She virtually beamed at Gendibal, who felt a reluctant admiration for the manner in which she shifted direction instantly in order to cut her losses. He also felt that all this was but preliminary to an attack from a new direction.

He was certain that what was coming would not be pleasant.

When she exerted herself to be charming, Speaker Delora Delarmi had a way of dominating the Speaker's Table. Her voice grew soft, her smile indulgent, her eyes sparkling, all of her sweet. No one cared to interrupt her and everyone waited for the blow to fall.

She said, "Thanks to Speaker Gendibal, I think we all now understand what we must do. We do not see the Anti-Mules; we know nothing about them, except for their fugitive touches on the minds of people right here in the stronghold of the Second Foundation itself. We do not know what the power center of the First Foundation is planning. We may face an alliance of the Anti-Mules and the First Foundation. We don't know.

"We do know that this Golan Trevize and his companion, whose name escapes me at the moment, are going we know not where- and that the First Speaker and Gendibal feel that Trevize holds the key to the outcome of this great crisis. What, then, are we to do? Clearly we must find out everything we can about Trevize; where he is going, what he is thinking, what his purpose may be; or, indeed, whether he has any destination, any thought, any purpose; whether he might not, in fact, be a mere tool of a force greater than he."

Gendibal said, "He is under observation."

Delarmi pursed her lips in an indulgent smile. "By whom? By one of our outworld agents? Are such agents to be expected to stand against those with the powers we have seen demonstrated here? Surely not. In the Mule's time, and later on, too, the Second Foundation did not hesitate to send out-and even to sacrifice-volunteers from among the best we had, since nothing less would do. When it was necessary to restore the Seldon Plan, Preem Palver himself scoured the Galaxy as a Trantorian trader in order to bring back that girl, Arkady. We cannot sit here and wait, now, when the crisis may be greater than in either previous case. We cannot rely on minor functionaries-watchers and messenger boys."

Gendibal said, "Surely you are not suggesting that the First Speaker leave Trantor at this time?"

Delarmi said, "Certainly not. We need him badly here. On the other hand, there is you, Speaker Gendibal. It is you who have correctly sensed and weighed the crisis. It is you who detected the subtle outside interference with the Library and with Hamish minds. It is you who have maintained your views against the united opposition of the Table-and won. No one here has seen as clearly as you have and no one can be trusted, as you can, to continue to see clearly. It is you who must, in my opinion, go out to confront the enemy. May I have the sense of the Table?"

There was no formal vote needed to reveal that sense. Each Speaker felt the minds of the others and it was clear to a suddenly appalled Gendibal that, at the moment of his victory and Delarmi's defeat, this formidable woman was managing to send him irrevocably into exile on a task that might occupy him for some indefinite period, while she remained behind to control the Table and, therefore, the Second Foundation and, therefore, the Galaxy-sending all alike, perhaps, to their doom.

And if Gendibal-in-exile should, somehow, manage to gather the information that would enable the Second Foundation to avert the gathering crisis, it would be Delarmi who would have the credit for having arranged it, and his success would but confirm her power. The quicker Gendibal would be, the more efficiently he succeeded, the more surely he would confirm her power.

It was a beautiful maneuver, an unbelievable recovery.

And so clearly was she dominating the Table even now that she was virtually usurping the First Speaker's role. Gendibal's thought to that effect was overtaken by the rage he sensed from the First Speaker.

He turned. The First Speaker was making no effort to hide his anger-and it soon was clear that another internal crisis was building to replace the one that had been resolved.

Quindor Shandess, the twenty-fifth First Speaker, had no extraordinary illusions about himself.

He knew he was not one of those few dynamic First Speakers who had illuminated the five-century-long history of the Second Foundation-but then, he didn't have to be. He controlled the Table in a quiet period of Galactic prosperity and it was not a time for dynamism. It had seemed to be a time to play a holding game and he had been the man for this role. His predecessor had chosen him for that reason.

"You are not an adventurer, you are a scholar," the twenty-fourth First Speaker had said. "You will preserve the Plan, where an adventurer might ruin it. Preserve! Let that be the key word for your Table."

He had tried, but it had meant a pa.s.sive First Speakership and this had been, on occasion, interpreted as weakness. There had been recurrent rumors that he meant to resign and there had been open intrigue to a.s.sure the succession in one direction or another.

There was no doubt in Shandess's mind that Delarmi had been a leader in the fight. She was the strongest personality at the Table and even Gendibal, with all the fire and folly of youth, retreated before her, as he was doing right now.

