Forward the Foundation - Isaac Asimov [65]
"And is he involved with the Joranumites?"
Seldon made an uncertain gesture. "I'm under the impression that the security establishment knows nothing about the Joranumites. That may mean that the Joranumites no longer exist or that, if they do, they are of no importance. It may also mean that the security establishment just isn't interested. Nor is there any way in which I can force it to be interested. I'm only thankful the officers give me any information at all. And I am the First Minister."
"Is it possible that you're not a very good First Minister?" said Dors, dryly.
"That's more than possible. It's probably been generations since there's been an appointee less suited to the job than myself. But that has nothing to do with the security establishment. It's a totally independent arm of the government. I doubt that Cleon himself knows much about it, though, in theory, the security officers are supposed to report to him through their director. Believe me, if we only knew more about the security establishment, we'd be trying to stick its actions into our psychohistorical equations, such as they are."
"Are the security officers on our side, at least?"
"I believe so, but I can't swear to it."
"And why are you interested in this what's-his-name?"
"Gleb Andorin. Because I received a roundabout message from Raych."
Dors's eyes flashed. "Why didn't you tell me? Is he all right?"
"As far as I know, but I hope he doesn't try any further messages. If he's caught communicating, he won't be all right. In any case, he has made contact with Andorin."
"And the Joranumites, too?"
"I don't think so. It would sound unlikely, for the connection is not something that would make sense. The Joranumite movement is predominantly lower-class-a proletarian movement, so to speak. And Andorin is an aristocrat of aristocrats. What would he be doing with the Joranumites?"
"If he's of the Wyan Mayoralty family, he might aspire to the Imperial throne, might he not?"
"They've been aspiring for generations. You remember Rashelle, I trust. She was Andorin's aunt."
"Then he might be using the Joranumites as a stepping-stone, don't you think?"
"If they exist. And if they do-and if a stepping-stone is what Andorin wants-I think he'd find himself playing a dangerous game. The Joranumites-if they exist-would have their own plans and a man like Andorin may find he's simply riding a greti-"
"What's a greti?"
"Some extinct animal of a ferocious type, I think. It's just a proverbial phrase back on Helicon. If you ride a greti, you find you can't get off, for then it will eat you."
Seldon paused. "One more thing. Raych seems to be involved with a woman who knows Andorin and through whom, he thinks, he may get important information. I'm telling you this now so that you won't accuse me afterward of keeping anything from you."
Dors frowned. "A woman?"
"One, I gather, who knows a great many men who will talk to her unwisely, sometimes, under intimate circumstances."
"One of those." Her frown deepened. "I don't like the thought of Raych-"
"Come, come. Raych is thirty years old and undoubtedly has much experience. You can leave this woman-or any woman, I think-safely to Raych's good sense." He turned toward Dors with a look so worn, so weary, and said, "Do you think I like this? Do you think I like any of this?"
And Dors could find nothing to say.
16
Gambol Deen Namarti was not, at even the best of times, noted for his politeness and suavity-and the approaching climax of a decade of planning had left his disposition sour.
He rose from his chair with some agitation and said, "You've taken your time getting here, Andorin."
Andorin shrugged. "But I'm here."
"And this young man of yours-this remarkable tool that you're touting. Where is he?"
"He'll be here eventually."
"Why not now?"
Andorin's rather handsome head seemed to sink a bit, as though he were lost in thought or coming to a decision, and