Like any intellectual, Hari Seldon had made use of the Galactic Library freely. For the most part, it had been done long-distance through computer, but occasionally he had visited it, more to get away from the pressures of the Psychohistory Project than for any other purpose. And, for the past couple of years, since he had first formulated his plan to find others like Wanda, he had kept a private office there, so he could have ready access to any of the Library’s vast collection of data. He had even rented a small apartment in an adjacent sector under the dome so that he would be able to walk to the Library when his ever-increasing research there prevented him from returning to the Streeling Sector.

Now, however, his plan had taken on new dimensions and he wanted to meet Las Zenow. It was the first time he had ever met him face-to-face.

It was not easy to arrange a personal interview with the Chief Librarian of the Galactic Library. His own perception of the nature and value of his office was high and it was frequently said that when the Emperor wished to consult the Chief Librarian, even he had to visit the Library himself and wait his turn.

Seldon, however, had no trouble. Zenow knew him well, though he had never seen Hari Seldon in person. “An honor, First Minister,” he said in greeting.

Seldon smiled. “I trust you know that I have not held that post in sixteen years.”

“The honor of the title is still yours. Besides, sir, you were also instrumental in ridding us of the brutal rule of the junta. The junta, on a number of occasions, violated the sacred rule of the neutrality of the Library.”

(Ah, thought Seldon, that accounts for the readiness with which he saw me.)

“Merely rumor,” he said aloud.

“And now, tell me,” said Zenow, who could not resist a quick look at the time band on his wrist, “what can I do for you?”

“Chief Librarian,” began Seldon, “I have not come to ask anything easy of you. What I want is more space at the Library. I want permission to bring in a number of my associates. I want permission to undertake a long and elaborate program of the greatest importance.”

Las Zenow’s face drew into an expression of distress. “You ask a great deal. Can you explain the importance of all this?”

“Yes. The Empire is in the process of disintegration.”

There was a long pause. Then Zenow said, “I have heard of your research into psychohistory. I have been told that your new science bears the promise of predicting the future. Is it psychohistorical predictions of which you are speaking?”

“No. I have not yet reached the point in psychohistory where I can speak of the future with certainty. But you don’t need psychohistory to know that the Empire is disintegrating. You can see the evidence yourself.”

Zenow sighed. “My work here consumes me utterly,