Chapter 13
Anacreon's Ultimatum
14 min read · 11 pages
This was the second meeting of the Board that Hardin had attended, if one were to exclude the informal talks the Board members had had with the now-departed Lord Dorwin. Yet the mayor had a perfectly definite idea that at least one other, and possibly two or three, had been held, to which he had somehow never received an invitation.
Nor, it seemed to him, would he have received notification of this one had it not been for the ultimatum.
At least, it amounted to an ultimatum, though a superficial reading of the visigraphed document would lead one to suppose that it was a friendly interchange of greetings between two potentates.
Hardin fingered it gingerly. It started off floridly with a salutation from “His Puissant Majesty, the King of Anacreon, to his friend and brother, Dr. Lewis Pirenne, Chairman of the Board of Trustees, of the Encyclopedia Foundation Number One,” and it ended even more lavishly with a gigantic, multicolored seal of the most involved symbolism.
But it was an ultimatum just the same.
Hardin said: “It turned out that we didn’t have much time after all—only three months. But little as it was, we threw it away unused. This thing here gives us a week. What do we do now?”
Pirenne frowned worriedly. “There must be a loophole. It is absolutely unbelievable that they would push matters to extremities in the face of what Lord Dorwin has assured us regarding the attitude of the Emperor and the Empire.”
Hardin perked up. “I see. You have informed the King of Anacreon of this alleged attitude?”
“I did—after having placed the proposal to the Board for a vote and having received unanimous consent.”
“And when did this vote take place?”
Pirenne climbed onto his dignity. “I do not believe I am answerable to you in any way, Mayor Hardin.”
“All right. I’m not that vitally interested. It’s just my opinion that it was your diplomatic transmission of Lord Dorwin’s valuable contribution to the situation”—he lifted the corner of his mouth in a sour half-smile—“that was the direct cause of this friendly little note. They might have delayed longer otherwise—though I don’t think the additional time would have helped Terminus any, considering the attitude of the Board.”
Said Yate Fulham: “And just how do you arrive at that remarkable conclusion, Mr. Mayor?”
“In a rather simple way. It merely required the use of that much-neglected commodity—common sense. You see, there is a branch of human knowledge known as symbolic logic, which can be used to prune away all sorts of clogging deadwood that clutters up human language.”
“What about it?” said Fulham.
“I applied it. Among other things, I applied it to this document here. I didn’t really need to for myself because I knew what it was all about, but I think I can explain it more easily to five physical scientists by symbols rather than by words.”
Hardin removed a few sheets of paper from the pad under his arm
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