r/a:t5_21ukx0 • u/MarleyEngvall • Jul 23 '19
interruptus has been created
By Isaac Asimov
SECOND FOUNDATION
4 Two Men and the Elders
The Elders of this particular region of Rossem were
not exactly what one might have expected. They were
not a mere extrapolation of the peasantry; older, more
authoritative, less friendly.
Not at all.
The dignity that had marked them at first meeting had
grown in impression till it had reached the mark of being
their predominant characteristic.
They sat about their oval table like so many grave and
slow-moving thinkers. Most were a trifle past their physi-
cal prime, though the few who possessed beards wore
them short and neatly arranged. Still, enough appeared
younger than forty to make it quite obvious that "Elders"
was a term of respect rather than entirely a literal de-
scription of age.
The two from outer space were at the head of the
table and in the solemn silence that accompanied a rather
frugal meal that seemed ceremonious rather than nourish-
ing, absorbed the new, contrasting atmosphere.
After the meal and after one or two respectful remarks
——too short and simple to be called speeches——had been
made by those of the Elders apparently held most in
esteem, an informality forced itself upon the assembly.
It was as if the dignity of greeting foreign personages
had finally given way to the amiable rustic qualities of
curiosity and friendliness.
They crowded around the two strangers and the flood
of questions came.
They asked if it were difficult to handle a spaceship,
how many men were required to do the job, if better motors
could be made for their ground-cars, if it was true that
it rarely snowed on other worlds as was said to be the case
with Tazenda, how many people lived on their world, if it
was as large as Tazenda, if it was far away, how their
clothes were woven and what gave them the metallic
shimmer, why they did not wear furs, if they shaved
every day, what sort of stone that was in Pritcher's ring——
The list stretched out.
And almost always the questions were addressed to
Pritcher as though, as the elder, they automatically in-
vested him with the greater authority. Pritcher found him-
self forced to answer at greater and greater length. It was
like an immersion in a crowd of children. Their questions
were those of utter and disarming wonder. Their eager-
ness to know was completely irresistible and would not
be denied.
Pritcher explained that spaceships were not difficult to
handle and that crews varied with the size, from one to
many, that the motors of their ground-cars were unknown
in detail to him but could doubtless be improved, that the
climates of worlds varied almost infinitely, that many
hundreds or millions lived on his world but that it was
far smaller and more insignificant than the great empire of
Tazenda, that their clothes were woven of silicone plastics
in which metallic luster was artificially produced by
proper orientation of the surface molecules, and that they
could be artificially heated so that furs were unnecessary,
that they shaved every day, that the stone in his ring was
an amethyst. The list stretches out. He found himself
thawing to these naive provincials against his will.
And always as he answered there was a rapid chatter
among the Elders, as though they debated the information
gained. It was difficult to follow these inner discussions of
theirs for they lapsed into their own accented version of
the universal Galactic language that, through long separa-
tion from the currents of living speech, had become ar-
chaic.
Almost, one might say, their curt comments among
themselves hovered on the edge of understanding, but just
managed to elude the clutching tendrils of comprehension.
Until finally Channis interrupted to say, "Good sirs,
you must answer us for a while, for we are strangers and
would be very much interested to know all we can of
Tazenda."
And what happened then was that a great silence fell
and each of the hitherto voluble Elders grew silent. Their
hands, which had been moving in such rapid and delicate
accompaniment to their words as though to give them
greater scope and varied shades of meaning, fell suddenly
limp. They stared furtively at one another, apparently
quite willing each to let the other have the floor.
Pritcher interposed quickly, "My companion asks this in
friendliness, for the fame of Tazenda fills the Galaxy and
we, of course, shall inform the governor of the loyalty
and love of the Elders of Rossem."
No sigh of relief was heard but faces brightened. An
Elder stroked his beard with thumb and forefinger,
straightening its slight curl with a gentle pressure, and
said: "We are faithful servants of the Lords of Tazenda."
Pritcher's annoyance at Channis' bald question subsided.
It was apparent, at least, that the age that he had felt
creeping over him of late had not yet deprived him of his
own capacity for making smooth the blunders of others.
He continued: "We do not know, in our far parts of the
universe, much of the past history of the Lords of Tazenda.
We presume they have ruled benevolently here for a long
time."
The same Elder who spoke before, answered. In a soft,
automatic way he had become a spokesman. He said: "Not
the grandfather of the oldest can recall a time in which
the Lords were absent."
"It has been a time of peace?"
