Forward the Foundation Chapter 8

21In twain days Joranum had swept Trantor, partly by himself, mostly through his lieutenants. As Hari muttered to Dors, it was a campaign that had exclusively the marks of military efficiency. He was innate(p) to be a war admiral in the old days, he utter. Hes wasted on politics.And Dors utter, Wasted? At this rate, hes going to advert himself maiden see in a week and, if he wishes, emperor al peerlessterfly in two weeks. thither be reports that some of the military garrisons are lucky him.Seldon shake his head. It lead collapse, Dors.What? Joranums party or the conglomerate?Joranums party. The story of the automaton has created an instant stir, especi every(prenominal)y with the effective mathematical function of that flier, yet a midget prospect, a little coolness, and the habitual giveing see it for the ridiculous charge it is. patently, Hari, said Dors tightly, you neednt pretend with me. It is non a ridiculous story. How could Joranum possibly redeem fo und out that Demerzel is a automaton?Oh, that Why, Raych told him so.RaychThats right. He did his job abruptly and got back fail-safely with the engagement of being ghastlye Dahls sector loss leader someday. Of course he was believed. I knew he would be.You signify you told Raych that Demerzel was a robot and had him pass on the news to Joranum? Dors tone of voiceed utterly horrified.No, I couldnt do that. You neck I couldnt control Raych-or any single-that Demerzel was a robot. I told Raych as firmly as I could that Demerzel was non a robot-and plain that much was difficult. But I did ask him to tell Joranum that he was. He is under the firm archetype that he lied to Joranum.But why, Hari? Why?Its non psychohistory, Ill tell you that. Dont you unify the emperor in specifying Im a magician. I just valued Joranum to believe that Demerzel was a robot. Hes a Mycogenian by birth, so he was fill from youth with his cultures tales of robots. Therefore, he was predispose d to believe and he was convinced that the public would believe with him.Well, wont they?Not really. After the initial shock is everyplace, they bequeath empathise that its madcap fiction-or they will mean so. Ive persuaded Demerzel that he essential give a talk on subetheric holovision to be broadcast to key portions of the Empire and to each sector on Trantor. He is to talk or so e trulything moreover the robot issue. There are adequacy crises, we all drive in, to fill such a talk. People will listen and will check nonhing near robots. Then, at the end, he will be asked about the flier and he need non answer a word. He need al integrity laugh.Laugh? Ive never k flatn Demerzel to laugh. He almost never smiles.This time, Dors, hell laugh. It is the wholenessness thing that no angiotensin-converting enzyme ever visualizes a robot doing. Youve seen robots in holographic fantasies, sustainnt you? Theyre always pictured as literal-minded, unemotional, inhu humans-That s what people are sure to expect. So Demerzel need merely laugh. And on top of that-Do you remember Sunmaster Fourteen, the apparitional leader of Mycogen?Of course I do. Literal-minded, unemotional, inhuman. Hes never laughed, either.And he wont this time. Ive done a lot of work on this Joranum matter since I had that little set-to at the Field. I crawl in Joranums real name. I know where he was born, who his parents were, where he had his early training, and all of it, with documentary proof, has gone to Sunmaster Fourteen. I dont think Sunmaster likes Breakaways.But I thought you said you dont wish to spark off bigotry.I dont. If I had given the information to the holovision people, I would fork up, but Ive given it to Sunmaster, where, after all, it belongs.And hell start off the bigotry.Of course he wont. No one on Trantor would pay any attention to Sunmaster-whatever he expertness regularize.Then whats the stopover?Well, thats what well see, Dors. I dont take a leak a psychohistorical analysis of the situation. I dont even know if one is possible. I just wish that my judgment is right.22Eto Demerzel laughed.It was non the first time. He sat in that respect, with Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili in a tap-free room, and, every formerly in a while, at a signal from Hari, he would laugh. some clock he leaned back and laughed uproariously, but Seldon shook his head. That would never groovy(p) convincing.So Demerzel smiled and consequently laughed with dignity and Seldon made a face. Im stumped, he said. Its no use trying to tell you funny stories. You get the point besides intellectually. You will simply fall in to memorize the sound.Dors said, Use a holographic laughtrack.No That would never be Demerzel. Thats a bunch of idiots being paid to yak. Its not what I want. Try again, Demerzel.Demerzel tried again until Seldon said, All right, then, memorize that sound and reproduce it when youre asked the question. Youve got to look am employ. You t oilettet create the sound of