Part 36 (1/2)
”I love you, Wanda.”
”Well, you're the only one then, Uncle Yugo.” And even though she could no longer crawl onto his lap as she had when she was younger, she cradled her head on his shoulder and wept.
Amaryl, totally unaware of what he should do, could only hug the girl and say, ”Don't cry. Don't cry.” And out of sheer sympathy and because he had so little in his own life to weep about, he found that tears were trickling down his own cheeks as well.
And then he said with sudden energy, ”Wanda, would you like to see something pretty?”
”What?” sniffled Wanda.
Amaryl knew only one thing in life and the Universe that was pretty. He said, ”Did you ever see the Prime Radiant?”
”No. What is it?”
”It's what your grandfather and I use to do our work. See? It's right here.”
He pointed to the black cube on his desk and Wanda looked at it woefully. ”That's not pretty,” she said.
”Not now,” agreed Amaryl. ”But watch when I turn it on.”
He did so. The room darkened and filled with dots of light and flashes of different colors. ”See? Now we can magnify it so all the dots become mathematical symbols.”
And so they did. There seemed a rush of material toward them and there, in the air, were signs of all sorts, letters, numbers, arrows, and shapes that Wanda had never seen before.
”Isn't it pretty?” asked Amaryl.
”Yes, it is,” said Wanda, staring carefully at the equations that (she didn't know) represented possible futures. ”I don't like that part, though. I think it's wrong.” She pointed at a colorful equation to her left.
”Wrong? Why do you say it's wrong” said Amaryl, frowning.
”Because it's not . . . pretty. I'd do it a different way.”
Amaryl cleared his throat. ”Well, I'll try to fix it up.” And he moved closer to the equation in question, staring at it in his owlish fas.h.i.+on.
Wanda said, ”Thank you very much, Uncle Yugo, for showing me your pretty lights. Maybe someday I'll understand what they mean.”
”That's all right,” said Amaryl. ”I hope you feel better.”
”A little, thanks,” and, after flas.h.i.+ng the briefest of smiles, she left the room.
Amaryl stood there, feeling a trifle hurt. He didn't like having the Prime Radiant's product criticized-not even by a twelve-year-old girl who knew no better.
And as he stood there, he had no idea whatsoever that the psychohistorical revolution had begun.
4
That afternoon Amaryl went to Hari Seldon's office at Streeling University. That in itself was unusual, for Amaryl virtually never left his own office, even to speak with a colleague just down the hall.
”Hari,” said Amaryl, frowning and looking puzzled. ”Something very odd has happened. Very peculiar.”
Seldon looked at Amaryl with deepest sorrow. He was only fifty-three, but he looked much older, bent, worn down to almost transparency. When forced, he had undergone doctors' examinations and the doctors had all recommended that he leave his work for a period of time (some said permanently) and rest. Only this, the doctors said, might improve his health. Otherwise- Seldon shook his head. ”Take him away from his work and he'll die all the sooner-and unhappier. We have no choice.”
And then Seldon realized that, lost in such thoughts, he was not hearing Amaryl speak.
He said, ”I'm sorry, Yugo. I'm a little distracted. Begin again.”
Amaryl said, ”I'm telling you that something very odd has happened. Very peculiar.”
”What is it, Yugo?”
”It was Wanda. She came in to see me-very sad, very upset.”
”Why?”
”Apparently it's the new baby.”
”Oh yes,” Hari said with more than a trace of guilt in his voice.
”So she said and cried on my shoulder-I actually cried a bit, too, Hari. And then I thought I'd cheer her up by showing her the Prime Radiant.” Here Amaryl hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully.
”Go on, Yugo. What happened?”
”Well, she stared at all the lights and I magnified a portion, actually Section 428254. You're acquainted with that?”
Seldon smiled. ”No, Yugo, I haven't memorized the equations quite as well as you have.”
”Well, you should,” said Amaryl severely. ”How can you do a good job if- But never mind that. What I'm trying to say is that Wanda pointed to a part of it and said it was no good. It wasn't pretty. ”
”Why not? We all have our personal likes and dislikes.”
”Yes, of course, but I brooded about it and I spent some time going over it and, Hari, there was something wrong with it. The programming was inexact and that area, the precise area to which Wanda pointed, was no good. And, really, it wasn't pretty.”
Seldon sat up rather stiffly, frowning. ”Let me get this straight, Yugo. She pointed to something at random, said it was no good, and she was right?”
”Yes. She pointed, but it wasn't at random; she was very deliberate.”
”But that's impossible.”
”But it happened. I was there.”
”I'm not saying it didn't happen. I'm saying it was just a wild coincidence.”
”Is it? Do you think, with all your knowledge of psychohistory, you could take one glance at a new set of equations and tell me that one portion is no good?”
Seldon said, ”Well then, Yugo, how did you come to expand that particular portion of the equations? What made you choose that piece for magnification?”