A light broke upon Commason, "A thought! Indeed a thought! Inchney, turn back! And Inchney, if all turns well, we will discuss further this matter of your freedom."
It was with an almost superstitious sense of symbolism that Commason found a Personal Capsule waiting for him in his private study when he returned. It had arrived by a wavelength known to few. Commason smiled a fat smile. The Mule's man was coming and the Foundation had indeed fallen.
Bayta's misty visions, when she had them, of an Imperial palace, did not jibe with the reality, and inside her, there was a vague sense of disappointment. The room was small, almost plain, almost ordinary. The palace did not even match the mayor's residence back at the Foundation - and Dagobert IX -
Bayta had definite ideas of what an emperor ought to look like. He ought not look like somebody's benevolent grandfather. He ought not be thin and white and faded - or serving cups of tea with his own hand in an expressed anxiety for the comfort of his visitors.
But so it was.
Dagobert IX chuckled as he poured tea into her stiffly outheld cup.
"This is a great pleasure for me, my dear. It is a moment away from ceremony and courtiers. I have not had the opportunity for welcoming visitors from my outer provinces for a time now. My son takes care of these details now that I'm older. You haven't met my son? A fine boy. Headstrong, perhaps. But then he's young. Do you care for a flavor capsule? No?"
Toran attempted an interruption, "Your imperial majesty-"
"Yes?"
"Your imperial majesty, it has not been our intention to intrude upon you-"
"Nonsense, there is no intrusion. Tonight there will be the official reception, but until then, we are free. Let's see, where did you say you were from? It seems a long time since we had an official reception. You said you were from the Province of Anacreon?"
"From the Foundation, your imperial majesty!"
"Yes, the Foundation. I remember now. I had it located. It is in the Province of Anacreon. I have never been there. My doctor forbids extensive traveling. I don't recall any recent reports from my viceroy at Anacreon. How are conditions there?" he concluded anxiously.
"Sire," mumbled Toran, "I bring no complaints."
"That is gratifying. I will commend my viceroy."
Toran looked helplessly at Ebling Mis, whose brusque voice rose. "Sire, we have been told that it will require your permission for us to visit the Imperial University Library on Trantor."
"Trantor?" questioned the emperor, mildly, "Trantor?"
Then a look of puzzled pain crossed his thin face. "Trantor?" he whispered. "I remember now. I am making plans now to return there with a flood of ships at my back. You shall come with me. Together we will destroy the rebel, Gilmer. Together we shall restore the empire!"
His bent back had straightened. His voice had strengthened. For a moment his eyes were hard. Then, he blinked and said softly, "But Gilmer is dead. I seem to remember - Yes. Yes! Gilmer is dead! Trantor is dead - For a moment, it seemed - Where was it you said you came from?"
Magnifico whispered to Bayta, "Is this really an emperor? For somehow I thought emperors were greater and wiser than ordinary men."
Bayta motioned him quiet. She said, "If your imperial majesty would but sign an order permitting us to go to Trantor, it would avail greatly the common cause."
"To Trantor?" The emperor was blank and uncomprehending.
"Sire, the Viceroy of Anacreon, in whose name we speak, sends word that Gilmer is yet alive-"
"Alive! Alive!" thundered Dagobert. "Where? It will be war!"
"Your imperial majesty, it must not yet be known. His whereabouts are uncertain. The viceroy sends us to acquaint you of the fact, and it is only on Trantor that we may find his hiding place. Once discovered-"
"Yes, yes - He must be found-" The old emperor doddered to the wall and touched the little photocell with a trembling finger. He muttered, after an ineffectual pause, "My servants do not come. I can not wait for them."
He was scribbling on a blank sheet, and ended with a flourished "D." He said, "Gilmer will yet learn the power of his emperor. Where was it you came from? Anacreon? What are the conditions there? Is the name of the emperor powerful?"
Bayta took the paper from his loose fingers, "Your imperial majesty is beloved by the people. Your love for them is widely known."
"I shall have to visit my good people of Anacreon, but my