Forward the Foundation - Isaac Asimov [233]
"Langano University."
Seldon frowned. "Langano? Stop me if I'm wrong, but that's not on Trantor, is it?"
"No. I wanted to try a different world. The Universities on Trantor, as you undoubtedly know very well, are all overcrowded. I wanted to find a place where I could study in peace."
"And what did you study?"
"Nothing much. History. Not the sort of thing that would lead one to a good job."
(Another wince, even worse than the first. Dors Venabili had been a historian.)
Seldon said, "But you're back here on Trantor. Why is that?"
"Credits. Jobs."
"As an historian?"
Palver laughed. "Not a chance. I run a device that pulls and hauls. Not exactly a professional occupation."
Seldon looked at Palver with a twinge of envy. The contours of Palver's arms and chest were highlighted by the thin fabric of his shirt. He was well muscled. Seldon had never himself been quite that muscular.
Seldon said, "I presume that when you were at the University, you were on the boxing team."
"Who, me? Never. I'm a Twister."
"A Twister!" Seldon's spirits jumped. "Are you from Helicon?"
Palver said with a certain contempt, "You don't have to come from Helicon to be a good Twister."
No, thought Seldon, but that's where the best ones come from.
However, he said nothing.
He did say, though, "Well, your grandfather would not join me. How about you?"
"Psychohistory?"
"I heard you talking to the others when I first encountered you and it seemed to me that you were talking quite intelligently about psychohistory. Would you like to join me, then?"
"As I said, Professor, I have a job."
"Pushing and hauling. Come, come."
"It pays well."
"Credits aren't everything."
"They're quite a bit. Now you, on the other hand, can't pay me much. I'm quite certain that you're short of credits."
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm guessing, in a way, I suppose. -But am I wrong?"
Seldon's lips pressed together hard, then he said, "No, you're not wrong and I can't pay you much. I'm sorry. I suppose that ends our little interview."
"Wait, wait, wait." Palver held up his hands. "Not quite so fast, please. We're still talking about psychohistory. If I work for you, I will be taught psychohistory, right?"
"Of course."
"In that case, credits aren't everything, after all. I'll make you a deal. You teach me all the psychohistory you can and you pay me whatever you can and I'll get by somehow. How about it?"
"Wonderful," said Seldon joyously. "That sounds great. Now, one more thing."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I've been attacked twice in recent weeks. The first time my son came to my defense, but he has since gone to Santanni. The second time I made use of my lead-filled walking stick. It worked, but I was dragged before a magistrate and accused of assault and battery-"
"Why the attacks?" interjected Palver.
"I am not popular. I have been preaching the Fall of the Empire for so long that, now that it is coming, I am blamed for it."
"I see. Now then, what does all that have to do with the one more thing you mentioned?"
"I want you to be my bodyguard. You're young, you're strong, and, most of all, you're a Twister. You're exactly what I need."
"I suppose it can be managed," Palver said with a smile.
25
"See there, Stettin," Seldon said as the two were taking an early evening stroll in one of Trantor's residential sectors near Streeling. The older man pointed to debris-assorted refuse jettisoned from passing groundcars or dropped by careless pedestrians-strewn along the walkway. "In the old days," Seldon continued, "you would never see litter like this. The security officers were vigilant and municipal maintenance crews provided round-the-clock upkeep of all public areas. But, most important, no one would even think of dumping his trash in such a manner. Trantor was our home; we took pride in it. Now"-Seldon shook his head sadly, resignedly, and sighed-"it's-" He broke off abruptly.
"You there, young man!" Seldon shouted at a ill-kempt fellow who had moments before passed them, going in the opposite direction. He was munching a treat just popped