But, by Seldon, pa.s.sive he might be, or even weak, but there was one prerogative of the First Speaker that not one in the line had ever given up, and neither would he do so.

He rose to speak and at once there was a hush about the Table. 'When the First Speaker rose to speak, there could be no interruptions. Even Delarmi or Gendibal would not dare to interrupt.

He said, "Speakers! I agree that we face a dangerous crisis and that we must take strong measures. It is I who should go out to meet the enemy. Speaker Delarmi, with the gentleness that characterizes her, excuses me from the task by stating that I am needed here. The truth, however, is that I am needed neither here nor there. I grow old; I grow weary. There has long been expectation I would someday resign and perhaps I ought to. When this crisis is successfully surmounted, I shall resign.

"But, of course, it is the privilege of the First Speaker to choose his successor. I am going to do so now. There is one Speaker who has long dominated the proceedings of the Table; one Speaker who, by force of personality, has- often supplied the leadership that I could not. You all know I am speaking of Speaker Delarmi."

He paused, then said, "You alone, Speaker Gendibal, are registering disapproval. May I ask why?" He sat down, so that Gendibal might have the right to answer.

"I do not disapprove, First Speaker," said Gendibal in a low voice. "It is your prerogative to choose your successor."

"And so I will. 'When you return-having succeeded in initiating the process that will put an end to this crisis-it will be time for my resignation. My successor will then be directly in charge of conducting whatever policies may be required to carry on and complete that process. -Do you have anything to say, Speaker Gendibal?"

Gendibal said quietly, "When you make Speaker Delarmi your successor, First Speaker, I hope you will see fit to advise her to-"

The First Speaker interrupted him roughly. "I have spoken of Speaker Delarmi, but I have not named her as my successor. Now what do you have to say?"

"My apologies, First Speaker. I should have said, a.s.suming you make Speaker Delarmi your successor upon my return from this mission, would you see fit to advise her to-"

"Nor will I make her my successor in the future, under any conditions. Now what do you have to say?" The First Speaker was unable to make this announcement without a stab of satisfaction at the blow he was delivering to Delarmi. He could not have done it in a more humiliating fashion.

"Well, Speaker Gendibal," he said, "what do you have to say?"

"That I am confused."

The First Speaker rose again. He said, "Speaker Delarmi has dominated and led, but that is not all that is needed for the post of First Speaker. Speaker Gendibal has seen what we have not seen. He has faced the united hostility of the Table, and forced it to rethink matters, and has dragged it into agreement with him. I have my suspicions as to the motivation of Speaker Delarmi in placing the responsibility of the pursuit of Golan Trevize on the shoulders of Speaker Gendibal, but that is where the burden belongs. I know he will succeed-I trust my intuition in this-and when he returns, Speaker Gendibal will become the twenty-sixth First Speaker."

He sat down abruptly and each Speaker began to make clear his opinion in a bedlam of sound, tone, thought, and expression. The First Speaker paid no attention to the cacophony, but stared indifferently before him. Now that it was done, he realized-with some surprise-the great comfort there was in laying down the mantle of responsibility. He should have done it before this-but he couldn't have.

It was not till now that he had found his obvious successor.

And then, somehow, his mind caught that of Delarmi and he looked up at her.

By Seldon! She was calm and smiling. Her desperate disappointment did not show-she had not given up. He wondered if he had played into her hands. 'What was there left for her to do?

Debra Delarmi would freely have shown her desperation and disappointment, if that would have proven of any use whatever.

It would have given her a great deal of satisfaction to strike out at that senile fool who controlled the Table or at that juvenile idiot with whom Fortune had conspired-but satisfaction wasn't what she wanted. She wanted something more.

She wanted to be First Speaker.

And while there was a card left to play, she would play it.

She smiled gently, and managed to lift her hand as though she were about to speak, and then held the pose just long enough to insure that when she did speak, all would be not merely normal, but radiantly quiet.

She said, "First Speaker, as Speaker Gendibal said earlier, I do not disapprove. It is your prerogative to choose your successor. If I speak now, it is in order that I may contribute-I hope-to the success of what has now become Speaker Gendibal's mission. May I explain my thoughts, First Speaker?"

"Do so," said the First Speaker curtly. She was entirely too smooth, too pliant, it seemed to him.

