Chapter 4

Next to  Sermak himself, Lewis Bort  was the most active  in rallying thosedissident elements  which had  fused into the  now-vociferous Action Party.
Yet he had not  been one of the deputation that had called on Salvor Hardinalmost half a year  previously. That this was so was not due to any lack ofrecognition of his efforts;  quite the contrary. He was absent for the verygood  reason  that  he  was  on  Anacreon's  capital  world  at  the  time.
He visited  it as a private citizen. He saw no  official and he did nothingof importance. He merely  watched the obscure comers of the busy planet andpoked his stubby nose into dusty crannies.
He arrived home toward  the end of a short winter day that had started withclouds and  was finishing  with snow and  within an hour was  seated at theoctagonal table in Sermak's home.
His  first  words  were  not calculated  to  improve  the  atmosphere of  agathering  already  considerably  depressed  by the  deepening  snow-filledtwilight outside..
"I'm afraid,"  he said,  "that our position  is what is  usually termed, inmelodramatic phraseology, a 'Lost Cause.'""You think so?" said Sermak, gloomily.
"It's gone  past thought, Sermak.  There's no room for  any other opinion.""Armaments? began Dokor Walto,  somewhat officiously, but Bort broke in atonce.
"Forget that.  That's an  old story." His  eyes traveled round  the circle.
"I'm referring  to the people. I admit that it  was my idea originally thatwe attempt  to foster  a palace rebellion  of some sort to  install as kingsomeone more favorable to  the Foundation. It was a good idea. It still is.
The only trifling flaw  about it is that it is impossible. The great SalvorHardin saw to that."Sermak   said   sourly,   "If   you'd   give   us   the   details,   Bort?
"Details!  There aren't  any! It isn't  as simple  as that. It's  the wholedamned  situation  on  Anacreon.  It's  this religion  the  Foundation  hasestablished. It works!""Well!""You've got  to see  it work to appreciate it. All you  see here is that wehave  a  large  school  devoted  to  the  training  of  priests,  and  thatoccasionally a special show is put on in some obscure comer of the city forthe benefit  of pilgrims and that's all.  The whole business hardly affectsus as a general thing. But on Anacreon?
Lem Tarki smoothed his prim little Vandyke with one finger, and cleared histhroat. "What kind of religion is it? Hardin's always said that it was justa fluffy  flummery to get them to accept  our science without question. Youremember, Sermak, he told us that day?
"Hardin's explanations,"  reminded Sermak,  "don't often mean  much at facevalue. But what kind of a religion is it, Bort?"Bort considered. "Ethically, it's fine. It scarcely varies from the variousphilosophies of the old  Empire. High moral standards and all that. There'snothing to complain about from that viewpoint. Religion is one of the greatcivilizing  influences of  history and  in that respect,  it's fulfilling?
"We  know  that,"  interrupted Sermak,  impatiently.  "Get  to the  point.""Here  it is."  Bort was a  trifle disconcerted,  but didn't show  it. "Thereligion ?which the  Foundation has fostered and encouraged, mind you ?isbuilt on  on strictly authoritarian lines.  The priesthood has sole controlof the  instruments of science we have  given Anacreon, but they've learnedto  handle these  tools  only empirically.  They believe  in  this religionentirely, and in the  ... uh ... spiritual  value of the power they handle.
For instance, two months ago some fool tampered with the power plant in theThessalekian Temple  ?one of the large ones.  He contaminated the city, ofcourse.  It  was considered  divine  vengeance by  everyone, including  thepriests.""I remember. The papers  had some garbled version of the story at the time.
I don't see what you're driving at.""Then, listen,"  said Bort,  stiffly. "The priesthood forms  a hierarchy atthe apex of which is the king, who is regarded as a sort of minor god. He'san absolute monarch by divine right, and the people believe it, thoroughly,and the priests, too.  You can't overthrow a king like that. Now do you getthe point?""Hold  on," said Walto,  at this point.  "What did  you mean when  you saidHardin's done all this? How does he come in?"Bort glanced at his  questioner bitterly. "The Foundation has fostered thisdelusion assiduously. We've put all our scientific backing behind the hoax.
There isn't  a festival at which the king does  not preside surrounded by aradioactive aura shining forth  all over his body and raising itself like acoronet above his head. Anyone touching him is severely burned. He can movefrom  place to  place  through the  air at  crucial moments,  supposedly byinspiration of  divine spirit. He fills the  temple with a pearly, internallight at  a gesture. There is  no end to these  quite simple tricks that weperform for  his benefit; but even the  priests believe them, while workingthem personally.""Bad!" said Sermak, biting his lip.