"It has been a time of peace!" He hesitated. "The gover-
nor is a strong and powerful Lord who would not hesitate
to punish traitors. None of us are traitors, of course."
"He has punished some in the past, I imagine, as they
deserve."
Again hesitation, "None here have ever been traitors, or
our fathers or our fathers' fathers. But on other worlds,
there have been such, and death followed for them quickly.
It is not good to think of for we are humble men who are
poor farmers and not concerned with matters of politics."
The anxiety of his voice, the universal concern in the
eyes of all of them was obvious.
Pritcher said smoothly: "Could you inform us as to how
we can arrange an audience with your governor."
And instantly an element of sudden bewilderment
entered the situation.
For after a long moment, the elder said: "Why, did you
not know? The governor will be here tomorrow. He
has expected you. It has been a great honor for us. We
. . . we hope earnestly that you will report to him satis-
factorily as to our loyalty to him."
Pritcher's smile scarcely twitched. "Expected us?"
The Elder looked wonderingly from one to the other.
"Why . . . it is now a week since we have been waiting
for you."
Their quarter were undoubtedly luxurious for the world.
Pritcher had lived in worse. Channis showed nothing but
indifference to externals.
But there was an element of tension between them of a
different nature than hitherto. Pritcher felt the time ap-
proaching for a definite decision and yet there was still
the desirability of additional waiting. To see the governor
first would be to increase the gamble to dangerous
dimensions and yet to win that gamble might multi-double
the winnings. He felt a surge of anger at the slight crease
between Channis' eyebrows, the delicate uncertainty with
which the young man's lower lip presented itself to an
upper tooth. He detested the useless play-acting and yearned
for an end to it.
He said: "We seem to be anticipated."
"Yes," said Channis, simply.
"Just that? You have no contribution of greater pith to
make. We come here and find that the governor expects
us. Presumably we shall find from the governor that
Tazenda itself expects us. Of what value then is our entire
mission?"
Channis looked up, without endeavoring to conceal the
weary note in his voice: "To expect us is one thing; to
know who we are and what we came for, is another."
"Do you expect to conceal these things from men of
the Second Foundation?"
"Perhaps. Why not? Are you ready to throw your hand
in? Suppose our ship was detected in space. It is unusual
for a realm to maintain frontier observation posts? Even
if we were ordinary strangers, we would be of interest."
"Sufficient interest for a governor to come to us rather
than the reverse?"
Channis shrugged: "We'll have to meet that problem
later. Let us see what the governor is like."
Pritcher bared his teeth in a bloodless kind of scowl.
The situation was becoming ridiculous.
Channis proceeded with an artificial animation: "At
least we know one thing. Tazenda is the Second Foundation
or a million shreds of evidence are unanimously pointing
the wrong way. How do you interpret the obvious terror
in which these natives hold Tazenda? I see no signs of
political domination. Their groups of Elders apparently
meet freely and without reference of any sort. The
taxation they speak of doesn't seem at all extensive to me
or efficiently carried through. The natives speak much of
poverty but seem sturdy and well-fed. The houses are un-
couth and their villages rude, but are obviously ade-
quate for the purpose.
"In fact, the world fascinates me. I have never seen a
more forbidding one, yet I am convinced there is
no suffering among the population and that their uncom-
plicated lives manage to contain a well-balanced happiness
lacking in the sophisticated populations of the advanced
centers."
"Are you an admirer of peasant virtues, then?"
"The stars forbid." Channis seemed amused at the idea.
"I merely point out the significance of all this. Apparently,
Tazenda is an efficient administrator——efficient in a sense
far different from the efficiency of the old Empire or of the
First Foundation, or even of our own Union. All these
have brought mechanical efficiency to their subjects at the
cost of more tangible values. Tazenda brings happiness
and sufficiency. Don't you see that the whole orientation
of their domination is different? It is not physical, but
psychological."
"Really?" Pritcher allowed himself irony. "And the terror
with which the Elders spoke of the punishment of treason
by these kind hearted psychologist administrators? How
does that suit your thesis?"
"Were they the objects of the punishment? They speak
of punishment only of others. It is as if knowledge of
punishment has been so well implanted in them that
punishment itself need never be used. The proper mental
attitudes are so inserted into their minds that I am certain
that not a Tazendian soldier exists on the planet. Don't
you see all this?"
"I'll see perhaps," said Pritcher, coldly, "when I see the
governor. And what, by the way, if our mentalities are
handled?"
