by Isaac Asimov
Branno said, “Councilman Trevize. The last time we met on Terminus, you said, ‘The time may come, Madam Mayor, when you will ask me for an effort, and I will then do as I choose, and I will remember the past two days.’ I don’t know whether you foresaw this, or intuitively felt it would happen, or simply had what this woman who speaks of a living Galaxy calls a talent for rightness. In any case, you were right. I am asking you for an effort on behalf of the Federation.
“You may, I suppose, feel that you would like to even the score with me for having arrested and exiled you. I ask you to remember that I did it for what I considered the good of the Foundation Federation. Even if I were wrong or even if I acted out of callous self-interest, remember that it was I who did it—and not the Federation. Do not destroy the entire Federation out of a desire to balance what I alone have done to you. Remember that you are a Foundationer and a human being, that you do not want to be a cipher in the plans of the bloodless mathematicians of Trantor or less than a cipher in a Galactic mishmash of life and nonlife. You want yourself, your descendants, your fellow-people to be independent organisms, possessing free will. Nothing else matters.
“These others may tell you that our Empire will lead to bloodshed and misery—but it need not. It is our free-will choice whether this should be so or not. We may choose otherwise. And, in any case, it is better to go to defeat with free will than to live in meaningless security as a cog in a machine. Observe that you are now being asked to make a decision as a free-will human being. These things of Gaia are unable to make a decision because their machinery will not allow them to, so that they depend on you. And they will destroy themselves if you bid them to. Is that what you want for all the Galaxy?”
Trevize said, “I do not know that I have free will, Mayor. My mind may have been subtly dealt with, so that I will give the answer that is desired.”
Novi said, “Your mind is totally untouched. If we could bring ourselves to adjust you to suit our purposes, this whole meeting would be unnecessary. Were we that unprincipled, we could have proceeded with what we would find most pleasing to ourselves with no concern for the greater needs and good of humanity as a whole.”
Gendibal said, “I believe it is my turn to speak. Councilman Trevize, do not be guided by narrow parochialism. The fact that you are Terminus-born should not lead you to believe that Terminus comes before the Galaxy. For five centuries now, the Galaxy has been operating in accordance with the Seldon Plan. In and out of the Foundation Federation, that operation has been proceeding.
“You are, and have been, part of the Seldon Plan above and beyond your lesser role as Foundationer. Do not do anything to disrupt the Plan, either on behalf of a narrow concept of patriotism or out of a romantic longing for the new and untried. The Second Foundationers will in no way hamper the free will of humanity. We are guides, not despots.
“And we offer a Second Galactic Empire fundamentally different from the First. Throughout human history, no decade in all the tens of thousands of years during which hyperspatial travel has existed has been completely free of bloodshed and violent death throughout the Galaxy, even in those periods when the Foundation itself was at peace. Choose Mayor Branno and that will continue endlessly into the future. The same dreary, deadly round. The Seldon Plan offers release from that at last—and not at the price of becoming one more atom in a Galaxy of atoms, being reduced to equality with grass, bacteria, and dust.”
Novi said, “What Speaker Gendibal says of the First Foundation’s Second Empire, I agree with. What he says of his own, I do not. The Speakers of Trantor are, after all, independent free-will human beings and are the same as they have always been. Are they free of destructive competition, of politics, of clawing upward at all costs? Are there no quarrels and even hatreds at the Speaker’s Table—and will they always be guides you dare follow? Put Speaker Gendibal on his honor and ask him this.”
“No need to put me on my honor,” said Gendibal. “I freely admit we have our hatreds, competitions, and betrayals at the Table. But once a decision is reached, it is obeyed by all. There has never been an exception to this.”
Trevize said, “What if I will not make a choice?”
“You must,” said Novi. “You will know that it is right to do so and you will therefore make a choice.”
“What if I try to make a choice and cannot?”
“You must.”
Trevize said, “How much time do I have?”
Novi said, “Until you are sure, however much time that takes.”
Trevize sat silently.
Though the others were silent too, it seemed to Trevize that he could hear the pulsing of his bloodstream.
He could hear Mayor Branno’s voice say firmly, “Free will!”