"I could cry ? like the fountain in City Hall Park," said Bort, earnestly,"when I think of the chance we muffed. Take the situation thirty years ago,when  Hardin  saved  the  Foundation from  Anacreon  ? At  that time,  theAnacreonian people  had no real conception of the  fact that the Empire wasrunning down.  They had been more  or less running their  own affairs sincethe Zeonian  revolt, but even after  communications broke down and Lepold'spirate of  a grandfather made  himself king, they never  quite realized theEmpire had gone kaput.
"If the  Emperor had had the  nerve to try, he  could have taken over againwith two cruisers and  with the help of the internal revolt that would havecertainly  sprung to  life. And  we we  could have  done the same;  but no,Hardin established monarch worship. Personally, I don't understand it. Why?
Why? Why?""What," demanded  Jaim Orsy,  suddenly, "does Verisof  do? There was  a daywhen  he was  an advanced Actionist.  What's he  doing there? Is  he blind,too?""I don't  know," said Bort, curtly. "He's high priest to  them. As far as Iknow, he  does nothing  but act as  adviser to the  priesthood on technicaldetails. Figurehead, blast him, figurehead!"There was silence all  round and all eyes turned to Sermak. The young partyleader was  biting a fingernail nervously, and  then said loudly, "No good.
It's fishy!"He looked around him,  and added more energetically, "Is Hardin then such afool?""Seems to be," shrugged Bort.
"Never! There's  something wrong. To cut our  own throats so thoroughly andso  hopelessly would  require  colossal stupidity.  More than  Hardin couldpossibly have  even if he  were a fool, which  I deny. On the  one hand, toestablish a  religion that would wipe out  all chance of internal troubles.
On the other hand, to arm Anacreon with all weapons of warfare. I don't seeit.""The matter  is a little  obscure, I admit," said  Bort, "but the facts arethere. What else can we think?"Walto   said,   jerkily,   "Outright   treason.   He's   in   their   pay."But Sermak shook his head impatiently. "I don't see that, either. The wholeaffair  is  as insane  and  meaningless ? Tell  me, Bort,  have you  heardanything about a battle cruiser that the Foundation is supposed to have putinto shape for use in the Anacreon navy?""Battle cruiser?""An old Imperial cruiser?
"No, I  haven't. But that doesn't  mean much. The navy  yards are religioussanctuaries completely inviolate on the part of the lay public. No one everhears anything about the fleet.
"Well, rumors have leaked out. Some of the Party have brought the matter upin Council. Hardin never denied it, you know. His spokesmen denounced rumormongers   and  let   it   go  at   that.  It   might   have  significance.""It's  of a  piece with  the rest,"  said Bort.  "if true,  it's absolutelycrazy. But it wouldn't be worse than the rest.""I  suppose," said  Orsy, "Hardin  hasn't any  secret weapon  waiting. Thatmight?
"Yes," said  Sermak, viciously, "a huge  jack-in-the-box that will jump outat the psychological moment  and scare old Wienis into fits. The Foundationmay  as well  blow itself  out of  existence and  save itself the  agony ofsuspense if it has to depend on any secret weapon.""Well," said Orsy, changing the subject hurriedly, "the question comes downto this: How much time have we left? Eli, Bort?""All fight.  It is  the question. But don't  look at me; I  don't know. TheAnacreonian  press never mentions  the Foundation  at all. Right  now, it'sfull of the approaching  celebrations and nothing else. Lepold is coming ofage next week, you know.""We have months then."  Walto smiled for the first time that evening. "Thatgives us time?
"That gives us time,  my foot," ground out Bort, impatiently. "The king's agod, I tell you. Do you suppose he has to carry on a campaign of propagandato get his people  into fighting spirit? Do you suppose he has to accuse usof aggression  and pull out all stops on  cheap emotionalism? When the timecomes to  strike, Lepold  gives the order  and the people  fight. Just likethat. That抯 the damnedness of the system. You don抰 question a god. He maygive the order tomorrow for all I know; and you can wrap tobacco round thatand smoke it."Everyone  tried to  talk  at once  and Sermak  was  slamming the  table forsilence, when the front  door opened and Levi Norast stamped in. He boundedup the stairs, overcoat on, trailing snow.
"Look at that!" he  cried, tossing a cold, snow-speckled newspaper onto thetable. "The visicasters are full of it, too."The newspaper was unfolded and five heads bent over it.
Sermak said, in a hushed voice, "Great Space, he抯 going to Anacreon! Goingto Anacreon!""It  is treason," squeaked Tarki, in sudden  excitement. "I抣l be damned ifWalto isn抰 right. He抯 sold us out and now he抯 going there to collect hiswage."Sermak  had risen.  "We抳e  no choice  now. I抦  going  to ask  the Counciltomorrow that Hardin be impeached. And if that fails?