"Because there are six people now - you and I, the other three ambassadors and Yohan Lee - who have a fair notion of what's ahead; and I'm damned afraid that it was Seldon's idea to have no one know."
"Why so?"
"Because even Seldon's advanced psychology was limited. It could not handle too many independent variables.
He couldn't work with individuals over any length of time; any more than you could apply kinetic theory of gases to single molecules.
He worked with mobs, populations of whole planets, and only blind mobs who do not possess foreknowledge of the results of their own actions."
"That's not plain."
"I can't help it.
I'm not psychologist enough to explain it scientifically.
But this you know. There are no trained psychologists on Terminus and no mathematical texts on the science.
It is plain that he wanted no one on Terminus capable of working out the future in advance.
Seldon wanted us to proceed blindly - and therefore correctly - according to the law of mob psychology.
As I once told you, I never knew where we were heading when I first drove out the Anacreonians.
My idea had been to maintain balance of power, no more than that.
It was only afterward that I thought I saw a pattern in events; but I've done my level best not to act on that knowledge.
Interference due to foresight would have knocked the Plan out of kilter."
Verisof nodded thoughtfully.
"I've heard arguments almost as complicated in the Temples back on Anacreon.
How do you expect to spot the fight moment of action?"
"It's spotted already.
You admit that once we repair the battle cruiser nothing will stop Wienis from attacking us.
There will no longer be any alternative in that respect."
"Yes
"All right.
That accounts for the external aspect.
Meanwhile, you'll further admit that the next election will see a new and hostile Council that will force action against Anacreon.
There is no alternative there."
"Yes."
"And as soon as all the alternatives disappear, the crisis has come.
Just the same - I get worried."
He paused, and Verisof waited.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Hardin continued,
"I've got the idea - just a notion - that the external and internal pressures were planned to come to a head simultaneously.
As it is, there's a few months difference.
Wienis will probably attack before spring, and elections are still a year off."
"That doesn't sound important."
"I don't know. It may be due merely to unavoidable errors of calculation, or it might be due to the fact that I knew too much.
I tried never to let my foresight influence my action, but how can I tell?
And what effect will the discrepancy have?
Anyway," he looked up, "there's one thing I've decided."
"And what's that?"
"When the crisis does begin to break, I'm going to Anacreon.
I want to be on the spot… Oh, that's enough, Verisof.
It's getting late.
Let's go out and make a night of it. I want some relaxation."
"Then get it right here,' said Verisof.
"I don't want to be recognized, or you know what this new party your precious Councilmen are forming would say.
Call for the brandy."
And Hardin did - but not for too much. 3.
In the ancient days when the Galactic Empire had embraced the Galaxy, and Anacreon had been the richest of the prefects of the Periphery, more than one emperor had visited the Viceregal Palace in state.
And not one had left without at least one effort to pit his skill with air speedster and needle gun against the feathered flying fortress they call the Nyakbird.