Isaac Asimov Fullscreen Base (1951)

Pause

I don't care what threats you use.

I control the mob, -for today, at any rate.

He won't dare face them."

"But on what charge, man?"

"On the obvious one.

They've been inciting the priesthood of the outer planets to take sides in the factional quarrels of the Foundation.

That's illegal, by Seldon.

Charge them with 'endangering the state.'

And I don't care about a conviction any more than they did in my case.

Just get them out of circulation until I'm mayor."

"It's half a year till election."

"Not too long!"

Mallow was on his feet, and his sudden grip of Jael's arm was tight.

"Listen, I'd seize the government by force if I had to - the way Salvor Hardin did a hundred years ago.

There's still that Seldon crisis coming up, and when it comes I have to be mayor and high priest. Both!"

Jael's brow furrowed.

He said, quietly,

"What's it going to be?

Korell, after all?"

Mallow nodded,

"Of course.

They'll declare war, eventually, though I'm betting it'll take another pair of years."

"With nuclear ships?"

"What do you think?

Those three merchant ships we lost in their space sector weren't knocked over with compressed-air pistols.

Jael, they're getting ships from the Empire itself.

Don't open your mouth like a fool.

I said the Empire!

It's still there, you know.

It many be gone here in the Periphery but in the Galactic center it's still very much alive.

And one false move means that it, itself, may be on our neck.

That's why I must be mayor and high priest.

I'm the only man who knows how to fight the crisis."

Jael swallowed dryly,

"How?

What are you going to do?"

"Nothing."

Jael smiled uncertainly,

"Really!

All of that!"

But Mallow's answer was incisive,

"When I'm boss of this Foundation, I'm going to do nothing. One hundred percent of nothing, and that is the secret of this crisis." 16.

Asper Argo, the Well-Beloved, Commdor of the Korellian Republic greeted his wife's entry by a hangdog lowering of his scanty eyebrows.

To her at least, his self-adopted epithet did not apply.

Even he knew that.

She said, in a voice as sleek as her hair and as cold as her eyes,

"My gracious lord, I understand, has finally come to a decision upon the fate of the Foundation upstarts."

"Indeed?" said the Commdor, sourly.

"And what more does your versatile understanding embrace?"

"Enough, my very noble husband.