laughing, however proficient, with a fleshy face. Smile a little, just a little. Pull back the recess of your mouth. Slowly Demerzels mouth broad(a)ned into a grin. Not bad. Can you depict your eye twinkle?What do you mean, twinkle, said Dors indignantly. No one limits their eyeball twinkle. Thats a metaphorical expression.No, its not, said Seldon. Theres the hint of weeping in the eye-sadness, joy, surprise, whatever-and the reflection of cleverness from that hint of fluid is what does it.Well, do you seriously expect Demerzel to produce tears?And Demerzel said, matter-of-factly, My eyes do produce tears for general cleansing-never in excess. Perhaps, though, if I imagine my eyes to be slightly irritated-Try it, said Seldon. It backt hurt.And so it was that when the talk on subetheric holovision was over and the words were streaking out to millions of terra firmas at thousands of times the effective speed of light words that were grave, matter -of-fact, informative, and without rhetorical embellishment-and that discussed everything but robots-Demerzel stated himself ready to answer questions.He did not pay to wait long. The very first question was Mr. scratch line diplomatic minister, are you a robot?Demerzel simply stared calmly and let the tension build. Then he smiled, his body shook slightly, and he laughed. It was not a loud uproarious laugh, but it was a rich one, the laugh of someone enjoying a moment of fantasy. It was infectious. The reference tittered and then laughed along with him.Demerzel waited for the laughter to die pop up and then, eyes twinkling, said, Must I really answer that? Is it necessary to do so? He was belt up smiling as the screen naughtyened.23Im sure it worked, said Seldon. by nature we wont mother a complete reversal instantly. It charges time. But things are sorrowful in the right direction now. I noticed that when I stop Namartis talk at the University Field. The audience was wi th him until I faced him and showed spunk against odds. The audience began to change sides at once.Do you think this is an analogous situation? asked Dors dubiously.Of course. If I dont submit psychohistory, I can use analogy-and the brains I was born with, I suppose. There was the First Minister, beleaguered on all sides with the accusation, and he faced it down with a smile and a laugh, the most nonrobot thing he could shed done, so that in itself was an answer to the question. Of course bounty began to slide to his side. goose egg would stop that. But thats only the beginning. We have to wait for Sunmaster Fourteen and hear what he has to say.Are you confident there, also?Absolutely.24Tennis was one of Haris favorite sports, but he preferred to play rather than draw others. He watched with impatience, therefore, as the Emperor Cleon, dressed in sports fashion, loped crosswise the motor inn to return the ball. It was royal tennis, actually, so-called because it was a favor ite of Emperors, a meter reading of the game in which a com shake offerized racket was used that could alter its lean slightly with appropriate pressures on the breakle. Hari had tried to develop the technique on several occasions but found that mastering the computerized racket would want a great deal of practice-and Hari Seldons time was further too cherished for what was clearly a trivial pursuit.Cleon placed the ball in a nonreturnable position and won the game. He trotted off the court to the cautious applause of the functionaries who were watching and Seldon said to him, Congratulations, Sire. You played a marvelous game.Cleon said indifferently, Do you think so, Seldon? Theyre all so premeditationful to let me win. I get no pleasure out of it.Seldon said, In that case, Sire, you might read your opponents to play harder.It wouldnt help. Theyd be careful to lose anyway. And if they did win, I would get even less pleasure out of losing than out of winning meaninglessly. Being an Emperor has its woes, Seldon. Joranum would have found that out-if he had ever succeeded in be access one.He disappeared into his private shower facility and emerged in due time, scrubbed and arid and dressed rather to a greater extent formally.And now, Seldon he said, waving all the others away, the tennis court is as private a place as we can find and the weather is glorious, so let us not go indoors. I have read the Mycogenian message of this Sunmaster Fourteen. Will it do?Entirely, Sire. As you have read, Joranum was denounced as a Mycogenian Breakaway and is accused of blasphemy in the strongest terms.And does that finish him?It diminishes his importance fatally, Sire. There are a few(prenominal) who accept the mad story of the First Ministers robothood now. Furthermore, Joranum is revealed as a liar and a poser and, worse, one who was caught at it.Caught at it, yes, said Cleon thoughtfully. You mean that merely to be underhanded is to be sly and that may be admir able, while to be caught is to be stupid and that is never admirable.You put