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.Really, Idon t see how any cultured world could be expected to live without kyrt.Oh,it sKing Kyrt all right.I think this is a fuss about nothing. Page 56 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlHe threw himself into an attitude of boredom, one finger placed delicatelyupon his cheek.Balle s old eyes had been closed through all of this last.He said, There canbe no price increases now.We ve got them at absolute ceiling height. Exactly, said Fife. It won t come to serious disruption any-way.Trantorwaits for any sign of disorder on Florina.If they could present the Galaxy with the prospect of a Sark that was unableto guarantee kyrt shipments, it would be the most natural thing in theuniverse for them to move in to maintain what they call order and to keep thekyrt coming.And the danger would be that the free worlds of the Galaxy would probably playalong with them for the sake of the kyrt.Especially if Traritor agreed tobreak the monopoly, increase production and lower prices.Af-terward it wouldbe another story, but meanwhile, they would get their support. It s the only logical way that Trantor could possibly grip Florina.If itwere simple force, the free Galaxy outside theTran-torian sphere of influence would join us in sheer self-protection. Rune said, How does the Spatio-analyst fit in this? Is he nec-essary? If yourtheory is adequate it should explain that. I think it does.These Spatio-analysts are unbalanced for the most part, andthis one has developed some Fife s fingers moved, as though building a vaguestructure some crazy theory.It doesn t matter what.Trantor can t let itcome out, or the Spatio-analytic Bureau would quash it.To seize the man andlearn the details would, however, give them something that would probablypossess a surface validity to non-specialists.They could use it, make soundit real.The Bureau is a Trantorian puppet, and their denials, oncethe story is spread by way of scientific rumormongering, would never beforceful enough to overtake the lie. It sounds too complicated, said Bort. Nuts.They can t let it come out, butthen again they will let it come out. They can t let it come out as a serious scientific announcement, oreven reach the Bureau as such, said Fife patiently. They can let itleak out as a rumor.Don t you see that? What s old Abel doing wasting his time looking for the Spa-tio-analyst then? You expect him to advertise the fact that he s got him? What Abel does andwhat Abel seems to be doing are two different things. Well, said Rune, if you re right, what are we to do? Fife said, We have learned the danger, and that is the impor-tant thing.We ll find the Spatio-analyst if we can.We must keep all known agents ofTrantor under strict scrutiny without really interfering with them.From theiractions we may learn the course of coming events.We must suppress thoroughlyany prop-aganda on Florina to the effect of the planet s destruction.Thefirst faint whisper must meet with instant counteraction of the most violentsort. Most of all, we must remain united.That is the whole pur-pose ofthis meeting, in my eyes; the forming of a common front.We all knowabout continental autonomy and I m sure there is no one more insistent upon itthan I am.That is, under ordinary circumstances.These are not ordinary circumstances.You see that? More or less reluctantly, for continental autonomy was not a thing to beabandoned lightly, they saw that. Then, said Fife, we will wait for the second move. That had been a year ago.They had left and there had fol-lowed the strangestand most complete fiasco ever to have fallen to the lot of the Squire ofFife in a moderately long and a more than moderately audacious career.No second move followed.There were no further letters to any of them.TheSpatio-analyst remained unfound, whilePage 57 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlTran-tor maintained a desultory search.There was no trace of apoca-lypticrumors on Florina, and the harvesting and processing of kyrt continued itssmooth pace.The Squire of Rune took to calling Fife at weekly intervals. Fife, he would call. Anything new? His fatness wouldquiver with delight and thick chuckles would force their way out of hisgullet.Fife took it bleakly and stolidly.What could he do? Over and overagain he sifted the facts.It was no use.Something was missing.Some vital factor was missing.And then it all began exploding at once, and he had the an-swer.He knew hehad the answer, and it was what he had not expected.He had called a meeting once again.The chronometer now said two twenty-nine.They were beginning to appear now.Bort first, lips com-pressed and a roughhangnailed finger rasping against the grain of his grizzly-stubbled cheek.Then Steen, his face freshly washed clear of its paint andpresenting a pallid, unhealthy ap-pearance.Balle, indifferent and tired,his cheeks sunken, his arm-chair well cushioned, a glass of warm milk at hisside.Lastly Rune, two minutes late, wet-lipped and sulky, sitting in thenight once again.This time his lights were dimmed to the point where he was ahazy bulk sitting in a cube of shadow which Fife s lights could not haveilluminated though they had had the power of Sark s sun.Fife began
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