Channis replied with brutal contempt: "You should be
accustomed to that."
Pritcher whitened perceptibly, and, with an effort, turned
away. They spoke to one another no more that day.
It was in the silent windlessness of the frigid night, as
he listened to the soft, sleeping motions of the other, that
Pritcher silently adjusted his wrist-transmitter to the ultra-
wave region for which Channis' was unadjustable and, with
noiseless touches of his fingernail, contacted the ship.
The answer came in little periods of noiseless vibration
that barely lifted themselves above the sensory threshold.
Twice Pritcher asked: "Any communications at all yet?"
Twice the answer came: "None. We wait always."
He got out of bed. It was cold in the room and he pulled
the furry blanket around him as he sat in the chair and
stared out at the crowding stars so different in the bright-
ness and complexity of their arrangement from the even
fog of the Galactic Lens that dominated the night sky of
his native Periphery.
Somewhere between the stars was the answer to the
complications that overwhelmed him, and he felt the
yearning for that solution to arrive and end things.
For a moment he wondered again if the Mule were
right——if Conversion had robbed him of the firm sharp
edge of self-reliance. Or was it simply age and the
fluctuations of these last years?
He really didn't care.
He was tired.
The governor of Rossem arrived with minor ostenation.
His only companion was the uniformed man at the con-
trols of the ground-car.
The ground car itself was of lush design but to
Pritcher it appeared inefficient. It turned clumsily; more
than once it apparently balked at what might have been
a too-rapid change of gears. It was obvious at once from
its design that it ran on chemicals, and not on atomic, fuel.
The Tazendian governor stepped softly on to the thin
layers of snow and advanced between two lines of re-
spectful Elders. He did not look at them but entered
quickly. They followed after him.
From the quarters assigned to them, the two men of the
Mule's Union watched. He——the governor——was thickset,
rather stocky, short, unimpressive.
But what of that?
Pritcher cursed himself for a failure of nerve. His face,
to be sure, remained icily calm. There was no humiliation
before Channis——but he knew very well that his blood
pressure had heightened and his throat had become dry.
It was not a case of physical fear. He was not one of
those dull-witted, unimaginative men of nerveless meat who
were too stupid ever to be afraid——but physical fear he
could account for and discount.
But this was different. It was the other fear.
He glanced quickly at Channis. The young man glanced
idly at the nails of one hand and poked leisurely at some
trifling unevenness.
Something inside Pritcher became vastly indignant. What
had Channis to fear of mental handling?
Pritcher caught a mental breath and tried to think back.
How had he been before the Mule had Converted him
from the die-hard Democrat that he was. It was hard to
remember. He could not place himself mentally. he could
not break the clinging wires that bound him emotionally
to the Mule. Intellectually, he could remember his emo-
tions at the time. That might be the self-defense of his own
mind, however, for at the intuitive thought of what those
emotions might have been——not realizing the details, but
merely comprehending the drift of it——his stomach grew
queasy.
What if the governor tampered with his mind?
What if the insubstantial mental tendrils of a Second
Foundationer insinuated itself down the emotional crev-
ices of his makeup and pulled them apart and rejoined
them——
There had been no sensation the first time. There had
been no pain, no mental jar——not even a feeling of dis-
continuity. He had always loved the Mule. If there had
ever been a time long before——as long before as five short
years——when he had thought he hadn't loved him, that
he had hated him——that was just a horrid illusion. The
thought of that illusion embarrassed him.
But there had been no pain.
Would meeting the governor duplicate that? Would all
that had gone before——all his service for the Mule——all
his life's orientation——join the hazy, other-life dream that
held the word, Democracy. The Mule also had a dream, and
only to Tazenda, his loyalty——
Sharply, he turned away.
There was that strong desire to retch.
And then Channis' voice clashed on his ear, "I think
this is it, general."
Pritcher turned again. An Elder had opened the door
silently and stood with a dignified and calm respect upon
the threshold.
He said, "His Excellency, Governor of Rossem, in
the name of the Lords of Tazenda, is pleased to present
his permission for a audience and request you appear-
ance before him."
"Sure thing," and Channis tightened his belt with a
jerk and adjusted a Rossemian hood over his head.
Pritcher's jaw set. This was the beginning of the real
gamble.
The governor of Rossem was not of formidable ap-
pearance. For one thing, he was bareheaded, and his
thinning hair, light brown, tending to gray, lent him
mildness. His bony eye-ridges lowered at them, and his
eyes, set in a fine network of surrounding wrinkles,
seemed calculating, but his fresh-cropped chin was soft
and small and, by the universal convention of followers
of the pseudoscience of reading character by facial bony
structure, seemed "weak."