Delarmi bent her head gravely. She no longer smiled. She said, "We have ships. They are not as technologically magnificent as those of the First Foundation, but they will carry Speaker Gendibal He knows how to pilot one, I believe, as do we all. We have our representatives on every major planet in the Galaxy, and he will be welcomed everywhere. Moreover, he can defend himself against even these Anti-Mules, now that- he is thoroughly aware of the danger. Even when we were unaware, I suspect they have preferred to work through the lower cla.s.ses and even the Hamish farmers. We will, of course, thoroughly inspect the minds of all the Second Foundationers, including the Speakers, but I am sure they have remained inviolate. The Anti-Mules did not dare interfere with us.

"Nevertheless, there is no reason why Speaker Gendibal should risk more than he must. He is not intending to engage in derring-do and it will be best if his mission is to some extent disguised-if he takes them unaware. It will be useful if he goes in the role of a Hamish trader. Preem Palver, we all know, went off into the Galaxy as a supposed trader."

The First Speaker said, "Preem Palver had a specific purpose in doing so; Speaker Gendibal has not. If it appears a disguise of some sort is necessary, I am sure he will be ingenious enough to adopt one."

"With respect, First Speaker, I wish to point out a subtle disguise. Preem Palver, you will remember, took with him his wife and companion of many years. Nothing so thoroughly established the rustic nature of his character as the fact that he was traveling with his wife. It allayed all suspicion."

Gendibal said, "I have no wife. I have had companions, but none who would now volunteer to a.s.sume the marital role."

"This is well known, Speaker Gendibal," said Delarmi, "but then people will take the role for granted if any woman is with you. Surely some volunteer can be found. And if you feel the need to be able to present doc.u.mentary evidence, that can be provided. I think a woman should come with you."

For a moment, Gendibal was breathless. Surely she did not mean- Could it be a ploy to achieve a share in the success? Could she be playing for a joint-or rotating-occupation of the First Speakership?

Gendibal said grimly, "I am flattered that Speaker Delarmi should feel that she-"

And Delarmi broke into an open laugh and looked at Gendibal with what was almost true affection. He had fallen into the trap and looked foolish for having done so. The Table would not forget that.

She said, "Speaker Gendibal, I would not have the impertinence to attempt to share in this task. it is yours and yours alone, as the post of First Speaker will be yours and yours alone. I would not have thought you wanted me with you. Really, Speaker, at my age, I no longer think of myself as a charmer-"

There were smiles around the Table and even the First Speaker tried to hide one.

Gendibal felt the stroke and labored not to compound the loss by failing to match her lightness. It was labor lost.

He said, as unsavagely as he could, "Then what is it you would suggest? It was not in my thoughts, I a.s.sure you, that you would wish to accompany me. You are at your best at the Table and not in the hurly-burly of Galactic affairs, I know."

"I agree, Speaker Gendibal, I agree," said Delarmi. "My suggestion, however, refers back to your role as Hamish trader. To make it indisputably authentic, what better companion need you ask but a Hamishwoman?"

"A Hamishwoman?" For a second time in rapid succession, Gendibal was caught by surprise and the Table enjoyed it.

"The Hamishwoman," Delarmi went on. "The one who saved you from a beating. The one who gazes at you worshipfully. The one whose mind you probed and who then, quite unwittingly, saved you a second time from considerably more than a beating. I suggest you take her."

Gendibal's impulse was to refuse, but he knew that she expected that. It would mean more enjoyment for the Table. It was clear now that the First Speaker, anxious to strike out at Delarmi, had made a mistake by naming Gendibal his successor-or, at the very least, that Delarmi had quickly converted it into one.

Gendibal was the youngest of the Speakers. He had angered the Table and had then avoided conviction by them. In a very real way, he had humiliated them. None could see him as the heir apparent without resentment.

That would have been hard enough to overcome, but now they would remember how easily Delarmi had twitched him into ridicule and how much they had enjoyed it. She would use that to convince them, all too easily, that he lacked the age and experience for the role of First Speaker. Their united pressure would force the First Speaker into changing his decision while Gendibal was off on his mission. Or, if the First Speaker held fast, Gendibal would eventually find himself with an office that would be forever helpless in the face of united opposition.

He saw it all in an instant and was able to answer as though with out hesitation.- He said, "Speaker Delarmi, I admire your insight. I had thought to surprise you all. It was indeed my intention to take the Hamishwoman, though not quite for the very good reason you suggest. It was for her mind that I wished to take her with me. You have all examined that mind. You saw it for what it was: surprisingly intelligent but, more than that, clear, simple, utterly without guile. No touch upon it by others would go unnoticed, as I'm sure you all concluded.

"I wonder if it occurred to you, then, Speaker Delarmi, that she would serve as an excellent early-warning system. I would detect the first symptomatic presence of mentalism by way of her mind, earlier, I think, than by way of mine."

