Prelude to Foundation - Isaac Asimov [163]
"But is that what you want?" asked Seldon wonderingly. "Are you telling me that you look forward to ruling over an Empire that will break up into splinters?"
Rashelle said, "That is exactly right. I would rule over Trantor, over its outlying space settlements, over the few nearby planetary systems that are part of the Trantorian Province. I would much rather be Emperor of Trantor than Emperor of the Galaxy."
"You would be satisfied with Trantor only," said Dors in tones of the deepest disbelief.
"Why not?" said Rashelle, suddenly ablaze. She leaned forward eagerly, both hands pressed palms-down on the table. "That is what my father has been planning for forty years. He is only clinging to life now to witness its fulfillment. Why do we need millions of worlds, distant worlds that mean nothing to us, that weaken us, that draw our forces far away from us into meaningless cubic parsecs of space, that drown us in administrative chaos, that ruin us with their endless quarrels and problems when they are all distant nothings as far as we are concerned? Our own populous world-our own planetary city-is Galaxy enough for us. We have all we need to support ourselves. As for the rest of the Galaxy, let it splinter. Every petty militarist can have his own splinter. They needn't fight. There will be enough for all."
"But they will fight, just the same," said Dors. "Each will refuse to be satisfied with his Province. Each will feat that his neighbor is not satisfied with his Province. Each will feel insecure and will dream of Galactic rule as the only guarantee of safety. This is certain, Madam Empress of Nothing. There will be endless wars into which you and Trantor will be inevitably drawn-to the ruin of all."
Rashelle said with clear contempt, "So it might seem, if one could see no farther than you do, if one relied on the ordinary lessons of history."
"What is there to see farther?" retorted Dors. "What is one to rely on beyond the lessons of history?"
"What lies beyond?" said Rashelle. "Why, he.'"
And her arm shot outward, her index finger jabbing toward Seldon.
"Me?" said Seldon. "I have already told you that psychohistory-"
Rashelle said, "Do not repeat what you have already said, my good Dr. Seldon. We gain nothing by that. -Do you think, Dr. Venabili, that my father was never aware of the danger of endless civil war? Do you think he did not bend his powerful mind to thinking of some way to prevent that? He has been prepared at any time these last ten years to take over the Empire in a day. It needed only the assurance of security beyond victory."
"Which you can't have," said Dors.
"Which we had the moment we heard of Dr. Seldon's paper at the Decennial Convention. I saw at once that that was what we needed. My father was too old to see the significance at once. When I explained it, however, he saw it too and it was then that he formally transferred his power to me. So it is to you, Hari, that I owe my position and to you I will owe my greater position in the future."
"I keep telling you that it cannot-" began Seldon with deep annoyance.
"It is not important what can or cannot be done. What is important is what people will or will not believe can be done. They will believe you, Hari, when you tell them the psychohistoric prediction is that Trantor can rule itself and that the Provinces can become Kingdoms that will live together in peace."
"I will make no such prediction," said Seldon, "in the absence of true psychohistory. I won't play the charlatan. If you want something like that, you say it."
"Now, Hari. They won't believe me. It's you they will believe. The great mathematician. Why not oblige them?"
"As it happens," said Seldom "the Emperor also thought to use me as a source of self-serving prophecies. I refused to do it for him, so do you think I will agree to do it for you?"
Rashelle was silent for a while and when she spoke again her voice had lost its intense excitement and became