This was the second meeting of the Board that Hardin had attended, if one were to
exclude the informal talks the Board members had had with the now-departed Lord
Dorwin. Yet the mayor had a perfectly definite idea that at least one other, and
possibly two or three, had been held, to which he had somehow never received an
invitation.
Nor, it seemed to him, would he have received notification of this one had it not
been for the ultimatum.
At least, it amounted to an ultimatum, though a superficial reading of the
visigraphed document would lead one to suppose that it was a friendly interchange
of greetings between two potentates.
Hardin fingered it gingerly. It started off floridly with a salutation from "His Puissant
Majesty, the King of Anacreon, to his friend and brother, Dr. Lewis Pirenne,
Chairman of the Board of Trustees, of the Encyclopedia Foundation Number One,"
and it ended even more lavishly with a gigantic, multicolored seal of the most
involved symbolism.
But it was an ultimatum just the same.
Hardin said: "It turned out that we didn't have much time after all – only three
months. But little as it was, we threw it away unused. This thing here gives us a
week. What do we do now?"
Pirenne frowned worriedly. "There must be a loophole. It is absolutely unbelievable
that they would push matters to extremities in the face of what Lord Dorwin has
assured us regarding the attitude of the Emperor and the Empire."
Hardin perked up. "I see. You have informed the King of Anacreon of this alleged
attitude?"
"I did – after having placed the proposal to the Board for a vote and having
received unanimous consent."
"And when did this vote take place?"
Pirenne climbed onto his dignity. "I do not believe I am answerable to you in any
way, Mayor Hardin."
"All right. I'm not that vitally interested. It's just my opinion that it was your
diplomatic transmission of Lord Dorwin's valuable contribution to the situation"– he
lifted the comer of his mouth in a sour half-smile –"that was the direct cause of this
friendly little note. They might have delayed longer otherwise – though I don't think
the additional time would have helped Terminus any, considering the attitude of the
Board."
Said Yate Fulham: "And just how do you arrive at that remarkable conclusion, Mr.
Mayor?"
"In a rather simple way. It merely required the use of that much-neglected
commodity – common sense. You see, there is a branch of human knowledge
known as symbolic logic, which can be used to prune away all sorts of clogging
deadwood that clutters up human language."
"What about it?" said Fulham.
"I applied it. Among other things, I applied it to this document here. I didn't really
need to for myself because I knew what it was all about, but I think I can explain it
more easily to five physical scientists by symbols rather than by words."
Hardin removed a few sheets of paper from the pad under his arm and spread
them out. "I didn't do this myself, by the way," he said. "Muller Holk of the Division
of Logic has his name signed to the analyses, as you can see."
Pirenne leaned over the table to get a better view and Hardin continued: "The
message from Anacreon was a simple problem, naturally, for the men who wrote it
were men of action rather than men of words. It boils down easily and
straightforwardly to the unqualified statement, when in symbols is what you see,
and which in words, roughly translated, is, 'You give us what we want in a week, or
we take it by force.'"
There was silence as the five members of the Board ran down the line of symbols,
and then Pirenne sat down and coughed uneasily.
Hardin said, "No loophole, is there, Dr. Pirenne?"
"Doesn't seem to be."
"All right." Hardin replaced the sheets. "Before you now you see a copy of the
treaty between the Empire and Anacreon – a treaty, incidentally, which is signed
on the Emperor's behalf by the same Lord Dorwin who was here last week – and
with it a symbolic analysis."
The treaty ran through five pages of fine print and the analysis was scrawled out in
just under half a page.
"As you see, gentlemen, something like ninety percent of the treaty boiled right out
of the analysis as being meaningless, and what we end up with can be described
in the following interesting manner:
"Obligations of Anacreon to the Empire: None!
"Powers of the Empire over Anacreon: None!"
Again the five followed the reasoning anxiously, checking carefully back to the
treaty, and when they were finished, Pirenne said in a worried fashion, "That
seems to be correct."
"You admit, then, that the treaty is nothing but a declaration of total independence
on the part of Anacreon and a recognition of that status by the Empire?"
"It seems so."
"And do you suppose that Anacreon doesn't realize that, and is not anxious to
emphasize the position of independence – so that it would naturally tend to resent
any appearance of threats from the Empire? Particularly when it is evident that the
Empire is powerless to fulfill any such threats, or it would never have allowed
independence."
"But then," interposed Sutt, "how would Mayor Hardin account for Lord Dorwin's
assurances of Empire support? They seemed –" He shrugged. "Well, they seemed
satisfactory."
Hardin threw himself back in the chair. "You know, that's the most interesting part
of the whole business. I'll admit I had thought his Lordship a most consummate
donkey when I first met him – but it turned out that he was actually an
accomplished diplomat and a most clever man. I took the liberty of recording all his
statements."
There was a flurry, and Pirenne opened his mouth in horror.
"What of it?" demanded Hardin. "I realize it was a gross breach of hospitality and a
thing no so-called gentleman would do. Also, that if his lordship had caught on,
things might have been unpleasant; but he didn't, and I have the record, and that's
that. I took that record, had it copied out and sent that to Holk for analysis, also."
Lundin Crast said, "And where is the analysis?"
"That," replied Hardin, "is the interesting thing. The analysis was the most difficult
of the three by all odds. When Holk, after two days of steady work, succeeded in
eliminating meaningless statements, vague gibberish, useless qualifications – in
short, all the goo and dribble – he found he had nothing left. Everything canceled
out."
"Lord Dorwin, gentlemen, in five days of discussion didn't say one damned thing,
and said it so you never noticed. There are the assurances you had from your
precious Empire."