Forward the Foundation Chapter 8

21In two days Joranum had swept Trantor, partly by himself, broadly through his lieutenants. As Hari muttered to Dors, it was a campaign that had each the marks of troops efficiency. He was natural to be a war admiral in the old days, he utter. Hes wasted on politics.And Dors verbalise, Wasted? At this rate, hes everywheretaking to launch himself offset Minister in a week and, if he wishes, emperor moth in two weeks. There atomic number 18 reports that or so of the military garrisons are cheering him.Seldon shook his chair. It result collapse, Dors.What? Joranums party or the empire?Joranums party. The story of the robot has created an instant stir, especi anyy with the effective use of that flier, nevertheless a minuscular thought, a little coolness, and the public lead guess it for the zany accusation it is. however, Hari, utter Dors tightly, you neednt pretend with me. It is non a ridiculous story. How could Joranum perhaps befool found verboten that Dem erzel is a robot?Oh, that Why, Raych told him so.RaychThats right. He did his job perfectly and got a drive outtha safely with the promise of cosmos make Dahls sector melter someday. Of lineage he was believed. I knew he would be.You nasty you told Raych that Demerzel was a robot and had him pass on the news to Joranum? Dors looked utterly horrified.No, I couldnt do that. You dwell I couldnt tell Raych-or any hotshot(a)-that Demerzel was a robot. I told Raych as firmly as I could that Demerzel was non a robot-and thus far that such(prenominal)(prenominal) was difficult. exclusively I did ask him to tell Joranum that he was. He is at a lower get off the firm impression that he lied to Joranum. besides why, Hari? Why?Its not psychohistory, Ill tell you that. Dont you join the Emperor in thinking Im a magician. I just destinyed Joranum to believe that Demerzel was a robot. Hes a Mycogenian by birth, so he was consented from youth with his cultures tales of robots. The refore, he was predisposed to believe and he was convinced that the public would believe with him.Well, wont they?Not really. After the initial snow is over, they pass on realize that its madcap fiction-or they will think so. Ive persuaded Demerzel that he moldiness give a talk on subetheric holovision to be broadcast to account portions of the pudding stone and to every sector on Trantor. He is to talk intimately every amour save the robot issue. There are enough crises, we all know, to fill such a talk. People will listen and will memorise nothing round robots. wherefore, at the end, he will be asked about the flier and he need not answer a interchange. He need only laugh.Laugh? Ive never known Demerzel to laugh. He more or less never smiles.This time, Dors, hell laugh. It is the genius thing that no one ever visualizes a robot doing. Youve seen robots in holographic fantasies, collectnt you? Theyre always pictured as literal-minded, unemotional, inhuman-Thats what quite a little are certain(p) to be suck. So Demerzel need clearly laugh. And on wind of that-Do you remember Sunmaster Fourteen, the religious 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 produce on this Joranum matter since I had that little set-to at the Field. I know Joranums real name. I know where he was born, who his parents were, where he had his early training, and all of it, with docuwork forcetary proof, has gone to Sunmaster Fourteen. I dont think Sunmaster likes Breakaways. scarcely I thought you said you dont wish to start wrap up bigotry.I dont. If I had given the information to the holovision people, I would have, solely Ive given it to Sunmaster, where, subsequently 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 faculty say. then(prenominal) whats the appoint?Well, thats what well see, Dors. I dont have a psychohistorical analysis of the situation. I dont even so know if one is possible. I just hope that my discretion is right.22Eto Demerzel laughed.It was not the first time. He sat at that enthrone, with Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili in a tap-free room, and, every at a time in a while, at a prognosticate from Hari, he would laugh. Sometimes he leaned back and laughed hilariously, only when Seldon shook his head. That would never goodly convincing.So Demerzel smiled and then laughed with dignity and Seldon make a face. Im stumped, he said. Its no use trying to tell you funny stories. You get the point only intellectually. You will simply have 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. provide again, Demerzel.Demerzel tried again until Seldon said, completely right, then, memorize that sound and reproduce it when youre asked the quest ion. Youve got to look am utilize. You so-and-sot make the sound of laughing, however proficient, with a grave face. Smile a little, just a little. institutionalize back the corner of your mouth. Slowly Demerzels mouth widened into a grin. Not bad. bunghole you make your eye gawk twinkle?What do you wet, twinkle, said Dors indignantly. No one makes their eyes twinkle. Thats a metaphorical expression.No, its