Through the shrieking din and confusion, Wienis' bull voice sounded. "Get the flares! Get the flares!"
He buffeted right and left through the crowd and forced his way to the door. From without, palace guards had streamed into the darkness.
Somehow the flares were brought back to the ballroom; flares that were to have been used in the gigantic torchlight procession through the streets of the city after the coronation.
Back to the ballroom guardsmen swarmed with torches blue, green, and red; where the strange light lit up frightened, confused faces.
"There is no harm done," shouted Wienis. "Keep your places. Power will return in a moment."
He turned to the captain of the guard who stood stiffly at attention. "What is it, Captain?"
"Your highness," was the instant response, "the palace is surrounded by the people of the city."
"What do they want?" snarled Wienis.
"A priest is at the head. He has been identified as High Priest Poly Verisof. He demands the immediate release of Mayor Salvor Hardin and cessation of the war against the Foundation." The report was made in the expressionless tones of an officer, but his eyes shifted uneasily.
Wienis cried, "if any of the rabble attempt to pass the palace gates, blast them out of existence. For the moment, nothing more. Let them howl! There will be an accounting tomorrow."
The torches had been distributed now, and the ballroom was again alight. Wienis rushed to the throne, still standing by the window, and dragged the stricken, wax-faced Lepold to his feet.
"Come with me." He cast one look out of the window. The city was pitch-black. From below there were the hoarse confused cries of the mob. Only toward the fight, where the Argolid Temple stood was there illumination. He swore angrily, and dragged the king away.
Wienis burst into his chambers, the five guardsmen at his heels. Lepold followed, wide-eyed, scared speechless.
"Hardin," said Wienis, huskily, "you are playing with forces too great for you."
The mayor ignored the speaker. In the pearly light of the pocket nucleo-bulb at his side, he remained quietly seated, a slightly ironic smile on his face.
"Good morning, your majesty," he said to Lepold. "I congratulate you on your coronation."
"Hardin," cried Wienis again, "order your priests back to their jobs."
Hardin looked up coolly. "Order them yourself, Wienis, and see who is playing with forces too great for whom. Right now, there's not a wheel turning in Anacreon. There's not a light burning, except in the temples. There's not a drop of water running, except in the temples. On the wintry half of the planet, there's not a calorie of heat, except in the temples. The hospitals are taking in no more patients. The power plants have shut down. All ships are grounded. If you don't like it, Wienis, you can order the priests back to their jobs. I don't wish to."
"By Space, Hardin, I will. If it's to be a showdown, so be it. We'll see if your priests can withstand the army. Tonight, every temple on the planet will be put under army supervision."
"Very good, but how are you going to give the orders? Every line of communication on the planet is shut down. You'll find that neither wave nor hyperwave will work. In fact, the only communicator of the planet that will work outside of the temples, of course is the televisor right here in this room, and I've fitted it only for reception."
Wienis struggled vainly for breath, and Hardin continued, "If you wish you can order your army into the Argolid Temple just outside the palace and then use the ultrawave sets there to contact other portions of the planet. But if you do that, I'm afraid the army contigent will be cut to pieces by the mob, and then what will protect your palace, Wienis? And your lives, Wienis?"
Wienis said thickly, "We can hold out, devil. We'll last the day. Let the mob howl and let the power die, but we'll hold out. And when the news comes back that the Foundation has been taken, your precious mob will find upon what vacuum their religion has been built, and they'll desert your priests and turn against them. I give you until noon tomorrow, Hardin, because you can stop the power on Anacreon but you can't stop my fleet." His voice croaked exultantly. "They're on their way, Hardin, with the great cruiser you yourself ordered repaired, at the head."
Hardin replied lightly. "Yes, the cruiser I myself ordered repaired but in my own way. Tell me, Wienis, have you ever heard of a hyperwave relay? No, I see you haven't. Well, in about two minutes you'll find out what one can do."
The televisor flashed to life as he spoke, and he amended, "No, in two seconds. Sit down, Wienis. and listen."
7.
Theo Aporat was one of the very highest ranking priests of Anacreon. From the standpoint of precedence alone, he deserved his appointment as head priest- attendant upon the flagship Wienis.
But it was not only rank or precedence. He knew the ship. He had worked directly under the holy men from the Foundation itself in repairing the ship. He had gone over the motors under their orders. He had rewired the 'visors; revamped the communications system; replated the punctured hull; reinforced the beams. He had even been permitted to help while the wise men of the Foundation had installed a device so holy it had never been placed in any previous ship, but had been reserved only for this magnificent colossus of a vessel a hyperwave relay.
It was no wonder that he felt heartsick over the purposes to which the glorious ship was perverted. He had never wanted to believe what Verisof had told him that the ship was to be used for appalling wickedness; that its guns were to be turned on the great Foundation. Turned on that Foundation, where he had been trained as a youth, from which all blessedness was derived.