Being driven to desperation, it occured to him to seek a strong ally.
Whereupon he approached a man, and offered an alliance, pointing out that the wolf was likewise an enemy of the man.
The man accepted the partnership at once and offered to kill the wolf immediately, if his new partner would only co-operate by placing his greater speed at the man's disposal.
The horse was willing, and allowed the man to place bridle and saddle upon him.
The man mounted, hunted down the wolf, and killed him.
"The horse, joyful and relieved, thanked the man, and said:
'Now that our enemy is dead, remove your bridle and saddle and restore my freedom.'
"Whereupon the man laughed loudly and replied,
'Never!' and applied the spurs with a will."
Silence still.
The shadow that was Wienis did not stir.
Hardin continued quietly,
"You see the analogy, I hope.
In their anxiety to cement forever domination over their own people, the kings of the Four Kingdoms accepted the religion of science that made them divine; and that same religion of science was their bridle and saddle, for it placed the life blood of nuclear power in the hands of the priesthoodwho took their orders from us, be it noted, and not from you.
You killed the wolf, but could not get rid of the m-"
Wienis sprang to his feet and in the shadows, his eyes were maddened hollows. His voice was thick, incoherent.
"And yet I'll get you.
You won't escape.
You'll rot.
Let them blow us up.
Let them blow everything up. You'll rot!
I'll get you!
"Soldiers!" he thundered, hysterically.
"Shoot me down that devil.
Blast him!
Blast him!"
Hardin turned about in his chair to face the soldiers and smiled.
One aimed his nuclear blast and then lowered it.
The others never budged.
Salvor Hardin, mayor of Terminus, surrounded by that soft aura, smiling so confidently, and before whom all the power of Anacreon had crumbled to powder was too much for them, despite the orders of the shrieking maniac just beyond.
Wienis shouted incoherently and staggered to the nearest soldier. Wildly, he wrested the nuclear blast from the man's hand-aimed it at Hardin, who didn't stir, shoved the lever and held it contacted.
The pale continous beam impinged upon the force-field that surrounded the mayor of Terminus and was sucked harmlessly to neutralization.
Wienis pressed harder and laughed tearingly.
Hardin still smiled and his force-field aura scarcely brightened as it absorbed the energies of the nuclear blast.
From his comer Lepold covered his eyes and moaned.
And, with a yell of despair, Wienis changed his aim and shot again - and toppled to the floor with his head blown into nothingness.
Hardin winced at the sight and muttered,
"A man of 'direct action' to the end. The last refuge!" 9.
The Time Vault was filled; filled far beyond the available seating capacity, and men lined the back of the room, three deep.
Salvor Hardin compared this large company with the few men attending the first appearance of Hari Seldon, thirty years earlier.
There had only been six, then; the five old Encyclopedists - all dead now - and himself, the young figurehead of a mayor.
It had been on that day, that he, with Yohan Lee's assistance had removed the "figurehead" stigma from his office.
It was quite different now; different in every respect.
Every man of the City Council was awaiting Seldon's appearance.
He, himself, was still mayor, but all-powerful now; and since the utter rout of Anacreon, all-popular. When he had returned from Anacreon with the news of the death of Wienis, and the new treaty signed with the trembling Lepold, he was greeted with a vote of confidence of shrieking unanimity.
When this was followed in rapid order, by similar treaties signed with each of the other three kingdoms - treaties that gave the Foundation powers such as would forever prevent any attempts at attack similar to that of Anacreon's - torchlight processions had been held in every city street of Terminus. Not even Hari Seldon's name had been more loudly cheered.
Hardin's lips twitched.
Such popularity had been his after the first crisis also.
Across the room, Sef Sermak and Lewis Bort were engaged in animated discussion, and recent events seemed to have put them out not at all.
They had joined in the vote of confidence; made speeches in which they publicly admitted that they had been in the wrong, apologized handsomely for the use of certain phrases in earlier debates, excused themselves delicately by declaring they had merely followed the dictates of their judgement and their conscience - and immediately launched a new Actionist campaign.