Anselm haut  Rodric ?"haut" itself  signifying noble blood -Sub-prefect ofPluema  and Envoy  Extraordinary of  his Highness  of Anacreon-plus  half adozen other  titleswas met by Salvor  Hardin at the spaceport  with all theimposing ritual of a state occasion.
With a  tight smile and a low bow, the  sub-prefect had flipped his blasterfrom its holster and presented it to Hardin butt first. Hardin returned thecompliment  with,  a  blaster   specifically  borrowed  for  the  occasion.
Friendship and  good will  were thus established,  and if Hardin  noted thebarest  bulge  at  Haut  Rodric's  shoulder,  he  prudently  said  nothing.
The ground car that received them then ?preceded, flanked, and followed bythe  suitable  cloud  of   minor  functionaries  ? proceeded  in  a  slow,ceremonious manner  to Cyclopedia Square, cheered on  its way by a properlyenthusiastic crowd.
Sub-prefect Anselm received the cheers with the complaisant indifference ofa soldier and a nobleman.
He said to Hardin, "And this city is all your world?"Hardin  raised his  voice to  be heard  above the  clamor. "We are  a youngworld, your  eminence. In our short history we have  had but few members ofthe  higher  nobility visiting  our  poor planet.  Hence, our  enthusiasm."It is certain that  "higher nobility" did not recognize irony when he heardit.
He said  thoughtfully: "Founded fifty  years ago. Hm-mmm! You  have a greatdeal of unexploited land here, mayor. You have never considered dividing itinto estates?""There is no necessity  as yet. We're extremely centralized; we have to be,because  of the  Encyclopedia.  Someday, perhaps,  when our  population hasgrown?
"A strange world! You have no peasantry?"Hardin reflected that it didn't require a great deal of acumen to tell thathis eminence  was indulging in a  bit of fairly clumsy  pumping. He repliedcasually, "No ?nor nobility."Haut Rodric's  eyebrows lifted. "And your  leader ?the man  I am to meet?""You mean  Dr. Pirenne? Yes! He is the Chairman of  the Board of Trustees ?
and a personal representative of the Emperor.""Doctor?  No  other  title?  A  scholar?   And  he  rates  above the  civilauthority?""Why,  certainly," replied  Hardin,  amiably. "We're  all scholars  more orless. After  all, we're  not so much  a world as a  scientific foundation ?
under the direct control of the Emperor."There was  a faint emphasis upon the last  phrase that seemed to disconcertthe  sub-prefect. He remained  thoughtfully silent  during the rest  of theslow way to Cyclopedia Square.
If Hardin  found himself bored by the  afternoon and evening that followed,he had at least  the satisfaction of realizing that Pirenne and Haut Rodric?having met with loud and mutual protestations of esteem and regard ?weredetesting each other's company a good deal more.
Haut Rodric  had attended with  glazed eye to Pirenne's  lecture during the"inspection  tour" of  the  Encyclopedia Building.  With polite  and vacantsmile, he had listened  to the latter's rapid patter as they passed throughthe vast storehouses of  reference films and the numerous projection rooms.
It was  only after  he had gone  down level by  level into  and through thecomposing  departments,  editing departments,  publishing departments,  andfilming  departments  that  he  made  the  first  comprehensive  statement.
"This is all very interesting," he said, "but it seems a strange occupationfor grown men. What good is it?"It was  a remark, Hardin noted,  for which Pirenne found  no answer, thoughthe expression of his face was most eloquent.
The dinner  that evening  was much the  mirror image of the  events of thatafternoon, for Haut Rodric  monopolized the conversation by describing ?inminute  technical detail  and with  incredible zest  ?his own  exploits asbattalion head  during the recent war  between Anacreon and the neighboringnewly proclaimed Kingdom of Smyrno.
The details  of the  sub-prefect's account were not  completed until dinnerwas over and one  by one the minor officials had drifted away. The last bitof  triumphant   description  of  mangled  spaceships   came  when  he  hadaccompanied Pirenne and Hardin onto the balcony and relaxed in the warm airof the summer evening.
"And  now,"  he  said,  with  a  heavy  joviality,  "to  serious  matters.""By all  means," murmured Hardin, lighting a long  cigar of Vegan tobacco ?
not many  left, he  reflected ?and  teetering his chair back  on two legs.
The Galaxy  was high in the  sky and its misty  lens shape stretched lazilyfrom  horizon to  horizon.  The few  stars here  at  the very  edge  of theuniverse were insignificant twinkles in comparison.
"Of course," said the  sub-prefect, "all the formal discussions ?the papersigning and such dull  technicalities, that is ?will take place before the?What is it you call your Council?""The Board of Trustees," replied Pirenne, coldly.
"Queer name! Anyway, that's  for tomorrow. We might as well clear away someof the underbrush, man to man, right now, though. Hey?""And this means? prodded Hardin.
"Just this. There's been  a certain change in the situation out here in thePeriphery and  the status of your planet has  become a trifle uncertain. Itwould be  very convenient if we succeeded in  coming to an understanding asto how the matter  stands. By the way, mayor, have you another one of thosecigars?"Hardin started and produced one reluctantly.
Anselm haut Rodric sniffed  at it and emitted a clucking sound of pleasure.
"Vegan tobacco! Where did you get it?""We received some last  shipment. There's hardly any left. Space knows whenwe'll get more ?if ever."Pirenne scowled. He didn't smoke ?and, for that matter, detested the odor.
"Let  me understand  this,  your eminence.  Your mission  is merely  one ofclarification?"Haut  Rodric   nodded  through   the  smoke  of  his   first  lusty  puffs.
"In  that  case,  it  is soon  over.  The  situation  with  respect to  theEncyclopedia Foundation is what it always has been.""Ah! And what is it that it always has been?""Just  this:  A  State-supported scientific  institution  and  part of  thepersonal domain of his august majesty, the Emperor."The  sub-prefect seemed unimpressed.  He blew  smoke rings. "That's  a nicetheory, Dr.  Pirenne. I imagine you've got  charters with the Imperial Sealupon it ?but what's the actual situation? How do you stand with respect toSmyrno? You're not fifty  parsecs from Smyrno's capital. you know. And whatabout Konom and Daribow?"Pirenne  said: "We  have nothing  to do  with any  prefect. As part  of theEmperor's?
"They're  not  prefects," reminded  Haut  Rodric;  "they're kingdoms  now.""Kingdoms  then.  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  them.  As  a  scientificinstitution?
"Science be  damned!" swore the other.  "What the devil has  that got to dowith the fact that we're ............