Second Foundation(66)

"Nonsense," said Anthor, acidly. "What makes you so triumphant, anyway? You talk as though we have really won a war, when actually we have won nothing but a petty brawl which has served only to distract our minds from the real enemy."

There was an uncomfortable silence, in which only Homir Munn's slight smile struck a discordant note.

And Anthor struck the arm of his chair with a balled and furyfilled fist, "Yes, I refer to the Second Foundation. There is no mention of it and, if I judge correctly, every effort to have no thought of it. Is it because this fallacious atmosphere of victory that palls over this world of idiots is so attractive that you feel you must participate? Turn somersaults then, handspring your way into a wall, pound one another's back and throw confetti out the window. Do whatever you please, only get it out of your system - and when you are quite done and you are yourselves again, return and let us discuss that problem which exists now precisely as it did ten months ago when you sat here with eyes cocked over your shoulders for fear of you knew not what. Do you really think that the Mind-masters of the Second Foundation are less to be feared because you have beat down a foolish wielder of spaceships."

He paused, red-faced and panting.

Munn said quietly, "Will you hear me speak now, Anthor? Or do you prefer to continue your role as ranting conspirator?"

"Have your say, Homir," said Darell, "but let's all of us refrain from over-picturesqueness of language. It's a very good thing in its place, but at present, it bores me."

Homir Munn leaned back in his armchair and carefully refilled his glass from the decanter at his elbow.

"I was sent to Kalgan," he said, "to find out what I could from the records contained in the Mule's Palace. I spent several months doing so. I seek no credit for that accomplishment. As I have indicated, it was Arcadia whose ingenuous intermeddling obtained the entry for me. Nevertheless, the fact remains that to my original knowledge of the Mule's life and times, which, I submit, was not small, I have added the fruits of much labor among primary evidence which has been available to no one else.

"I am, therefore, in a unique position to estimate the true danger of the Second Foundation; much more so than is our excitable friend here."

"And," grated Anthor, "what is your estimate of that danger?"

"Why, zero."

A short pause, and Elvett Semic asked with an air of surprised disbelief, "You mean zero danger?"

"Certainly. Friends, there is no Second Foundation!"

Anthor's eyelids closed slowly and he sat there, face pale and expressionless.

Munn continued, aftention-centering and loving it, "And what is more, there was never one."

"On what," asked Darell, "do you base this surprising conclusion?"

"I deny," said Munn, "that it is surprising. You all know the story of the Mule's search for the Second Foundation. But what do you know of the intensity of that search - of the single-mindedness of it. He had tremendous resources at his disposal and he spared none of it. He was single-minded - and yet he failed. No Second Foundation was found."

"One could scarcely expect it to be found," pointed out Turbor, restlessly. "It had means of protecting itself against inquiring minds."

"Even when the mind that is inquiring is the Mule's mutant mentality? I think not. But come, you do not expect me to give you the gist of fifty volumes of reports in five minutes. All of it, by the terms of the peace treaty will be part of the Seldon Historical Museum eventually, and you will all be free to be as leisurely in your analysis as I have been. You will find his conclusion plainly stated, however, and that I have already expressed. There is not, and has never been, any Second Foundation."

Semic interposed, "Well, what stopped the Mule, then?"

"Great Galaxy, what do you suppose stopped him? Death did; as it will stop all of us. The greatest superstition of the age is that the Mule was somehow stopped in an all-conquering career by some mysterious entities superior even to himself. It is the result of looking at everything in wrong focus.

"Certainly no one in the Galaxy can help knowing that the Mule was a freak, physical as well as mental. He died in his thirties because his ill-adjusted body could no longer struggle its creaking machinery along. For several years before his death he was an invalid. His best health was never more than an ordinary man's feebleness. All right, then. He conquered the Galaxy and, in the ordinary course of nature, proceeded to die. It's a wonder he proceeded as long and as well as he did. Friends, it's down in the very clearest print. You have only to have patience. You have only to try to look at all facts in new focus."

Darell said, thoughtfully, "Good, let us try that Munn. It would be an interesting attempt and, if nothing else, would help oil our thoughts. These tampered men - the records of which Anthor brought to us nearly a year ago, what of them? Help us to see them in focus."

"Easily. How old a science is encephalographic analysis? Or, put it another way, how well-developed is the study of neuronic pathways."

"We are at the beginning in this respect. Granted," said Darell.

"Right. How certain can we be then as to the interpretation of what I've heard Anthor and yourself call the Tamper Plateau. You have your theories, but how certain can you be. Certain enough to consider it a firm basis for the existence of a mighty force for which all other evidence is negative? It's always easy to explain the unknown by postulating a superhuman and arbitrary will.