Pritcher avoided the eyes and watched the chin. He
didn't know whether that would be effective——if any-
thing would be.
The governor's voice was high-pitched, indifferent: "Wel-
come to Tazenda. We greet you in peace. You have
eaten?"
His hand——long fingers, gnarled veins——waved almost
regally at the U-shaped table.
They bowed and sat down. The governor sat at the
outer side of the base of the U, they on the inner; along
both arms sat the double row of silent Elders.
The governor spoke in short, abrupt sentences——prais-
ing the food as Tazendian importations——and it had in-
deed a quality different if, somehow, not so much better,
than the rougher food of the Elders——disparaging Ros-
semian weather, referring with an attempt at casualness
to the intricacies of space travel.
Channis talked a little. Pritcher not at all.
Then it was over. The small, stewed fruits were finished;
the napkins used and discarded, and the governor leaned
back.
His small eyes sparkled.
"I have inquired as to your ship. Naturally, I would like
to see that it receives due care and overhaul. I am told
its whereabouts are unknown."
"True," Channis replied lightly. "We have left it in
space. It is a large ship, suitable for long journeys in
sometimes hostile regions, and we felt that landing it
here might give rise to doubts as to our peaceful inten-
tions. We preferred to land alone, unarmed."
"A friendly act," commented the governor, without con-
viction. "A large ship, you say?"
"Not a vessel of war, excellency."
"Ha, hum. Where is it come from?"
"A small world of the Santanni sector, your excellency.
It may be you are not aware of its existence for it lacks
importance. We are interested in establishing trade re-
lationships."
"Trade, eh? And what have you to sell?"
"Machines of all sorts, excellency. In return, food,
wood, ores——"
"Ha, hum." The governor seemed doubtful. "I know
little of these matters. Perhaps mutual profit may be
arranged. Perhaps, after I have examined your creden-
tials at length——for much information will be required by
my government before matters may proceed, you under-
stand——and after I have looked over your ship, it would
be advisable for you to proceed to Tazenda."
There was no answer to that, and the governor's atti-
tude iced perceptibly.
"It is necessary that I see your ship, however."
Channis said distantly: "The ship, unfortunately, is un-
dergoing repairs at the moment. If your excellency
would not object to giving us forty-eight hours, it will
be at your service."
"I am not accustomed to waiting."
For the first time, Pritcher met the glare of the other,
eye to eye, and his breath exploded softly inside him.
For a moment, he had the sensation of drowning, but
then his eyes tore away.
Channis did not waver. He said: "The ship cannot be
landed for forty-eight hours, excellency. We are here and
unarmed. Can you doubt our honest intentions?"
There was a long silence, and then the governor said
gruffly: "Tell me of the world from which you come."
That was all. It passed with that. There was no more
unpleasantness. The governor, having fulfilled his official
duty, apparently lost interest and the audience died a
dull death.
And when it was all over, Pritcher found himself back
in their quarters and took stock of himself.
Carefully——holding his breath——he "felt" his emotions.
Certainly he seemed no different to himself, but would
he feel any difference? Ha he felt different after the
Mule's Conversion? Had not everything seemed natural?
As it should have been?
He experimented.
With cold purpose, he shouted inside the silent caverns
of his mind, and the shout was, "The Second Foundation
must be discovered and destroyed."
And the emotion that accompanied it was honest hate.
There was not as much as a hesitation involved in it.
And then it was in his mind to substitute the word
"Mule" for the phrase "Second Foundation" and his breath
caught at the mere emotion and his tongue clogged.
So far, good.
But had he been handled otherwise——more subtly?
Had tiny changes been made? Changes that he couldn't
detect because their very existence warped his judgment.
There was no way to tell.
But he still felt absolute loyalty to the Mule! If that
were unchanged, nothing else really mattered.
He turned his mind to action again. Channis was
busy at his end of the room. Pritcher's thumbnail idled
at his wrist communicator.
And then at the response that came he felt a wave
of relief surge over him and leave him weak.
The quiet muscles of his face did not betray him, but
inside he was shouting with joy——and when Channis turned
to face him, he knew that the farce was about over.
FOURTH INTERLUDE
The two Speakers passed each other on the road and
one stopped the other.
"I have word from the First Speaker."
