin.

“All right. And two; after the vote, the fifty-nine members of the Actionist Party reared up on their hind legs and stamped out of the Council Chambers.”

Hardin was silent, and Lee continued, “And three: Before leaving, Sermak howled that you were a traitor, that you were going to Anacreon to collect your payment, that the Chamber majority in refusing to vote impeachment had participated in the treason, and that the name of their party was not ‘Actionist’ for nothing. What does that sound like?”

“Trouble, I suppose.”

“And now you’re chasing off at daybreak, like a criminal. You ought to face them, Hardin—and if you have to, declare martial law, by space!”

“Violence is the last refuge—”

“—Of the incompetent. Bah!”

“All right. We’ll see. Now listen to me carefully, Lee. Thirty years ago, the Time Vault opened, and on the fiftieth anniversary of the beginning of the Foundation, there appeared a Hari Seldon recording to give us our first idea of what was really going on.”

“I remember.” Lee nodded reminiscently, with a half smile. “It was the day we took over the government.”

“That’s right. It was the time of our first major crisis. This is our second—and three weeks from today will be the eightieth anniversary of the beginning of the Foundation. Does that strike you as in any way significant?”

“You mean he’s coming again?”

“I’m not finished. Seldon never said anything about returning, you understand, but that’s of a piece with his whole plan. He’s always done his best to keep all foreknowledge from us. Nor is there any way of telling whether the computer is set for further openings short of dismantling the Vault—and it’s probably set to destroy itself if we were to try that. I’ve been there every anniversary since the first appearance, just on the chance. He’s never shown up, but this is the first time since then that there’s really been a crisis.”

“Then he’ll come.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. However, this is the point. At today’s session of the Council, just after you announce that I have left for Anacreon, you will further announce, officially, that on March 14th next, there will be another Hari Seldon recording, containing a message of the utmost importance regarding the recent successfully concluded crisis. That’s very important, Lee. Don’t add anything more no matter how many questions are asked.”

Lee stared. “Will they believe it?”

“That doesn’t matter. It will confuse them, which is all I want. Between wondering whether it is true and what I mean by it if it isn’t—they’ll decide to postpone action till after March 14th. I’ll be back considerably before then.”

Lee looked uncertain. “But that ‘successfully concluded.’ That’s bull!”

“Highly confusing bull. Here’s the airport!”

The waiting spaceship bulked somberly in the dimness. Hardin stamped through the snow toward it and at the open air lock turned about with outstretched hand.

“Good-by, Lee. I hate to leave you in the frying pan like this, but there’s not another I can trust. Now please keep out of the fire.”

“Don’t worry. The frying pan is hot enough. I’ll follow orders.” He stepped back, and the air lock closed.