5
"Dad," said Raych with some concern, "you look tired."
"I dare say," said Hari Seldon, "I feel tired. But how are you?"
Raych was forty-four now and his hair was beginning to show a bit of gray, but his mustache remained thick and dark and very Dahlite in appearance. Seldon wondered if he touched it up with dye, but it would have been the wrong thing to ask.
Seldon said, "Are you through with your lecturing for a while?"
"For a while. Not for long. And I'm glad to be home and see the baby and Manella and Wanda-and you, Dad."
"Thank you. But I have news for you, Raych. No more lecturing. I'm going to need you here."
Raych frowned. "What for?" On two different occasions he had been sent to carry out delicate missions, but those were back during the days of the Joranumite menace. As far as he knew, things were quiet now, especially with the overthrow of the junta and the reestablishment of a pale Emperor.
"It's Wanda," said Seldon.
"Wanda? What's wrong with Wanda?"
"Nothing's wrong with her, but we're going to have to work out a complete genome for her-and for you and Manella as well-and eventually for the new baby."
"For Bellis, too? What's going on?"
Seldon hesitated. "Raych, you know that your mother and I always thought there was something lovable about you, something that inspired affection and trust."
"I know you thought so. You said so often enough when you were trying to get me to do something difficult. But I'll be honest with you. I never felt it."
"No, you won over me and... and Dors." (He had such trouble saying the name, even though four years had passed since her destruction.) "You won over Rashelle of Wye. You won over Jo-Jo Joranum. You won over Manella. How do you account for all that?"
"Intelligence and charm," said Raych, grinning.
"Have you thought you might have been in touch with their-our-minds?"
"No, I've never thought that. And now that you mention it, I think it's ridiculous. With all due respect, Dad, of course."
"What if I told you that Wanda seems to have read Yugo's mind during a moment of crisis?"
"Coincidence or imagination, I should say."
"Raych, I knew someone once who could handle people's minds as easily as you and I handle conversation."
"Who was that?"
"I can't speak of him. Take my word for it, though."
"Well-" said Raych dubiously.
"I've been at the Galactic Library, checking on such matters. There is a curious story, about twenty thousand years old and therefore back to the misty origins of hyperspatial travel. It's about a young woman, not much more than Wanda's age, who could communicate with an entire planet that circled a sun called Nemesis."
"Surely a fairytale."
"Surely. And incomplete, at that. But the similarity with Wanda is astonishing."
Raych said, "Dad, what are you planning?"
"I'm not sure, Raych. I need to know the genome and I have to find others like Wanda. I have a notion that youngsters are born-not often but occasionally-with such mental abilities, but that, in general, it merely gets them in trouble and they learn to mask it. And as they grow tip, their ability, their talent, is buried deep within their minds- sort of an unconscious act of self-preservation. Surely in the Empire or even just among Trantor's forty billion, there must be more of that sort, like Wanda, and if I know the genome I want, I can test those I think may be so."
"And what would you do with them if you found them, Dad?"
"I have the notion that they are what I need for the further development of psychohistory."
Raych said, "And Wanda is the first of the type you know about and you intend to make a psychohistorian out of her?"
"Perhaps."
"Like Yugo. Dad, no!"
"Why no?"
"Because I want her to grow up like a normal girl and become a normal woman. I will not have you sitting her before the Prime Radiant and make her into a living monument to psychohistorical mathematics."
Seldon said, "It may not come to that, Raych, but we must have her genome. You know that for thousands of years there have been suggestions that every human being have his genome on file. It's only the expense that's kept it from becoming standard practice; no one doubts the usefulness of it. Surely you see the advantages. If nothing else, we will know Wanda's tendencies toward a variety of physiological disorders. If we had ever had Yugo's genome, I am certain he would not now be dying. Surely we can go that far."
"Well, maybe, Dad, but no further. I'm willing to bet that Manella is going to be a lot firmer on this than I am."
Seldon said, "Very well. But remember, no more lecture tours. I need you at home."
"We'll see," Raych said and left.
Seldon sat there in a quandary. Eto Demerzel, the one person he knew who could handle minds, would have known what to do. Dors, with her nonhuman knowledge, might have known what to do.
For himself, he had a dim vision of a new psychohistory-but nothing more than that.
6
It was not an easy task to obtain a complete genome of Wanda. To begin with, the number of biophysicists equipped to handle the genome was small and those that existed were always busy.
Nor was it possible for Seldon to discuss his needs openly, in order to interest the biophysicists. It was absolutely essential, Seldon felt, that the true reason for his interest in Wanda's mental powers be kept secret from all the Galaxy.
And if another difficulty was needed, it was the fact that the process was infernally expensive.
Seldon shook his head and said to Mian Endelecki, the biophysicist he was now consulting, "Why so expensive, Dr. Endelecki? I am not an expert in the field, but it is my distinct understanding that the process is completely computerized and that, once you have a scraping of skin cells, the genome can be completely built and analyzed in a matter of days."
"That's true. But having a deoxyribonucleic acid molecule stretching out for billions of nucleotides, with every purine and pyrimidine in its place, is the least of it; the very least of it, Professor Seldon. There is then the matter of studying each one and comparing it to some standard.
"Now, consider, in the first place, that although we have records of complete genomes, they represent a vanishingly small fraction of the number of genomes that exist, so that we don't really know how standard they are."
Seldon asked, "Why so few?"
"A number of reasons. The expense, for one thing. Few people are willing to spend the credits on it unless they have strong reason to think there is something wrong with their genome. And if they have no strong reason, they are reluctant to undergo analysis for fear they will find something wrong. Now, then, are you sure you want your granddaughter genomed?"
"Yes, I do. It is terribly important."
"Why? Does she show signs of a metabolic anomaly?"
"No, she doesn't. Rather the reverse-if I knew the antonym of 'anomaly.' I consider her a most unusual person and I want to know just what it is that makes her unusual."
"Unusual in what way?"
"Mentally, but it's impossible for me to go into details, since I don't entirely understand it. Maybe I will, once she is genomed."
"How old is she?"
"Twelve. She'll soon be thirteen."
"In that case, I'll need permission from her parents."
Seldon cleared his throat. "That may be difficult to get. I'm her grandfather. Wouldn't my permission be enough?"
"For me, certainly. But, you know, we're talking about the law. I don't wish to lose my license to practice."
It was necessary for Seldon to approach Raych again. This, too, was difficult, as he protested once more that he and his wife, Manella, wanted Wanda to live a normal life of a normal girl. What if her genome did turn out to be abnormal? Would she be whisked away to be prodded and probed like a laboratory specimen? Would Hari, in his fanatical devotion to his Psychohistory Project, press Wanda into a life of all work and no play, shutting her off from other young people her age? But Seldon was insistent.
"Trust me, Raych. I would never do anything to harm Wanda. But this must be done. I need to know Wanda's genome. If it is as I suspect it is, we may be on the verge of altering the course of psychohistory, of the future of the Galaxy itself!"
And so Raych was persuaded and somehow he obtained Manella's consent, as well. And together, the three adults took Wanda to Dr. Endelecki's office.
Mian Endelecki greeted them at the door. Her hair was a shining white, but her face showed no sign of age.
She looked at the girl, who walked in with a look of curiosity on her face but with no signs of apprehension or fear. She then turned her gaze to the three adults who had accompanied Wanda.
Dr. Endelecki said with a smile, "Mother, father, and grandfather-am I right?"