“Why untouchable?”

“The Empire cannot seriously exert force against Trantor. To do so would be bound to shake some facet or other of the technology on which the whole planet depends. The technology is so interrelated that to snap one of the interconnections is to cripple the whole. Believe me, Seldon, we on Trantor observe what happens when there is an earthquake that manages to escape being damped out, a volcanic eruption that is not vented in time, a storm that is not defused, or just some human error that escapes notice. The planet totters and every effort must be made to restore the balance at once.”

“I have never heard of such a thing.”

A small smile flickered its way across Hummin’s face. “Of course not. Do you want the Empire to advertise the weakness at its core? However, as a journalist, I know what happens even when the Outworlds don’t, even when much of Trantor itself doesn’t, even when the Imperial pressure is interested in concealing events. Believe me! The Emperor knows-and Eto Demerzel knows-even if you don’t, that to disturb Trantor may destroy the Empire.”

“Then are you suggesting I stay on Trantor for that reason?”

“Yes. I can take you to a place on Trantor where you will be absolutely safe from Demerzel. You won’t have to change your name and you will be able to operate entirely in the open and he won’t be able to touch you. That’s why he wanted to force you off Trantor at once and if it hadn’t been for the quirk of fate that brought us together and for your surprising ability to defend yourself, he would have succeeded in doing so.”

“But how long will I have to remain on Trantor?”

“For as long as your safety requires it, Seldon. For the rest of your life, perhaps.”

Hari Seldon looked at the holograph of himself cast by Hummin’s projector. It was more dramatic and useful than a mirror would have been. In fact, it seemed as though there were two of him in the room.

Seldon studied the sleeve of his new tunic. His Heliconian attitudes made him wish the colors were less vibrant, but he was thankful that, as it was, Hummin had chosen softer colors than were customary here on this world. (Seldon thought of the clothing worn by their two assailants and shuddered inwardly.) He said, “And I suppose I must wear this hat.”

“In the Imperial Sector, yes. To go bareheaded here is a sign of low breeding. Elsewhere, the rules are different.”

Seldon sighed. The round hat was made of soft material and molded itself to his head when he put it on. The brim was evenly wide all around, but it was narrower than on the hats his attackers had worn. Seldon consoled himself by noticing that when he wore the hat the brim curved rather gracefully. “It doesn’t have a strap under the chin.”

“Of course not. That’s advanced fashion for young lanks.”

“For young what?”

“A lank is someone who wears things for their shock value. I’m sure you have such people on Helicon.”

Seldon snorted. “There are those who wear their hair shoulder-length on one side and shave the other.” He laughed at the memory. Hummin’s mouth twisted slightly. “I imagine it looks uncommonly ugly.”

“Worse. There are lefties and righties, apparently, and each finds the other version highly offensive. The two groups often engage in street brawls.”

“Then I think you can stand the hat, especially without the strap.”

Seldon said, “I’ll get used to it.”

“It will attract some attention. It’s subdued for one thing and makes you look as if you’re in mourning. And it doesn’t quite fit. Then, too, you wear it with obvious discomfort. However, we won’t be in the Imperial Sector long.-Seen enough?” And the holograph flickered out.

Seldon said, “How much did this cost you?”

“What’s the difference?”

“It bothers me to be in your debt.”

“Don’t worry about it. This is my choice. But we’ve been here long enough. I will have been described, I’m quite certain. They’ll track me down and they’ll come here.”

“In that case,” said Seldon, “the credits you’re spending are a minor matter. You’re putting yourself into personal danger on my account. Personal danger!”

“I know that. But it’s my free choice and I can take care of myself.”

“But why-”

“We’ll discuss the philosophy of it later.-I’ve atomized your clothes, by the way, and I don’t think I was seen. There was an energy surge, of course, and that would be recorded. Someone might guess what happened from that-it’s hard to obscure any action when probing eyes and mind are sharp enough. However, let us hope we’ll be safely away before they put it all together.”

They traveled along walkways where the light was soft and yellow. Hummin’s eyes moved this way and that, watchful, and he kept their pace at crowd speed, neither passing nor being passed.

He kept up a mild but steady conversation on indifferent topics. Seldon, edgy and unable to do the same, said, “There seems to be a great deal of walking here. There are endless lines in both directions and along the crossovers.”

“Why not?” said Hummin. “Walking is still the best form of short-distance transportation. It’s the most convenient, the cheapest, and the most healthful. Countless years of technological advance have not changed that.-Are you acrophobic, Seldon?”

Seldon looked over the railing on his right into a deep declivity that separated the two walking lanes-each in an opposite direction between the regularly spaced crossovers. He shuddered slightly. “If you mean fear of heights, not ordinarily. Still, looking down isn’t pleasant. How far does it go down?”

“Forty or fifty levels at this point, I think. This sort of thing is common in the Imperial Sector and a few other highly developed regions. In most places, one walks at what might be considered ground level.”

“I should imagine this would encourage suicide attempts.”

“Not often. There are far easier methods. Besides, suicide is not a matter of social obloquy on Trantor. One can end one’s life by various recognized methods in centers that exist for the purpose-if one is willing to go through some psychotherapy at first. There are, occasional accidents, for that matter, but that’s not why I was asking about acrophobia. We’re heading for a taxi rental where they know me as a journalist. I’ve done favors for them occasionally and sometimes they do favors for me in return. They’ll forget to record me and won’t notice that I have a companion. Of course, I’ll have to pay a premium and, again of course, if Demerzel’s people lean on them hard enough, they’ll have to tell the truth and put it down to slovenly accounting, but that may take considerable time.”

“Where does the acrophobia come in?”

“Well, we can get there a lot faster if we use a gravitic lift. Not many people use it and I must tell you that I’m not overjoyed at the idea myself, but if you think you can handle it, we had better.”

“What’s a gravitic lift?”

“It’s experimental. The time may come when it will be widespread over Trantor, provided it becomes psychologically acceptable-or can be made so to enough people. Then, maybe, it will spread to other worlds too. It’s an elevator shaft without an elevator cab, so to speak. We just step into empty space and drop slowly-or rise slowly-under the influence of antigravity. It’s about the only application of antigravity that’s been established so far, largely because it’s the simplest possible application.”

“What happens if the power blinks out while we’re in transit?”

“Exactly what you would think. We fall and-unless we’re quite near the bottom to begin with-we die. I haven’t heard of it happening yet and, believe me, if it had happened I would know. We might not be able to give out the news for security reasons-that’s the excuse they always advance for hiding bad news-but I would know. It’s just up ahead. If you can’t manage it, we won’t do it, but the corridors are slow and tedious and many find them nauseating after a while.” Hummin turned down a crossover and into a large recess where a line of men and women were waiting, one or two with children.