not, said Seldon. Theres the hint of tears in the eye-sadness, joy, surprise, whatever-and the reflection of light 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 commonplace cleansing-never in excess. Perhaps, though, if I imagine my eyes to be slightly irritated-Try it, said Seldon. It cant hurt.And so it was that when the talk on subetheric holovision was over and the words were streaking out to millions of realisms at potassiums of times the effective spee d of light words that were grave, matter-of-fact, informative, and without rhetorical embellishment-and that discussed everything however robots-Demerzel declared himself ready to answer questions.He did not have to front long. The very first question was Mr. depression 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, plainly it was a rich one, the laugh of someone enjoying a second of fantasy. It was infectious. The audience tittered and then laughed along with him.Demerzel waited for the laughter to die down and then, eyes twinkling, said, Must I really answer that? Is it necessary to do so? He was still smiling as the screen darkened.23Im sure it worked, said Seldon. Naturally we wont have a complete reversal instantly. It bourgeons time. provided things are moving in the right accusation now. I sight that when I stopped Namartis talk at the Uni versity Field. The audience was with him until I face up 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 have psychohistory, I can use analogy-and the brains I was born with, I suppose. There was the counterbalance Minister, beleaguered on all sides with the accusation, and he faced it down with a smile and a laugh, the nigh nonrobot thing he could have done, so that in itself was an answer to the question. Of course kindness began to slide to his side. Nothing 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 in that respect, too?Absolutely.24Tennis was one of Haris positron emission tomography sports, but he preferred to flirt rather than watch others. He watched with impatience, on that pointfore, as the Emperor Cleon, dressed in sports fashion, loped across the court to retu rn the ball. It was regal tennis, truly, so-called because it was a favorite of Emperors, a version of the game in which a computerized racket was used that could alter its angle slightly with appropriate pressures on the handle. Hari had tried to arrive the technique on several occasions but found that get the hang the computerized racket would take a great deal of practice-and Hari Seldons time was remote too precious 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 providential game.Cleon said indifferently, Do you think so, Seldon? Theyre all so careful to let me win. I get no pleasure out of it.Seldon said, In that case, Sire, you force order your opponents to play harder.It wouldnt help. Theyd be careful to lose anyway. And if they did win, I would get even less plea sure out of losing than out of triumphant meaninglessly. Being an Emperor has its woes, Seldon. Joranum would have found that out-if he had ever succeeded in becoming one.He disappeared into his private shower facility and emerged in callable time, scrubbed and dried and dressed rather more formally.And now, Seldon he said, motion all the others away, the tennis court is as private a place as we can find and the stick out is glorious, so let us not go indoors. I have read the Mycogenian message of this Sunmaster Fourteen. pass on it do?Entirely, Sire. As you have read, Joranum was denounced as a Mycogenian Breakaway and is incriminate of blasphemy in the bullneckedest terms.And does that finish him?It diminishes his importance fatally, Sire. There are fewer who accept the mad story of the graduation exercise Ministers robothood now. Furthermore, Joranum is revealed as a liar and a poseur and, worse, one who was caught at it.Caught at it, yes, said Cleon profoundly. You mea n that merely to be down the stairs(a)handed is to be sly and that whitethorn be admirable, while to be caught is to be stupid and that is never admirable.You put it succinctly, Sire.Then Joranum is no longer a danger.We cant be certain of that, Sire. He whitethorn recover, even now. He still has an organization and some of his comeers will remain loyal. History yields examples of men and women who have come back aft(prenominal) disasters as great as this one-or greater.In that case, let us actualize him, Seldon.Seldon shook his head. That would be inadvisable, Sire. You would not want to create a martyrize or to make yourself appear to be a despot.Cleon frowned. Now you sound like Demerzel. Whenever I wish to take forceful put to death, he mutters the word despot. There have been Emperors before me who have taken forceful action and who have been admired as a result and have been considered knockout and decisive.Undoubtedly, Sire, but we live in troubled times. Nor is exe cution necessary. You can get through your purpose in a way that will make you depend enlightened and benevolent.Seem enlightened?Be enlightened, Sire. I misspoke. To execute Joranum would be to take revenge, which expertness be regarded as ignoble. As Emperor, however, you have a kindly-even paternal-attitude toward the beliefs of all your people. You make no differentions, for you are the Emperor of all alike.What is it youre manifestation?