It was laid down ten years before the Zeonian Rebellion."
"A really royal drink," agreed Hardin, politely.
"To Lepold I, King of Anacreon."
They drank, and Wienis added blandly, at the pause,
"And soon to be Emperor of the Periphery, and further, who knows? The Galaxy may some day be reunited."
"Undoubtedly.
By Anacreon?"
"Why not?
With the help of the Foundation, our scientific superiority over the rest of the Periphery would be undisputable."
Hardin set his empty glass down and said,
"Well, yes, except that, of course, the Foundation is bound to help any nation that requests scientific aid of it.
Due to the high idealism of our government and the great moral purpose of our founder, Hari Seldon, we are unable to play favorites.
That can't be helped, your highness."
Wienis' smile broadened.
"The Galactic Spirit, to use the popular cant, helps those who help themselves.
I quite understand that, left to itself, the Foundation would never cooperate."
"I wouldn't say that.
We repaired the Imperial cruiser for you, though my board of navigation wished it for themselves for research purposes."
The regent repeated the last words ironically.
"Research purposes!
Yes!
Yet you would not have repaired it, had I not threatened war."
Hardin made a deprecatory gesture.
"I don't know."
"I do.
And that threat always stood."
"And still stands now?"
"Now it is rather too late to speak of threats."
Wienis had cast a rapid glance at the clock on his desk.
"Look here, Hardin, you were on Anacreon once before.
You were young then; we were both young. But even then we had entirely different ways of looking at things.
You're what they call a man of peace, aren't you?"
"I suppose I am. At least, I consider violence an uneconomical way of attaining an end.
There are always better substitutes, though they may sometimes be a little less direct."
"Yes. I've heard of your famous remark:
'Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.'
And yet" - the regent scratched one ear gently in affected abstraction -"I wouldn't call myself exactly incompetent."
Hardin nodded politely and said nothing.
"And in spite of that," Wienis continued, "I have always believed in direct action.
I have believed in carving a straight path to my objective and following that path.
I have accomplished much that way, and fully expect to accomplish still more."
"I know," interrupted Hardin.
"I believe you are carving a path such as you describe for yourself and your children that leads directly to the throne, considering the late unfortunate death of the king's father - your elder brother and the king's own precarious state of health.
He is in a precarious state of health, is he not?"
Wienis frowned at the shot, and his voice grew harder.
"You might find it advisable, Hardin, to avoid certain subjects.
You may consider yourself privileged as mayor of Terminus to make… uh… injudicious remarks, but if you do, please disabuse yourself of the notion.
I am not one to be frightened at words.
It has been my philosophy of life that difficulties vanish when faced boldly, and I have never turned my back upon one yet."
"I don't doubt that.