"Mr. Bindris," said Hari Seldon, reaching out his hand to shake the other's. "I am so glad to be able to see you. It was good of you to agree to see me."
    "Why not?" said Terep Bindris jovially. "I know you well. Or, rather, I know of you well."
    "That's pleasant. I take it you've heard of psychohistory, then."
    "Oh yes, what intelligent person hasn't? Not that I understand anything about it, of course. And who is this young lady you have with you?"
    "My granddaughter, Wanda."
    "A very pretty young woman." He beamed. "Somehow I feel I'd be putty in her hands."
    Wanda said, "I think you exaggerate, sir."
    "No, really. Now, please, sit down and tell me what it is I can do for you." He gestured expansively with his arm, indicating that they be seated on two overstuffed, richly brocaded chairs in front of the desk at which he sat. The chairs, like the ornate desk, the imposing carved doors which had slid back noiselessly at their arrival signal, and the gleaming obsidian floor of Bindris's vast office, were of the finest quality. And, although his surroundings were impressive-and imposing-Bindris himself was not. The slight cordial man would not be taken, at first glance, for one of Trantor's leading financial powerbrokers.
    "We're here, sir, at the Emperor's suggestion."
    "The Emperor?"
    "Yes, he could not help us, but he thought a man like you might be able to do so. The question, of course, is credits."
    Bindris's face fell. "Credits?" he said. "I don't understand."
    "Well," said Seldon, "for nearly forty years, psychohistory has been supported by the government. However, times change and the Empire is no longer what it was."
    "Yes, I know that."'
    "The Emperor lacks the credits to support us or, even if he did have the cr............