Boon scowled deeply and flung up a hand. “Professor Seldon, your reputation as a prophet is much too widespread for my professional comfort. But how in the name of all that is Cosmic can you know this about the Chief Commissioner?”
Hari’s eyes seemed for a moment almost to start out of his head, and Boon leaned forward in his chair, clearly worried for the old man’s health.
Hari took a deep breath and relaxed. “It is a Cusp Time,” he said. “I could explain it to you, but it would bore you as much as this legal mumbo-jumbo bores me. I put up with you and credit you with knowing your profession, counselor. Please put up with me under the same terms.”
Boon pressed his lips together and squinted dubiously at his client. “My partner’s son, Lors Avakim, is a smart young fellow. He’s worked for some years in Imperial constitutional law, with a sideline in cases adjudicated by the Commission of Public Safety.”
“Avakim...” Hari had hoped for this name to be mentioned. It simplified things considerably. He knew that Boon was a good counselor, but suspected Boon was not as independent as might be wished. Lors Avakim was a prospective member of the Encyclopedia Project, legal division. He had applied last year. He was idealistic, fresh, not yet corrupted. Hari doubted that Boon knew of this connection to the Project. “Can he dance well enough to keep my mathist out of real trouble with these buffoons?”
“I think so,” Boon said.
“Good. Please retain him on the Project’s legal account for scholar and mathist Gaal Dornick, newly arrived on Trantor. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our meeting short today, counselor. I have to get ready to meet with Dornick.”
“Where is he staying?”
“At the Luxor Hotel.”
“And when will they arrest him?” Boon asked with a wry smile.
“Tomorrow,” Hari said, and coughed into his fist. “Sorry. It must be the dust from all these dead hands of law.” He gestured at the bookfilms.
“Of course,” Boon said tolerantly.
“Thank you,” Hari said, and gestured toward the office door. Boon gathered up his materials and opened the door, then turned to look back at Hari Seldon.
“The trial is in three weeks, professor. That’s not a lot of time.”
“During a Sel--” He interrupted himself. He had almost said “Seldon Crisis.” “During a Cusp lime, counselor, an amazing number of things can happen in just three weeks.”
“May I speak freely, professor?”
“Certainly,” Hari said, but his tone implied the words had better be few.
“You seem to hold my profession in contempt, yet you claim to be a student of cultural flows and ebbs. Law is the framework, the stable but growing anatomy of any culture.”
“I am a flawed man, counselor. I have many lapses. It is my fervent wish that where I err, other people on my staff will see what I cannot, and correct for my failures. Good day.”
28.
Linge Chen received Sedjar Boon alone in his personal residence within the Commission Pavilion and gave him five minutes to describe the meeting with Hari Seldon.
“I admire the man, sire,” Boon said, “but he does not seem to much care about what’s going to happen. He seemed more concerned about providing counsel for a student or assistant who arrived on Trantor only a short while ago.”
“And who is that?”
“Gaal Dornick, sire.”
“I do not know him. He is new to this Psychohistory Project, is he not?”
“I believe so, sire.”
“There are fifty working within the University and the library on Seldon’s Project, and that makes Dornick the fifty-first?”
“Yes.”
“And below these fifty, soon to be fifty-one, there are a hundred thousand, scattered all over Trantor, with a few thousand stationed on the food allies, and a few hundred working the receiver stations around the system. None on the defense stations. All are loyal, all conduct themselves with quiet dedication. Seldon makes himself the lightning rod to divert attention from all of this other activity. Quite an amazing accomplishment for a man as ignorant of law and as contemptuous of the minutiae of management as Seldon seems to be.”
Boon easily caught the implied criticism. “I do not underestimate him, Commissioner. But you have ordered me to provide him with the very finest legal advice, and he does not seem at all interested.”
“Perhaps he knows you report to me.”
“I doubt that, Commissioner.”
“It’s not likely, but he’s a very intelligent man. Have you studied Seldon’s psychohistory papers, counselor?”
“Only insofar as they relate to the charges under which you are likely to try him.” Boon looked up with hopeful respect. “It would make my task so much easier if I knew what those charges might be, Commissioner.”
Chen returned his gaze with amusement. “No,” Chen said. “Most of my Greys, and certainly most of the legals, are of the opinion that Seldon is a harmless and amusing crank, another rogue meritocrat aspiring to be an eccentric. He’s regarded with some affection on Trantor. Knowledge that he is about to stand trial is already too widespread, counselor. It might even be to Seldon’s advantage to publicize the trial, applying no little pressure on us to dismiss the charges or call the trial off completely. He could easily publicize the event as a respected academic, a creative meritocrat of the grand old style being bullied by the effete and cruel gentry.”
“Is that a suggestion, Commissioner? It could make a fine defense.”
“Not at all,” Chen said sourly. He leaned forward. “Do not expect me to do your work for you, counselor. Has he discussed this strategy with you?”