"Asimov, Isaac - Brin, David - Foundations Triumph" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asimov Isaac)

Hope seemed to swell in the Grey's voice, as if expecting the blue mantle of meritocracy to be draped across his shoulders at any moment. But Hari was too distracted to offer polite praise. His mind roiled.

I wouldn't waste my time on trivia? Can you be so sure, my young friend? Perhaps I'm only here tonight because of terminal boredom ... or else encroaching senility. I may be missing something obvious. Something that would topple your amateurish offerings like a house of cards in a Trantor-quake.

Only Hari had not found a flaw so far. Though Antic's analytical work seemed pedestrian, it was also meticulously honest. Hari's check of references and public data sets revealed no apparent errors of fact.

Whatever pattern he's discovered-using dirt samples and drifting clouds of nothing in space-it seems to correlate roughly to the zones where chaos worlds have been most frequent. . . a problem I've been trying to solve for half my life.

In fact, this was not essential to the success or failure of the Foundation Plan. Once the empire's fall began accelerating, the appearance of chaos worlds would cease. People all across the galaxy would be much too busy surviving, or engaging in more classic styles of rebellion, to engage in orgies of wild, Utopian individualism.

And yet, psychohistory will always be incomplete without an answer to this hellish attractor state.

Then there was another factor, equally compelling.

Santanni. . . where Raych died. And Sivenna, where the ship carrying Manella and Bellis was last seen before vanishing. Both worlds He near some of Antic's anomalies.

Hari felt a decision welling up from within.

One thing he knew for certain. He hated his life now. Ever since completing the Time Vault recordings, he'd been sitting around as a revered historical figure, just waiting to die. That was not his style. Anyway, he had felt more alive the last two days than any time in the last year.

Abruptly, he decided.

"Very well, Horis Antic. I will go with you."

Across the table, the portly man in the gray uniform visibly paled. His eyes seemed to pop, staring back at Hari, while his Adam's apple bobbed ludicrously.

Finally, Antic swallowed hard.

"How . . ."he began, hoarsely. "How did y-you ..."

Hari smiled.

"How did I know that you were about to suggest a private expedition?"

He spread his hands, feeling a bit like his old self again.

"Well after all, young sir, I am Hari Seldon."



-8-



According to his plea-bargain agreement with the Commission for Public Safety, Hari wasn't supposed to leave Trantor. He also knew that Wanda and the Fifty would never permit him to go charging off to the stars. Even though he was no longer needed for the success of the Plan, no one would take responsibility for risking the life of the father of psychohistory.

Fortunately, Hari knew a loophole that just might let him get away. You can go quite far without officially leaving Trantor, he thought, while making the necessary arrangements.

There was very little to pack for the journey-just a few necessities, which Kers Kantun loaded in a suitcase, plus a few of Hari's most valued research archives, including a copy of the Foundation Plan Prime Radiant. None of it looked too out of the ordinary, slung on the back of his mobile chair.