Asper Argo, the Well-Beloved, Commdor of the Korellian Republic greeted hiswife's entry by a hangdog lowering of his scanty¹ eyebrows². To her at least,his   self-adopted   epithet   did   not   apply.  Even   he   knew   that.
She said,  in a  voice as sleek  as her hair  and as cold as  her eyes, "Mygracious lord,  I understand, has finally come to  a decision upon the fateof the Foundation upstarts.""Indeed?"  said the  Commdor, sourly.  "And what  more does  your versatileunderstanding embrace?""Enough,  my  very  noble  husband. You  had  another  of your  vacillatingconsultations with your councilors. Fine advisors³." With infinite scorn, "Aherd  of palsied  purblind⁴ idiots  hugging their  sterile⁵ profits  close totheir   sunken   chests  in   the   face  of   my  father's   displeasure.""And who,  my dear," was the  mild response, "is the  excellent source fromwhich your understanding understands all this?"The  Commdora laughed  shortly, "If  I told  you, my  source would  be morecorpse than source.""Well,  you'll have  your  own way,  as always."  The Commdor  shrugged⁶ andturned  away. "And  as for  your father's  displeasure: I  much fear  me itextends to a niggardly⁷ refusal to supply more ships.""More ships!" She blazed away, hotly, "And haven't you five? Don't deny it.
I know you have five; and a sixth is promised.""Promised for the last year.""But one ?just  one ?can blast that Foundation into

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