Foundation's Edge

No one had really believed her. She was at home in the political wars to an extent few before her had been, and now that Seldon's image had come and gone there was no hint of retirement about her.

She spoke in a perfectly clear voice with an unashamed Foundation accent (she had once served as Ambassador to Mandrels, but had not adopted the old Imperial style of speech that was so fashionable now—and was part of what had been a quasi-Imperial drive to the I

She said, “The Seldon Crisis is over and it is a tradition, and a wise one, that no reprisals of any kind—either in deed or in speech—be taken against those who supported the wrong side. Many honest people believed they had good reason for wanting that which Seldon did not want. There is no point in humiliating them to the point where they can retrieve their self-respect only by denouncing the Seldon Plan itself. In turn, it is a strong and desirable custom that those who supported the lost side accept the loss cheerfully and without further discussion. The issue is behind us, on both sides, forever.”

She paused, gazed levelly at the assembled faces for a moment, then went on, “Half the time has passed, people of the Council half the thousand-year stretch between Empires. It has been a time of difficulties, but we have come a fang way. We are, indeed, almost a Galactic Empire already and there remain no external enemies of consequence.

“The Interregnum would have endured thirty thousand years, were it not for the Seldon Plan. After thirty thousand years of disintegration, it might be there would be no strength left with which to form an Empire again. There might be left only isolated and probably dying worlds.

“What we have today we owe to Hari Seldom and it is upon his long-dead mind that we must rely far the rest. The danger henceforward, Councillors, is ourselves, and from this point on there must be no official doubt of the value of the Flan. Let us agree nosy, quietly and firmly, that there are to be no official doubts, criticisms, or condemnations of the Plan. We must support it completely. It has proved itself over five centuries. It is the security of humanity and it must not be tampered with. Is it agreed?”

There was a quiet murmur. The Mayor hardly looked up to seek visual proof of agreement. She knew every member of the Council and how each would react. In the wake of the victory, there would be no objection now. Next year perhaps. Not now. She would tackle the problems of next year next year.

Always except for—

“Thought control, Mayor Bra

Bra

“That the government ca

Bra

“There is no limit to free speech within the context of the Seldon Plan. It is only the Plan itself that limits us by its very nature. There can be many ways of interpreting events before the image makes the final decision, but once he makes that decision it can be questioned no further in Council. Nor may it be questioned in advance as though one were to say, ‘If Hari Seldon were to state thus-and-so, he would be wrong.’”

“And yet if one honestly felt so, Madam Mayor?”

“Then one could say so, if one were a private individual, discussing fine matter in a private context.”

“You mean, then, that the limitations on free speech which you propose are to apply entirely and specifically to government officials?”

“Exactly. This is not a new principle of Foundation law. It has been applied before by Mayors of all parties. A private point of view means nothing; an official expression of opinion carries weight and can be dangerous. We have not come this far to risk danger now.”

“May I point out, Madam Mayor, that this principle of yours has been applied, sparsely and occasionally, to specific acts of Council. It has never been applied to something as vast and indefinable as the Seldon Plan.”

“The Seldon Plan needs the protection most, for it is precisely there that questioning can be most fatal.”

“Will you not consider, Mayor Bra

“We have all witnessed its workings today,” said Mayor Bra

“It is precisely because we have seen its workings today, Councilmen and Councilwomen, that we can see that the Seldon Plan, as we have been taught to believe it to be, ca

“Councilman Trevize, you are out of order and must not continue along these lines.”

“I have the privilege of office, Mayor.”

“That privilege has been withdrawn, Councilman.”

“You ca

“The withdrawal, Councilman, has nothing to do with my statement protecting the Seldon Plan.”

“On what, then, does it depend?”

“You are accused of treason, Councilman. I wish to do the Council the courtesy of not arresting you within the Council Chamber, but waiting at the door are members of Security who will take you into custody as you leave. I will ask you now to leave quietly. If you make any ill-considered move, then, of course, that will be considered a present danger and Security will enter the Chamber. I trust you will not make that necessary.”

Trevize frowned. There svgs absolute silence in the hall. (Did everyone expect this—everyone but himself and Compor?) He looked back at the exit. He saw nothing, but he had no doubt that Mayor Bra

He stammered in rage. “I repre—represent an important constituency, Mayor Bra

“No doubt, they will be disappointed in you.”

“On what evidence do you bring forth this wild charge?”

“That will appear in due course, but be assured that we have all we need. You are a most indiscreet young man and should realize that someone may be your friend and yet not be willing to accompany you into treason:”

Trevize whirled to meet Compor's blue eyes. They met his stonily.

Mayor Bra

Golan Trevize turned, mounted the steps again, and, at the door, two men in uniform, well armed, fell in on either side.

And Harla Bra

Liono Kodell had been Director of Security through all of Mayor Bra

He looked comfortable and friendly, and it might well be that this was appropriate for the job. He was rather below the average height, rather above the average weight, had a bushy mustache (most unusual for a citizen of Terminus) that was now more white than gray, bright brown eyes, and a characteristic patch of primary color marking the outer breast pocket of his drab coverall.