"Asimov, Isaac - Prelude to foundation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asimov Isaac)

"Why would you need me to do that? The government ofcials could make those predictions themselves and spare the middleman."

"The government officials could not do so as effectively. Government officials do make statements of the sort now and then. They are not necessarily believed."

"Why would I be?"

"You are a mathematician. You would have calculated the future, not . . . not intuited it-if that is a word."

"But I would not have done so."

"Who would know that?" Cleon watched him out of narrowed eyes.

There was a pause. Seldon felt trapped. If given a direct order by the Emperor, would it be safe to refuse? If he refused, he might be imprisoned or executed. Not without trial, of course, but it is only with great difficulty that a trial can be made to go against the wishes of a heavy-handed officialdom, particularly one under the command of the Emperor of the vast Galactic Empire.

He said finally, "It wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"If I were asked to predict vague generalities that could not possibly come to pass until long after this generation and, perhaps, the next were dead, we might get away with it, but, on the other hand, the public would pay little attention. They would not care about a glowing eventuality a century or two in the future.

"To attain results," Seldon went on, "I would have to predict matters of sharper consequence, more immediate eventualities. Only to these would the public respond. Sooner or later, thoughand probably soonerone of the eventualities would not come to pass and my usefulness would be ended at once. With that, your popularity might be gone, too, and, worst of all, there would be no further support for the development of psychohistory so that there would be no chance for any good to come of it if future improvements in mathematical insights help to make it move closer to the realm of practicality."

Cleon threw himself into a chair and frowned at Seldon. "Is that all you mathematicians can do? Insist on impossibilities?"

Seldon said with desperate softness, "It is you, Sire, who insist on impossibilities."

"Let me test you, man. Suppose I asked you to use your mathematics to tell me whether I would some day be assassinated? What would you say?"

"My mathematical system would not give an answer to so specific a question, even if psychohistory worked at its best. All the quantum mechanics in the world cannot make it possible to predict the behavior of one lone electron, only the average behavior of many."

"You know your mathematics better than I do. Make an educated guess based on it. Will I someday be assassinated?"

Seldon said softly, "You lay a trap for me, Sire. Either tell me what answer you wish and I will give it to you or else give me free right to make what answer I wish without punishment."

"Speak as you will."

"Your word of honor?"

"Do you want it an writing?" Cleon was sarcastic.

"Your spoken word of honor will be sufficient," said Seldon, his heart sinking, for he was not certain it would be.

"You have my word of honor."

"Then I can tell you that in the past four centuries nearly half the Emperors have been assassinated, from which I conclude that the chances of your assassination are roughly one in two."

"Any fool can give that answer," said Cleon with contempt. "It takes no mathematician."

"Yet I have told you several times that my mathematics is useless for practical problems."