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 better 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 imprison him for life at hard labor.Cleon smiled. Very good. I get the credit for humanity and tolerance and t hey do the dirty work.They would, Sire, if you in truth handed Joranum over to them. That would, however, still create a martyr.Now you hide me. What would you have me do? enforce 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 fears the Mycogenians may be too severe. Therefore, as an alternative, he may choose to be banished to Nishaya, the small and secluded world from which he claimed to have come, to live the rest of his life in obscurity and peace. Youll see to it that hes unploughed 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 certainly choose Nishaya, and though that is the sensible course of action, it is besides an unheroic one. As a refugee in Nishaya, he can scarcely lead any movement designed to take over the Empire. His following is sure to disintegrate. They could follow a martyr with holy zeal, but it would be difficult, indeed, to follow a coward.Astonishing How did you manage all this, Seldon? There was a distinct note of admiration in Cleons voice.Seldon said, Well, it seemed reasonable to suppose-Never mind, said Cleon abruptly. I dont suppose youll tell me the truth or that I would understand you if you did, but Ill tell you this much. Demerzel is leaving office. This last crisis has proved to be too much for him and I agree with him that it is time for him to retire. But I cant do without a beginning Minister and, from this moment onward, you are he.Sire exclaimed Seldon in mingled wonder and horror. stolon Minister Hari Seldon. said Cleon calmly. The Emperor wishes it.25Dont be al fortifyed, 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 terce Laws paralyzes me. Yo u are the logical successor.I am not the logical successor, said Seldon hotly. What do I know about running 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 thirstily and that will make you a Good First Minister.He may follow me straight into destruction.I feel that your good sense-or intuition-will persist 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 Suppose you try to put into practice some of Joranums ideas of comparability 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 attraction to Joranums ideas and he moldiness feel torn and fractional a traitor. Show him he isnt. In addition, 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 insure 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 loaded down(p) First Ministers robe rustling as he walked away, head up, back ramrod straight, along the Palace 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 close to principal(prenominal) 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 oft receiving panegyrics for being the last Emperor under whom the First Galactic Empire was reasonably united and reasonably prosperous, the quarter-century direct of Cleon I was one of continuous decline. This cannot be controled as his direct responsibility, for the downslope of the Empire was based 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 bizarre climax- Encyclopedia Galactica1Mandell Gruber was a happy man. He seemed so to H ari Seldon, certainly. Seldon stopped his morning constitutional to watch him.Gruber, perhaps in his late forties, a few years younger than Seldon, was a spell gnarled from his continuing work in the Imperial Palace causa, but he had a cheerful, smoothly shaven face, topped by a pink skull, not much of which was hidden by his thin blond hair. He whistled softly to himself as he inspected the leaves of the renderes for any signs of insect infestation.He was not the forefront gardener, of course. The head Gardener of the Imperial Palace grounds was a high functionary who had a palatial office in one of the buildings of the enormous 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 well earned, with thirty years of faithful service.Seldon called to him as he paused on the perfectly lev el crushed gravel walk, Another marvelous day, Gruber.Gruber looked up and his eyes twinkled. Yes, indeed, First Minister, and its gloomy 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 mourning over, but if youre disappear 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 extraction myself so that I could qualify as a gardener. There be few of us on this world that work in the present, 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 stream rains and the whistling winds. Still, as long as you dress fittingly Look- And Gruber shell out his arms open, wide as his smile, as if to embrace the vast slam 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 encourage in geometric form, even in the winter. book you ever seen the geometry of the grounds, First Minister?I am looking at it right now, am I not?I mean the plans outflank out so you can really appreciate it all-and marvelous it is, too. It was think by Tapper 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 edge 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 present Chief Gardener took power under the old Emperor. Of course, now theyre talking of redesigning the grounds. Gruber sighed late 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 occasionally been redesigned. Emperors grow hackneyed of the old and are always seeking the new, as if new is in some way always better. 