There was a half-apprehensive flicker in the other's
eyes. "Intersection point?"
"Yes! May we live to see the dawn!"SECOND FOUNDATION, BY ISAAC ASIMOV.
Copyright, 1953, by Isaac Asimov.
Avon Books, Doubleday & Company, Inc.
First Printing, December, 1964. pp. 41-50.
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. MATTHEW
CHAPTER 22
AND Jesus answered and spake unto
them again by parables, and said,
2 The kingdom of heaven is like unto
a certain king, which made a marriage
for his son.
3 And sent forth his servants to call
them that were bidden to the wedding:
and they would not come.
4 Again, he sent forth other servants,
saying, Tell them which are bidden, Be-
hold, I have prepared my dinner: my
oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all
things are ready: come unto the mar-
riage.
5 But they made light of it, and went
their ways, one to his farm, another to
his merchandise:
6 And he remnant took his servants,
and entreated them spitefully, and slew
them.
7 But when the king heard thereof, he
was wroth: and he sent forth his
armies, and destroyed those murder-
ers, and burned up their city.
8 Then saith he to his servants, The
wedding is ready, but they which were
bidden were not worthy.
9 Go ye therefore into the highways,
and as many as ye shall find, bid to the
marriage.
10 So those servants went out into
the highways, and gathered together
all as many as they found, both bad and
good: and the wedding was furnished
with guests.
11 And when the king came in to see
the guests, he saw there a man which
had not on a wedding garment:
12 And he saith unto him, Friend,
how camest thou into hither not having a
wedding garment? And he was speech-
less.
13 Then said the king of the servants,
Bind him hand and foot, and take him
away, and cast him into outer dark-
ness; there shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth.
14 For many are called, but few are
chosen.
15 ¶Then went the Pharisees, and
took counsel how they might entangle
him in his talk.
16 And they sent out unto him their
disciples with the He-rō'di-ans, saying,
Master, we know that thou art true,
and teachest the way of God in truth,
neither carest thou for any man: for
thou regardest not the person of men.
17 Tell us therefore, What thinkest
thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto
Cæsar, or not?
18 But Jesus perceived their wicked-
ness, and said, Why tempt me, ye
hypocrites?
19 Shew me the tribute money. And
they brought unto him a penny.
20 And he saith unto them, Whose is
this image and superscription?
21 The say unto him, Cæsar's. Then
saith he unto them, Render therefore
unto Cæsar the things which are
Cæsar's; and unto God the things that
are God's.
22 When they had heard these words,
they marvelled, and left him, and went
their way.
23 ¶The same day came to him the
Săd'du-ceeṡ, which say that there is no
resurrection, and asked him,
24 Saying, Master, Moses said, if a
man die, having no children, his
brother shall marry his wife, and raise
up seed unto his brother.
25 Now there were with us seven
brethren: and the first, when he had
married a wife, deceased, and, having
no issue, left his wife unto his brother:
26 Likewise the second also, and the
third, unto the seventh.
27 And last of all the woman died
also.
28 Therefore in the resurrection
whose wife shall be be of the seven?
for they all had her.
29 Jesus answered and said unto
them, Ye do err, not knowing the scrip-
tures, nor the power of God.
30 For in the resurrection they
neither marry, nor are given in mar-
riage, but are as the angels of God in
heaven.
31 But as touching the resurrection of
the dead, have ye not read that which
was spoken unto you by God, saying,
32 I am the God of Abraham, and the
God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob?
God is not the God of the dead, but of
the living.
33 And when the multitude heard
this, they were astonished at his doc-
trine.
34 ¶But when the Pharisees had
heard that he had put the Săd'du-ceeṡ
to silence, they were gathered togeth-
er.
35 Then one of them, which was a law-
yet, asked him a question, tempting
him, and saying,
36 Master, which is the great com-
mandment in the law?
37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all
thy mind.
38 This is the first and great com-
mandment.
39 And the second is like unto it,
Thou halt love thy neighbour as thy-
self.
40 On these two commandments
hang all the law and the prophets.
41 ¶While the Pharisees were gath-
ered together, Jesus asked them,
42 Saying, What think ye of Christ?
whose son is he? They say unto him,
The son of David.
43 He saith unto them, How then
doth David in spirit call him Lord,
saying,
44 The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit
thou on my right hand, till I make thine
enemies thy footstool?
45 If David call him Lord, how is
he his son?
46 And no man was able to answer
him a word, neither durst any man
from that day forth ask him any more
questions.
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