Foundation

"Quiet, and listen. The envelope contains the exact location of the planet to which you're to proceed. There you will wait for me for two months. If, before the two months are up, the Foundation locates you, the microfilm is my report of the trip.

"If, however," and his voice was somber, "I do not return at the end of two months, and Foundation vessels do not locate you, proceed to the planet, Terminus, and hand in the Time Capsule as the report. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir."

"At no time are you, or any of the men, to amplify in any single instance, my official report."

"If we are questioned, sir?"

"Then you know nothing."

"Yes, sir."

The interview ended, and fifty minutes later, a lifeboat kicked lightly off the side of the Far Star.

Onum Barr was an old man, too old to be afraid. Since the last disturbances, he had lived alone on the fringes of the land with what books he had saved from the ruins. He had nothing he feared losing, least of all the worn remnant of his life, and so he faced the intruder without cringing.

"Your door was open," the stranger explained.

His accent was clipped and harsh, and Barr did not fail to notice the strange blue-steel hand-weapon at his hip. In the half gloom of the small room, Barr saw the glow of a force-shield surrounding the man.

He said, wearily, "There is no reason to keep it closed. Do you wish anything of me?"

"Yes." The stranger remained standing in the center of the room. He was large, both in height and bulk. "Yours is the only house about here."

"It is a desolate place," agreed Barr, "but there is a town to the east. I can show you the way'."

"In a while. May I sit?"

"If the chairs will hold you," said the old man, gravely. They were old, too. Relics of a better youth.

The stranger said, "My name is Hober Mallow. I come from a far province."

Barr nodded and smiled, "Your tongue convicted you of that long ago. I am Onum Barr of Siwe

"Then this is Siwe

"They would have to be old, indeed, for star-positions to be misplaced."

Barr sat quite still, while the other's eyes drifted away into a reverie. He noticed that the nuclear force-shield had vanished from about the man and admitted dryly to himself that his person no longer seemed formidable to strangers - or even, for good or for evil, to his enemies.

He said, "My house is poor and my resources few. You may share what I have if your stomach can endure black bread and dried corn."

Mallow shook his head, "No, I have eaten, and I can't stay. All I need are the directions to the center of government."

"That is easily enough done, and poor though I am, deprives me of nothing. Do you mean the capital of the planet, or of the Imperial Sector?"

The younger man's eyes narrowed, "Aren't the two identical? Isn't this Siwe

The old patrician nodded slowly, "Siwe

"That's too bad. In fact, that's very bad. Is the new capital far off?"

"It's on Orsha II. Twenty parsecs off. Your map will direct you. How old is it?"

"A hundred and fifty years."

"That old?" The old man sighed. "History has been crowded since. Do you know any of it?"

Mallow shook his bead slowly.

Barr said, "You're fortunate. It has been an evil time for the provinces, but for the reign of Sta

Mallow said with sudden sharpness, "Ruin, eh? You sound as if the province were impoverished."

"Perhaps not on an absolute scale. The physical resources of twenty-five first-rank planets take a long time to use up. Compared to the wealth of the last century, though, we have gone a long way downhill - and there is no sign of turning, not yet. Why are you so interested in all this, young man? You are all alive and your eyes shine!"

The trader came near enough to blushing, as the faded eyes seemed to look too deep into his and smile at what they saw.

He said, "Now look here. I'm a trader out there - out toward the rim of the Galaxy. I've located some old maps, and I'm out to open new markets. Naturally, talk of impoverished provinces disturbs me. You can't get money out of a world unless money's there to be got. Now how's Siwe

The old man leaned forward, "I ca

Mallow jerked his head, "There isn't much law out there where I come from. Fighting and scars are part of a trader's overhead. But fighting is only useful when there's money at the end, and if I can get it without, so much the sweeter. Now will I find enough money here to make it worth the fighting? I take it I can find the fighting easily enough."

"Easily enough," agreed Barr. "You could join Wiscard's remnants in the Red Stars. I don't know, though, if you'd call that fighting or piracy. Or you could join our present gracious viceroy - gracious by right of murder, pillage, rapine, and the word of a boy Emperor, since rightfully assassinated." The patrician's thin cheeks reddened. His eyes closed and then opened, bird-bright.

"You don't sound very friendly to the viceroy, Patrician Barr," said Mallow. "What if I'm one of his spies?"

"What if you are?" said Barr, bitterly. "What can you take?" He gestured a withered arm at the bare interior of the decaying mansion.

"Your life."

"It would leave me easily enough. It has been with me five years too long. But you are not one of the viceroy's men. If you were, perhaps even now instinctive self-preservation would keep my mouth closed."

"How do you know?"

The old man laughed, "You seem suspicious - Come, I'll wager you think I'm trying to trap you into denouncing the government. No, no. I am past politics."

"Past politics? Is a man ever past that? The words you used to describe the viceroy - what were they? Murder, pillage, all that. You didn't sound objective. Not exactly. Not as if you were past politics."

The old man shrugged, "Memories sting when they come suddenly. Listen! Judge for yourself! When Siwe

"I take it," said Mallow, "there was a civil war, or a revolution."

Barr's face darkened. "Civil wars are chronic in these degenerate days, but Siwe

"But he failed. For when the Emperor's Admiral approached the province at the head of a fleet, Siwe

Mallow found himself tense on the edge of his seat, and relaxed slowly, "Please continue, sir."

"Thank you," said Barr, wearily. "It's kind of you to humor an old man. They rebelled; or I should say, we rebelled, for I was one of the minor leaders. Wiscard left Siwe

"Well?" urged Mallow, gently.

"Well, came the grim retort, "that didn't suit the admiral. He wanted the glory of conquering a rebellious province and his men wanted the loot such conquest would involve. So while the people were still gathered in every large city, cheering the Emperor and his admiral, he occupied all armed centers, and then ordered the population put to the nuclear blast."

"On what pretext?"

"On the pretext that they had rebelled against their viceroy, the Emperor's anointed. And the admiral became the new viceroy, by virtue of one month of massacre, pillage and complete horror. I had six sons. Five died - variously. I had a daughter. I hope she died, eventually. I escaped because I was old. I came here, too old to cause even our viceroy worry." He bent his gray head, "They left me nothing, because I had helped drive out a rebellious governor and deprived an admiral of his glory."

Mallow sat silent, and waited. Then, "What of your sixth son?" he asked softly.

"Eh?" Barr smiled acidly. "He is safe, for he has joined the admiral as a common soldier under an assumed name. He is a gu

"And you tell this to a stranger? You endanger your son."

"No. I help him, by introducing a new enemy. And were I a friend of the viceroy, as I am his enemy, I would tell him to string outer space with ships, clear to the rim of the Galaxy."

"There are no ships there?"

"Did you find any? Did any space-guards question your entry? With ships few enough, and the bordering provinces filled with their share of intrigue and iniquity, none can be spared to guard the barbarian outer suns. No danger ever threatened us from the broken edge of the Galaxy, -until you came."