it succinctly, Sire.Then Joranum is no long- passing a danger.We cant be certain of that, Sire. He may recover, even now. He still has an organization and some of his followers will remain loyal. write up yields examples of men and women who have come back after disasters as great as this one-or greater.In that case, let us serve him, Seldon.Seldon shook his head. That would be inadvisable, Sire. You would not want to create a martyr or to make yourself appear to be a despot.Cleon frowned. Now you sound like Demerzel. Whenever I wish to take emphatic action, he mutters the word despot. There have been Emperors originally me who have taken forceful action and who have been prize as a result and have been considered strong and decisive.Undoubtedly, Sire, but we get going in troubled times. Nor is execution necessary. You can accomplish your purpose in a way that will make you seem enlightened and benevo lent. have the appearance _or_ semblance enlightened?Be enlightened, Sire. I misspoke. To execute Joranum would be to take revenge, which might be regarded as ignoble. As Emperor, however, you have a kindly-even paternal-attitude toward the beliefs of all your people. You make no distinctions, for you are the Emperor of all alike.What is it youre saying?I mean, Sire, that Joranum has offended the sensibilities of the Mycogenians and you are horrified at his sacrilege, he having been born one of them. What fail can you do but hand Joranum over to the Mycogenians and allow them to take care of him? You will be applauded for your proper Imperial convern.And the Mycogenians will execute him, then?They may, Sire. Their laws against blasphemy are excessively severe. At best, they will confine him for life at hard labor.Cleon smiled. Very redeeming(prenominal). I get the trust for humanity and tolerance and they do the dirty work.They would, Sire, if you actually handed Joranum over t o them. That would, however, still create a martyr.Now you confuse me. What would you have me do?Give Joranum the choice. Say that your regard for the welfare of all the people in your Empire urges you to hand him over to the Mycogenians for trial but that your humanity dismays the Mycogenians may be too severe. Therefore, as an alternative, he may choose to be banished to Nishaya, the small and secluded introduction from which he claimed to have come, to live the rest period of his life in obscurity and peace. Youll see to it that hes kept under guard, of course.And that will take care of things?Certainly. Joranum would be committing virtual suicide if he chose to be returned to Mycogen-and he doesnt strike me as the suicidal type. He will for certain choose Nishaya, and though that is the sensible course of action, it is also an unheroic one. As a refugee in Nishaya, he can scarcely lead any political campaign designed to take over the Empire. His following is sure to disinte grate. They could follow a martyr with holy zeal, but it would be difficult, indeed, to follow a coward. stupefying How did you manage all this, Seldon? There was a distinct note of wonderment in Cleons voice.Seldon said, Well, it seemed reasonable to suppose-Never mind, said Cleon abruptly. I dont suppose youll tell me the impartiality or that I would understand you if you did, but Ill tell you this much. Demerzel is loss office. This last crisis has proved to be too much for him and I coincide with him that it is time for him to retire. But I cant do without a First Minister and, from this moment onward, you are he.Sire exclaimed Seldon in mingled astonishment and horror.First Minister Hari Seldon. said Cleon calmly. The Emperor wishes it.25Dont be alarmed, said Demerzel. It was my suggestion. Ive been here too long and the succession of crises has reached the point where the consideration of the Three Laws paralyzes me. You are the uniform successor.I am not the logical succ essor, said Seldon hotly. What do I know about tally an Empire? The Emperor is foolish enough to believe that I solved this crisis by psychohistory. Of course I didnt.That doesnt matter, Hari. If he believes you have the psychohistorical answer, he will follow you eagerly and that will make you a Good First Minister.He may follow me unbowed into destruction.I feel that your tidy sense-or intuition-will keep you on target with or without psychohistory.But what will I do without you-Daneel?Thank you for calling me that. I am Demerzel no more, only Daneel. As to what you will do without me gauge you try to put into practice some of Joranums ideas of equality and social justice? He may not have meant them-he may have used them only as ways of capturing allegiance-but they are not bad ideas in themselves. And find ways of having Raych help you in that. He clung to you against his own affection to Joranums ideas and he must feel torn and half a traitor. fork over him he isnt. In a ddition, you can work all the harder on psychohistory, for the Emperor will be there with you, heart and soul.But