Foundation Read Free

natural soil, green with trees, rainbowed with flowers. It was a small island amid an ocean of steel, but it wasn’t visible from where he stood. It might be ten thousand miles away. He did not know.
    Before very long, he must have his tour!
    He sighed noisily, and realized finally that he was on Trantor at last; on the planet which was the center of all the Galaxy and the kernel of the human race. He saw none of its weaknesses. He saw no ships of food landing. He was not aware of a jugular vein delicately connecting the forty billion of Trantor with the rest of the Galaxy. He was conscious only of the mightiest deed of man; the complete and almost contemptuously final conquest of a world.
    He came away a little blank-eyed. His friend of the elevator was indicating a seat next to himself and Gaal took it.
    The man smiled. “My name is Jerril. First time on Trantor?”
    “Yes, Mr. Jerril.”
    “Thought so. Jerril’s my first name. Trantor gets you if you’ve got the poetic temperament. Trantorians never come up here, though. They don’t like it. Gives them nerves.”
    “Nerves!—My name’s Gaal, by the way. Why should it give them nerves? It’s glorious.”
    “Subjective matter of opinion, Gaal. If you’re born in a cubicle and grow up in a corridor, and work in a cell, and vacation in a crowded sun-room, then coming up into the open with nothing but sky over you might just give you a nervous breakdown. They make the children come up here once a year, after they’re five. I don’t know if it does any good. They don’t get enough of it, really, and the first few times they scream themselves into hysteria. They ought to start as soon as they’re weaned and have the trip once a week.”
    He went on, “Of course, it doesn’t really matter. What if they never come out at all? They’re happy down there and they run the Empire. How high up do you think we are?”
    He said, “Half a mile?” and wondered if that sounded naive.
    It must have, for Jerril chuckled a little. He said, “No. Just five hundred feet.”
    “What? But the elevator took about—”
    “I know. But most of the time it was just getting up to ground level. Trantor is tunneled over a mile down. It’s like an iceberg. Nine-tenths of it is out of sight. It even works itself out a few miles into the sub-ocean soil at the shorelines. In fact, we’re down so low that we can make use of the temperature difference between ground level and a couple of miles under to supply us with all the energy we need. Did you know that?”
    “No, I thought you used atomic generators.”
    “Did once. But this is cheaper.”
    “I imagine so.”
    “What do you think of it all?” For a moment, the man’s good nature evaporated into shrewdness. He looked almost sly.
    Gaal fumbled. “Glorious,” he said, again.
    “Here on vacation? Traveling? Sight-seeing?”
    “Not exactly. —At least, I’ve always wanted to visit Trantor but I came here primarily for a job.”
    “Oh?”
    Gaal felt obliged to explain further. “With Dr. Seldon’s project at the University of Trantor.”
    “Raven Seldon?”
    “Why, no. The one I mean is Hari Seldon. —The psychohistorian Seldon. I don’t know of any Raven Seldon.”
    “Hari’s the one I mean. They call him Raven. Slang, you know. He keeps predicting disaster.”
    “He does?” Gaal was genuinely astonished.
    “Surely, you must know.” Jerril was not smiling. “You’re coming to work for him, aren’t you?”
    “Well yes, I’m a mathematician. Why does he predict disaster? What kind of disaster?”
    “What kind would you think?”
    “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have the least idea. I’ve read the papers Dr. Seldon and his group have published. They’re on mathematical theory.”
    “Yes, the ones they publish.”
    Gaal felt annoyed. He said, “I think I’ll go to my room now. Very pleased to have met you.”
    Jerril waved his arm indifferently in farewell.
             
    Gaal found a man waiting for