Hari swallowed, his irritation increasing. “I believe you are counting spouses and children.”
The advocate leaned forward and raised his voice, having caught this huge discrepancy, to his professional glee. “Ninety-eight thousand five hundred and seventy-two individuals is the intent of my statement. There is no need to quibble.”
Boon gave a small nod. Hari clenched his teeth, then said. “I accept the figures.”
The advocate referred to his notes on a legal slate before proceeding. “Let us drop that for the moment, then, and take up another matter which we have already discussed at some length. Would you repeat, Dr. Seldon, your thoughts concerning the future of Trantor?”
“I have said, and I say again, that Trantor will lie in ruins within the next five centuries.”
“You do not consider your statement a disloyal one?”
“No, sir. Scientific truth is beyond loyalty and disloyalty.”
“You are sure that your statement represents scientific truth?”
“I am.”
“On what basis?”
“On the basis of the mathematics of psychohistory.”
“Can you prove that this mathematics is valid?”
“Only to another mathematician.”
The advocate smiled endearingly. “Your claim then, is that your truth is of so esoteric a nature that it is beyond the understanding of a plain man. It seems to me that truth should be clearer than that, less mysterious, more open to the mind.”
“It presents no difficulties to some minds. The physics of energy transfer, which we know as thermodynamics, has been clear and true through all the history of man since the mythical ages, yet there may be people present who would find it impossible to design a power engine. People of high intelligence. too. I doubt if the learned Commissioners-”
The Commissioner to the immediate right of Chen called the advocate to the bench. His whisper pierced the chamber, though Hari could not hear what was said.
When the advocate returned, he seemed a little chastened.
“We are not here to listen to speeches, Dr. Seldon. Let us assume that you have made your point. Let’s focus this inquiry a little more, Professor Seldon.”
“Fine.”
“Let me suggest to you that your predictions of disaster might be intended to destroy public confidence in the Imperial Government for purposes of your own.”
“That is not so.”
“Let me suggest that you intend to claim that a period of time preceding the so-called ruin of Trantor will be filled with unrest of various types.”
“That is correct.”
“And that by the mere prediction thereof, you hope to bring it about, and to have then an army of a hundred thousand available.”
Hari stifled his impulse to smile, even to chuckle. “In the first place, that is not so. And if it were, investigation will show you that barely ten thousand are men of military age, and none of these has training in arms.”
Boon stood and was recognized by the presiding Commissioner, sitting on the left of Chen.
“Honored Commissioners, there are no accusations of armed sedition or attempting to overthrow by main force.”
The presiding Commissioner nodded with bored disinterest, and said, “Not in question.”
The advocate tried another tack. “Are you acting as an agent for another?”
“It is well-known I am not in the pay of any man, Mr. Advocate.” Hari smiled pleasantly. “I am not a rich man.”
A little melodramatically, the advocate tried to drive his point home. Who is he trying to impress-the gallery? Hari stared out at the baronial gentry audience of fifty or so, all with looks of varying levels of boredom. They’re just here to witness. The Commissioners? They’ve already made up their minds.
“You are entirely disinterested? You are serving science?”
“I am.”
“Then let us see how. Can the future be changed, Dr. Seldon?”
“Obviously.” He waved his hand over the audience. “This courtroom may explode in the next few hours, or it may not.” Boon made a mildly disapproving face. “If it did, the future would undoubtedly be changed in some minor respects.” Hari smiled at the advocate, then at Linge Chen, who was not watching him. Boon’s frown deepened.
“You quibble, Dr. Seldon. Can the overall history of the human race be changed?”
“Yes.”
“Easily?”
“No. With great difficulty.”
“Why?”
“The psychohistoric trend of a planet-full of people contains a huge inertia. To be changed it must be met with something possessing a similar inertia. Either as many people must be concerned, or, if the number of people be relatively small, enormous time for change must be allowed.” Hari put on his professorial tone, treating the advocate-and anyone else who was paying attention-as students. “Do you understand?”
The advocate looked up briefly. “I think I do. Trantor need not be ruined, if a great many people decide to act so that it will not.”
Hari nodded professorial approval. “That is right.”
“As many as a hundred thousand people?”
“No, sir,” Hari replied mildly. “That is far too few.”
“You are sure?”
“Consider that Trantor has a population of over forty billions. Consider further that the trend leading to ruin does not belong to Trantor alone but to the Empire as a whole, and the Empire contains nearly a quintillion human beings.”
The advocate appeared thoughtful. “I see. Then perhaps a hundred thousand people can change the trend, if they and their descendants labor for five hundred years.” He gave a curious undershot look at Hari.
“I’m afraid not. Five hundred years is too short a time.”
The advocate seemed to find this a revelation. “Ah! In that case, Dr. Seldon, we are left with this deduction to be made from your statements. You have gathered one hundred thousand people within the confines of your Project. These are insufficient to change the history of Trantor within five hundred years. In other words, they cannot prevent the destruction of Trantor no matter what they do.”
Hari found the line of questioning unproductive, and said in an undertone, “You are unfortunately correct. I wish-”
But the advocate bore in. “And on the other hand, your hundred thousand are intended for no illegal purpose.”
“Exactly.”
The advocate stepped back, fastened a benevolent gaze on Hari, then said, slowly and with smug satisfaction, “In that case, Dr. Seldon-now attend, sir, most carefully, for we want a considered answer.” He suddenly thrust out a well-manicured finger and shrilled: “What is the purpose of your hundred thousand?”
The advocate’s voice had grown strident. He had sprung his trap, backed Seldon into a comer, hounded him so astutely there would be no possibility of giving a convincing response.
The baronial audience of peers seemed to find this drama very convincing. They hummed like bees, and the Commissioners moved as one to witness Hari’s discomfiture-all but Linge Chen. Chen licked his lips once, delicately, and narrowed his eyes. Hari saw the Chief Commissioner glance at him briefly, but otherwise, Chen gave no reaction. He appeared stiffly bored.
Hari found some sympathy for Chen. At least he had the intelligence to realize the advocate was sniffing over infertile ground. He waited for the audience to quiet. Hari knew how to deliver lines in a drama, as well.
“To minimize the effects of that destruction.” He spoke clearly and softly, and, as he had intended, the Commissioners and their class peers fell silent to catch his words.
“I did not hear you, Professor Seldon.” The advocate leaned in, cupped hand to ear. Hari repeated his words in a very loud voice, emphasizing “destruction.” Boon winced one more time.
The advocate pulled back and looked at the Commissioners and the peers, as if hoping they would confirm his own suspicions. “And exactly what do you mean by that?”
“The explanation is simple.”