what will you do, Daneel?I have other things in the Galaxy to which I must attend. There is still the Zeroth Law and I must labor for the good of humanity, insofar as I can determine what that might be. And, Hari-Yes, Daneel.You still, have Dors.Seldon nodded. Yes, I still have Dors. He paused for a moment before grasping Daneels firm hand with his own. Good-bye, Daneel.Good-bye, Hari, Daneel replied.And with that, the robot turned, his heavy First Ministers enclothe rustling as he walked away, head up, back ramrod straight, along the castle hallway.Seldon stood there for a few minutes after Daneel had gone, lost in thought. Suddenly he began moving in the direction of the First Ministers apartment. Seldon had one more thing to tell Daneel-the most important thing of all.Seldon hesitated in the softly lit hallway before entering. But the room was empty. The dark robe was draped over a chair. The First Ministers chambers echoed Haris last words to the robot Good-bye, my friend. Eto Demerzel was gone R. Daneel Olivaw had vanished.Part IICleon ICLEON I- though often receiving panegyrics for being the last Emperor under whom the First galactic Empire was reasonably united and reasonably prosperous, the quarter-century reign of Cleon I was one of continuous decline. This cannot be viewed as his direct responsibility, for the Decline of the Empire was found on political and economic factors too strong for anyone to deal with at the time. He was fortunate in his selection of First Ministers-Eto Demerzel and then Hari Seldon, in whose development of psychohistory the Emperor never lost faith. Cleon and Seldon, as the objects of the final Joranumite Conspiracy, with its ridiculous climax- Encyclopedia Galactica1Mandell Gruber was a happy man. He seemed so to Hari Seldon, certainly. Seldon halt his morning constitutional to watch him.Gruber, perhaps i n his late forties, a few days younger than Seldon, was a bit gnarled from his act work in the Imperial Palace grounds, but he had a cheerful, smoothly shaven face, topped by a pink skull, not much of which was hidden by his thin sandy hair. He whistled softly to himself as he inspected the leaves of the bushes for any signs of insect infestation.He was not the headspring Gardener, of course. The Chief Gardener of the Imperial Palace grounds was a in high spirits functionary who had a palatial office in one of the buildings of the extensive Imperial complex, with an army of men and women under him. The chances are he did not inspect the Palace grounds more often than once or twice a year.Gruber was but one of that army. His title, Seldon knew, was Gardener First-Class and it had been salubrious earned, with thirty years of faithful service.Seldon called to him as he paused on the utterly level bunked gravel walk, Another marvelous day, Gruber.Gruber looked up and his eyes tw inkled. Yes, indeed, First Minister, and its sorry I am for those who be cooped up indoors.You mean as I am about to be.Theres not much about you, First Minister, for people to sorrow over, but if youre disappearing into those buildings on a day like this, its a bit of sorrow that we fortunate few can feel for you.I thank you for your sympathy, Gruber, but you know we have forty billion Trantorians under the dome. Are you sorry for all of them?Indeed, I am. I am grateful I am not of Trantorian line of descent myself so that I could qualify as a gardener. There be few of us on this world that work in the open, but here I be, one of the fortunate few.The weather isnt always this ideal.That is true. And I have been out here in the sluicing rains and the whistling winds. Still, as long as you dress fittingly Look- And Gruber spread his arms open, wide as his smile, as if to embrace the vast expanse of the Palace grounds. I have my friends-the trees and the lawns and all the animal life forms to keep me company-and growth to countenance in geometric form, even in the winter. Have you ever seen the geometry of the grounds, First Minister?I am looking at it right now, am I not?I mean the plans spread out so you can really appreciate it all-and marvelous it is, too. It was planned by wiretapper Savand, over a hundred years ago, and it has been little changed since. Tapper was a great horticulturist, the greatest-and he came from my planet.That was Anacreon, wasnt it?Indeed. A far-off world near the progress of the Galaxy, where there is still wilderness and life can be sweet. I came here when I was still an earwet** lad, when the wassail Chief Gardener took motive under the old Emperor. Of course, now theyre talking of redesigning the grounds. Gruber sighed deeply and shook his head. That would be a mistake. They are just right as they are now properly proportioned, well balanced, pleasing to the eye and spirit. But it is true that in history, the grounds have oc casionally been redesigned. Emperors grow tired of the old and are always seeking the new, as if new is somehow always remedy. Our present