Foundation and Empire by Isaac Asimov Read Free Book Online

carpet, and knelt to kiss the Emperor’s limp hand.
    “Your health, sire?” asked the Privy Secretary in a low tone of becoming anxiety.
    “I live,” snapped the Emperor with exasperation, “if you can call it life where every scoundrel who can read a book of medicine uses me as a blank and receptive field for his feeble experiments. If there is a conceivable remedy, chemical, physical, or nuclear, which has not yet been tried, why then, some learned babbler from the far comers of the realm will arrive tomorrow to try it. And still another newly-discovered book, or forgery morelike, will be used as authority.
    “By my father’s memory,” he rumbled savagely, “it seems there is not a biped extant who can study a disease before his eyes with those same eyes. There is not one who can count a pulse-beat without a book of the ancients before him. I’m sick and they call it ‘unknown.’ The fools! If in the course of millennia, human bodies learn new methods of falling askew, it remains uncovered by the studies of the ancients and uncurable forevermore. The ancients should be alive now, or I then.”
    The Emperor ran down to a low-breathed curse while Brodrig waited dutifully. Cleon II said peevishly, “How many are waiting outside?”
    He jerked his head in the direction of the door.
    Brodrig said patiently, “The Great Hall holds the usual number.”
    “Well, let them wait. State matters occupy me. Have the Captain of the Guard announce it. Or wait, forget the state matters. Just have it announced I hold no audience, and let the Captain of the Guard look doleful. The jackals among them may betray themselves.” The Emperor sneered nastily.
    “There is a rumor, sire,” said Brodrig, smoothly, “that it is your heart that troubles you.”
    The Emperor’s smile was little removed from the previous sneer. “It will hurt others more than myself if any act prematurely on that rumor. But what is it you want. Let’s have this over.”
    Brodrig rose from his kneeling posture at a gesture of permission and said, “It concerns General Bel Riose, the Military Governor of Siwenna.”
    “Riose?” Cleon II frowned heavily. “I don’t place him. Wait, is he the one who sent that quixotic message some months back? Yes, I remember. He panted for permission to enter a career of conquest for the glory of the Empire and Emperor.”
    “Exactly, sire.”
    The Emperor laughed shortly. “Did you think I had such generals left me, Brodrig? He seems to be a curious atavism. What was the answer? I believe you took care of it.”
    “I did, sire. He was instructed to forward additional information and to take no steps involving naval action without further orders from the Imperium.”
    “Hmp. Safe enough. Who is this Riose? Was he ever at court?”
    Brodrig nodded and his mouth twisted ever so little. “He began his career as a cadet in the Guards ten years back. He had part in that affair off the Lemul Cluster.”
    “The Lemul Cluster? You know, my memory isn’t quite – Was that the time a young soldier saved two ships of the line from a head-on collision by … uh … something or other?” He waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t remember the details. It was something heroic.”
    “Riose was that soldier. He received a promotion for it,” Brodrig said dryly, “and an appointment to field duty as captain of a ship.”
    “And now Military Governor of a border system and still young. Capable man, Brodrig!”
    “Unsafe, sire. He lives in the past. He is a dreamer of ancient times, or rather, of the myths of what ancient times used to be. Such men are harmless in themselves, but their queer lack of realism makes them fools for others.” He added, “His men, I understand, are completely under his control. He is one of your popular generals.”
    “Is he?” the Emperor mused. “Well, come, Brodrig, I would not wish to be served entirely by incompetents. They certainly set no enviable standard for faithfulness