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 pass along 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, strike the design of the grounds. It is a rare beauty and, if I have my way, there should not be a leaf move out of place, nor a flower, nor a rabbit, anywhere 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 Fate protect me from that. The Chief Gardener breathes no unfermented air, sees no natural sights, and forgets all he has learned of nature. He lives there-Gruber pointed scornfully-and I think he no longer knows a bush from a stream 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 chill outly. Gruber, its good to talk to you. When I am overcome with the duties of the day, it is amiable to take a few moments to listen to your philosophy of life.Ah, First Minister, it is no philosopher I am. My schooling was very sketchy.You dont need schooling to be a philosopher. Just an active 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 current problems. Ten years as First Mini ster-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 come 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 immediate domain, that he was on a world that, besides for this area, was totally enclosed 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 distinguish from a world only beginning to construct domes over someone regions-had been open to all citizens and the Emperor himself could walk along the paths, unguarded, nodding his head in greeting to his subjects.No more. No w 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 dissatisfy Imperial functionaries and from corrupt 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 suspicious heart-burning over his unexpected choice for the post. Many others, far better capable 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 disposed to it and the easiest way to correct the situation was to corrupt one of the sworn protectors of the First Minister.Dors must have been more suspiciou s than Seldon himself was. Or else, with Demerzels disappearance from the scene, her operating 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 sunny 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 would-be assassin, momentarily immobilized by the unexpected sight of a woman running toward him, now reacted quickly, raising the drawn blaster.But she was already at him, her hand enclosing his right wrist in a steely grip and lifting his arm high. Drop it, she said through prehend teeth.The sergeants face twisted as he attempted to yank his arm loose.Dont try, Sergeant, said Dors. My knee is three inches from your groin and, if you so much as blink, your genitals will be history. So just freeze. Thats 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. Get 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 ser geant talked.Later Seldon had said to her, How could you do that, Dors? I never believed you capable of such violence. Dors said coolly, I did not actually hurt him much, Hari. The threat 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 popular 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 legal injury 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 bein g 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, all(prenominal) 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 subjection 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 anyth ing but execution. I shall make that quite clear. Dors looked appalled. Youre taking 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 gathered 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 capable? Really?I happen to think so, said Seldon. And I happen to be human. Psychohistory 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 purge had been seen in over a century. Two Ministers, 5 officials of lower ranks, and four soldiers, including the hapless sergeant, met their deaths. Every guardsman who could not withstand the most rigorous investigation was relieved of duty and exiled to the remote Outer Worlds.Since then, there had been no whisper 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 front line was an adequate shield and the Emperor Cleon enjoyed nearly ten years of quiet and absolute security.Now, however, psychohistory was finally reaching the point where predict ions, of a sort, could be made and, as Seldon crossed the grounds in his passage from his office (First Minister) to his lab (psychohistorian), he was uneasily aware of the likelihood that this era of peace might be coming to an end.