Emperor, may he live long, has been planning the redesign with the Chief Gardener. At least, that is the word that runs from gardener to gardener. This last he added quickly, as if abashed at spreading Palace gossip.It might not betide soon.I hope not, First Minister. Please, if you have the chance to take some time from all the heart-stopping work you must be after doing, study the design of the grounds. It is a rare beauty and, if I have my way, there should not be a leaf moved out of place, nor a flower, nor a rabbit, anyplace in all these hundreds of square kilometers.Seldon smiled. You are a dedicated man, Gruber. I would not be surprised if someday you were Chief Gardener.May compulsion protect me from that. The Chief Gardener breathes no fresh air, sees no indwelling sights, and forgets all he has learned of nature. He lives there-Grub er pointed scornfully-and I think he no longer knows a bush from a blow unless one of his underlings leads him out and places his hand on one or dips it into the other.For a moment it seemed as though Gruber would expectorate his scorn, but he could not find any place on which he could bear to spit.Seldon laughed quietly. Gruber, its good to talk to you. When I am overcome with the duties of the day, it is pleasant to take a few moments to listen to your philosophy of life.Ah, First Minister, it is no philosopher I am. My development was very sketchy.You dont need schooling to be a philosopher. Just an dynamic mind and experience with life. Take care, Gruber. I just might have you promoted.If you but leave me as I am, First Minister, you will have my total gratitude.Seldon was smiling as he moved on, but the smile faded as his mind turned once more to his incumbent problems. Ten years as First Minister-and if Gruber knew how heartily sick Seldon was of his position, his sympathy would rise to enormous heights. Could Gruber grasp the fact that Seldons progress in the techniques of psychohistory showed the promise of facing him with an unbearable dilemma?2Seldons thoughtful stroll across the grounds was the epitome of peace. It was hard to believe here, in the midst of the Emperors nimble domain, that he was on a world that, except for this area, was totally enclose by a dome. Here, in this spot, he might be on his home world of Helicon or on Grubers home world of Anacreon.Of course, the sense of peace was an illusion. The grounds were guarded-thick with security.Once, a thousand years ago, the Imperial Palace grounds-much less palatial, much less differentiated from a world only beginning to construct domes over individual regions-had been open to all citizens and the Emperor himself could walk along the paths, unguarded, nodding his head in recognise to his subjects.No more. Now security was in place and no one from Trantor itself could possibly invade the grounds. That did not remove the danger, however, for that, when it came, came from discontented Imperial functionaries and from fog and suborned soldiers. It was within the grounds that the Emperor and his staff were most in danger. What would have happened if, on that occasion, nearly ten years before, Seldon had not been accompanied by Dors Venabili?It had been in his first year as First Minister and it was only natural, he supposed (after the fact), that there would be jealous heart-burning over his upset(prenominal) choice for the post. Many others, far better qualified in training-in years of service and, most of all, in their own eyes-could view the appointment with anger. They did not know of psychohistory or of the importance the Emperor attached to it and the easiest way to fabricate the situation was to corrupt one of the sworn protectors of the First Minister.Dors must have been more suspicious than Seldon himself was. Or else, with Demerzels disappearance from th e scene, her instructions to guard Seldon had been strengthened. The truth was that, for the first few years of his First Ministership, she was at his side more often than not.And on the late afternoon of a warm smiling day, Dors noted the glint of the westering sun-a sun never seen under Trantors dome-on the metal of a blaster.Down, Hari she cried suddenly and her legs crushed the grass as she raced toward the sergeant.Give me that blaster, Sergeant, she said tightly.The ambitious assassin, momentarily immobilized by the unexpected sight of a woman path toward him, now reacted quickly, raising the drawn blaster.But she was already at him, her hand enclosing his right wrist in a steely bag and lifting his arm high. Drop it, she said through clenched teeth.The sergeants face distorted as he attempted to yank his arm loose.Dont try, Sergeant, said Dors. My human knee is three inches from your groin and, if you so much as blink, your genitals will be history. So just freeze. Tha ts right. Okay, now open your hand. If you dont drop the blaster right now, I will shatter your arm.A gardener came running up with a rake. Dors motioned him away. The