There was a kind of astonished silence at that, and he said, lightly. "Ah, none of you saw that. Well well, not important! And I will take my leave now. There's no time to lose."

"Wait," said Delarmi, her initiative lost a third time. "What do you intend to do?"

Gendibal said with a small shrug. "Why go into details? The less the Table knows, the less the Anti-Mules are likely to attempt to disturb it."

He said it as though the safety of the Table was his prime concern. He filled his mind with that, and let it show.

It would flatter them. More than that, the satisfaction it would bring might keep them from wondering whether, in fact, Gendibal knew exactly what it was he intended to do.

The First Speaker spoke to Gendibal alone that evening.

"You were right," he said. "I could not help brushing below the surface of your mind. I saw you considered the announcement a mistake and it was. It was my eagerness to wipe that eternal smile off her face and to strike back at the casual way in which she so frequently usurps my role."

Gendibal said gently, "It might have been better if you had told me privately and had then waited for my return to go further."

"That would not have allowed me to strike out at her. -Poor motivation for a First Speaker, I know."

"This won't stop her, First Speaker. She will still intrigue for the post and perhaps with good reason. I'm sure there are some who would argue that I should have refused your nomination. It would not be hard to argue that Speaker Delarmi has the best mind at the Table and would make the best First Speaker."

"The best mind at the Table, not away from it," grumbled Shandess. "She recognizes no real enemies, except for other Speakers. She ought never to have been made a Speaker in the first place. -See here, shall I forbid you to take the Hamishwoman? She maneuvered you into that, I know."

"No no, the reason I advanced for taking her is a true one. She will be an early-warning system and I am grateful to Speaker Delarmi for pushing me into realizing that. The woman will prove very useful, I'm convinced."

"Good, then. By the way, I wasn't lying, either. I am truly certain that you will accomplish whatever is needed to end this crisis-if you can trust my intuition."

"I think I can trust it, for I agree with you. I promise you that whatever happens, I will return better than I receive. I will come back to be First Speaker, whatever the Anti-Mules-or Speaker Delarmi-can do."

Gendibal studied his own satisfaction even as he spoke. Why was he so pleased, so insistent, on this one-ship venture into s.p.a.ce? Ambition, of course. Preem Palver had once done just this sort of thing -and he was going to show that Stor Gendibal could do it, too. No one could withhold the First Speakership from him after that. And yet was there more than ambition? The lure of combat? The generalized desire for excitement in one who had been confined to a hidden patch on a backward planet all his adult life? -He didn't entirely know, but he knew he was desperately intent on going.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SAYSh.e.l.l

JANOV PELORAT WATCHED, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE, AS THE bright star graduated into an orb after what Trevize had called a "micro-Jump." The fourth planet-the habitable one and their immediate destination, Saysh.e.l.l-then grew in size and prominence more slowly-over a period of days.

A map of the planet had been produced by the computer and was displayed on a portable screening device, which Pelorat held in his lap.

Trevize-with the aplomb of someone who had, in his time, touched down upon several dozen worlds-said, "Don't start watching too hard too soon, Janov. We have to go through the entry station first and that can be tedious."

Pelorat looked up. "Surely that's just a formality."

"It is. But it can still be tedious."

"But it's peacetime."

"Of course. That means we'll be pa.s.sed through. First, though, there's a little matter of the ecological balance. Every planet has its own and they don't want it upset. So they make a natural point of checking the ship for undesirable organisms, or infections. It's a reasonable precaution."

"We don't have such things, it seems to me."

"No, we don't and they'll find that out. Remember, too, that Saysh.e.l.l is not a member of the Foundation Federation, so there's certain to be some leaning over backward to demonstrate their independence."

A small ship came out to inspect them and a Saysh.e.l.lian Customs official boarded. Trevize was brisk, not having forgotten his military days.

"The Far Star, out of Terminus," he said. "Ship's papers. Unarmed. Private vessel. My pa.s.sport. There is one pa.s.senger. His pa.s.sport. We are tourists."

The Customs official wore a garish uniform in which crimson was the dominating color. Cheeks and upper lip were smooth-shaven, but he wore a short beard parted in such a way that tufts thrust out to both sides of his chin. He said, "Foundation ship?"

He p.r.o.nounced it "Foundaysun sip," but Trevize was careful neither to correct him nor to smile. There were as many varieties of dialects to Galactic Standard as there were planets, and you just spoke your own. As long as there was cross-comprehension, it didn't matter.