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8.
For a long while, they sat silently as the taxi whined through the hundreds of miles of worm-like tunnels toward the University. And then Gaal stirred. He said:
"Was what you told the Commissioner true? Would your execution have really hastened the Fall?"
Seldon said, "I never lie about psychohistoric findings. Nor would it have availed me in this case. Chen knew I spoke the truth. He is a very clever politician and politicians by the very nature of their work must have an instinctive feeling for the truths of psychohistory."
"Then need you have accepted exile," Gaal wondered, but Seldon did not answer.
When they burst out upon the University grounds, Gaal's muscles took action of their own; or rather, inaction. He had to be carried, almost, out of the taxi.
All the University was a blaze of light. Gaal had almost forgotten that a sun could exist.
The University structures lacked the hard steel-gray of the rest of Trantor. They were silvery, rather. The metallic luster was almost ivory in color.
Seldon said, "Soldiers, it seems."
"What?" Gaal brought his eyes to the prosaic ground and found a sentinel ahead of them.
They stopped before him, and a soft-spoken captain materialized from a near-by doorway.
He said, "Dr. Seldon?"
"Yes."
"We have been waiting for you. You and your men will be under martial law henceforth. I have been instructed to inform you that six months will be allowed you for preparations to leave for Terminus."
"Six months!" began Gaal, but Seldon's fingers were upon his elbow with gentle pressure.
"These are my instructions," repeated the captain.
He was gone, and Gaal turned to Seldon, "Why, what can be done in six months? This is but slower murder."
"Quietly. Quietly. Let us reach my office."
It was not a large office, but it was quite spy-proof and quite undetectably so. Spy-beams trained upon it received neither a suspicious silence nor an even more suspicious static. They received, rather, a conversation constructed at random out of a vast stock of innocuous phrases in various tones and voices.
"Now," said Seldon, at his ease, "six months will be enough."
"I don't see how."
"Because, my boy, in a plan such as ours, the actions of others are bent to our needs. Have I not said to you already that Chen's temperamental makeup has been subjected to greater scrutiny than that of any other single man in history. The trial was not allowed to begin until the time and circumstances were fight for the ending of our own choosing."
"But could you have arranged–"
"–to be exiled to Terminus? Why not?" He put his fingers on a certain spot on his desk and a small section of the wall behind him slid aside. Only his own fingers could have done so, since only his particular print-pattern could have activated the scanner beneath.
(...)
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