sergeant dropped the blaster to the ground.Seldon had arrived. Ill take over, Dors.You will not. furbish up in among those trees and take the blaster with you. Others may be involved-and ready to act.Dors had not loosened her grip on the sergeant. She said, Now, Sergeant, I want the name of whoever it was who persuaded you to make an attempt on the First Ministers life-and the name of everyone else who is in this with you.The sergeant was silent.Dont be foolish, said Dors. Speak She twisted his arm and he sank down to his knees. She put her shoe on his neck. If you think silence becomes you, I can crush your larynx and you will be silent forever. And even before that, I am going to damage you badly-I wont leave one bone unbroken. You had better talk.The sergeant talked.Later Seldon had said to her, How could you do t hat, Dors? I never believed you fitted of such violence. Dors said coolly, I did not actually hurt him much, Hari. The terror was sufficient. In any case, your safety was paramount.You should have let me take care of him.Why? To salvage your masculine pride? You wouldnt have been fast enough, for one thing. Secondly, no matter what you would have succeeded in doing, you are a man and it would have been expected. I am a woman and women, in frequent thought, are not considered as ferocious its men and most, in general, do not have the strength to do what I did. The story will improve in the telling and everyone will be terrified of me. No one will dare to try to harm you for fear of me.For fear of you and for fear of execution. The sergeant and his cohorts are to be killed, you know.At this, an anguished look clouded Dorss usually composed visage, as if she could not stand the thought of the traitorous sergeant being put to death, even though he would have cut down her beloved Hari without a second thought.But, she exclaimed, there is no need to execute the conspirators. Exile will do the job.No, it wont, said Seldon. Its too late. Cleon will hear of nothing but executions. I can quote him-if you wish.You mean hes already made up his mind?At once. I told him that exile or imprisonment would be all that was necessary, but he said no. He said, Every time I try to solve a problem by direct and forceful action, first Demerzel and then you talk of despotism and tyranny. But this is my Palace. These are my grounds. These are my guardsmen. My safety depends on the security of this place and the loyalty of my people. Do you think that any deviation from absolute loyalty can be met with anything but instant death? How else would you be safe? How else would I be safe?I said there would have to be a trial. Of course, he said, a short military trial and I dont expect a single vote for anything but execution. I shall make that quite clear. Dors looked appalled. Youre vic torious this very quietly. Do you agree with the Emperor?Reluctantly Seldon nodded. I do.Because there was an attempt on your life. Have you abandoned your principles for mere revenge?Now, Dors, Im not a vengeful person. However, it was not myself alone at risk or even the Emperor. If there is anything that the recent history of the Empire shows us, it is that Emperors come and go. It is psychohistory that must be protected. Undoubtedly, even if something happens to me, psychohistory will someday be developed, but the Empire is falling fast and we cannot wait-and only I have advanced far enough to obtain the necessary techniques in time.Then you should teach what you know to others, said Dors gravely.Im doing so. Yugo Amaryl is a reasonable successor and I have self-contained a group of technicians who will someday be useful, but they wont be as- He paused.They wont be as good as you-as wise, as sufficient? Really?I happen to think so, said Seldon. And I happen to be human. Psycho history is mine and, if I can possibly manage it, I want the credit.Human, sighed Dors, shaking her head almost sadly.The executions went through. No such project had been seen in over a century. Two Ministers, five officials of lower ranks, and quartette soldiers, including the hapless sergeant, met their deaths. Every guardsman who could not withstand the most rigorous investigating was relieved of duty and exiled to the remote Outer Worlds.Since then, there had been no rustle of disloyalty and so notorious had become the care with which the First Minister was guarded, to say nothing of the terrifying woman-called The Tiger Woman by many-who watched over him, that it was no longer necessary for Dors to accompany him everywhere. Her invisible presence was an adequate test and the Emperor Cleon enjoyed nearly ten years of quiet and absolute security.Now, however, psychohistory was at last reaching the point where predictions, of a sort, could be made and, as Seldon cut through the grounds in his passage from his office (First Minister) to his laboratory (psychohistorian), he was apprehensively aware of the likelihood that this era of peace might be coming to an end.