Speaker Gendibal’s voice said peremptorily, “Guidance and peace!”
Novi’s voice said wistfully, “Life.”
Trevize turned and found Pelorat looking at him intently. He said, “Janov. Have you heard all this?”
“Yes, I have, Golan.”
“What do you think?”
“The decision is not mine.”
“I know that. But what do you think?”
“I don’t know. I am frightened by all three alternatives. And yet a peculiar thought comes to me—”
“Yes?”
“When we first went into space, you showed me the Galaxy. Do you remember?”
“Of course.”
“You speeded time and the Galaxy rotated visibly. And I said, as though anticipating this very time, ‘The Galaxy looks like a living thing, crawling through space.’ Do you think that, in a way, it is alive already?”
And Trevize, remembering that moment, was suddenly sure. He remembered suddenly his feeling that Pelorat, too, would have a vital role to play. He turned in haste, anxious not to have time to think, to doubt, to grow uncertain.
He placed his hands on the terminals and thought with an intensity he had never known before.
He had made his decision—the decision on which the fate of the Galaxy hung.
20
CONCLUSION
1.
Mayor Harla Branno had every reason for satisfaction. The state visit had not lasted long, but it had been thoroughly productive.
She said, as though in deliberate attempt to avoid hubris, “We can’t, of course, trust them completely.”
She was watching the screen. The ships of the Fleet were, one by one, entering hyperspace and returning to their normal stations.
There was no question but that Sayshell had been impressed by their presence, but they could not have failed to notice two things: one, that the ships had remained in Foundation space at all times; two, that once Branno had indicated they would leave, they were indeed leaving with celerity.
On the other hand, Sayshell would not forget either that those ships could be recalled to the border at a day’s notice—or less. It was a maneuver that had combined both a demonstration of power and a demonstration of goodwill.
Kodell said, “Quite right, we can’t trust them completely, but then no one in the Galaxy can be trusted completely and it is in the self-interest of Sayshell to observe the terms of the agreement. We have been generous.”
Branno said, “A lot will depend on working out the details and I predict that will take months. The general brushstrokes can be accepted in a moment, but then come the shadings: just how we arrange for quarantine of imports and exports, how we weigh the value of their grain and cattle compared to ours, and so on.”
“I know, but it will be done eventually and the credit will be yours, Mayor. It was a bold stroke and one, I admit, whose wisdom I doubted.”
“Come, Liono. It was just a matter of the Foundation recognizing Sayshellian pride. They’ve retained a certain independence since early Imperial times. It’s to be admired, actually.”
“Yes, now that it will no longer inconvenience us.”
“Exactly, so it was only necessary to bend our own pride to the p
oint of making some sort of gesture to theirs. I admit it took an effort to decide that I, as Mayor of a Galaxy-straddling Federation, should condescend to visit a provincial star-grouping, but once the decision was made it didn’t hurt too much. And it pleased them. We had to gamble that they would agree to the visit once we moved our ships to the border, but it meant being humble and smiling very broadly.”
Kodell nodded. “We abandoned the appearance of power to preserve the essence of it.”
“Exactly. —Who first said that?”
“I believe it was in one of Eriden’s plays, but I’m not sure. We can ask one of our literary lights back home.”
“If I remember. We must speed the return visit of Sayshellians to Terminus and see to it that they are given the full treatment as equals. And I’m afraid, Liono, you will have to organize tight security for them. There is bound to be some indignation among our hotheads and it would not be wise to subject them to even slight and transient humiliation through protest demonstrations.”
“Absolutely,” said Kodell. “It was a clever stroke, by the way, sending out Trevize.”
“My lightning rod? He worked better than I thought he would, to be honest. He blundered his way into Sayshell and drew their lightning in the form of protests with a speed I could not have believed. Space! What an excellent excuse that made for my visit—concern lest a Foundation national be in any way disturbed and then gratitude for their forbearance.”
“Shrewd! —You don’t think it would have been better, though, to have brought Trevize back with us?”
“No. On the whole, I prefer him anywhere but at home. He would be a disturbing factor on Terminus. His nonsense about the Second Foundation served as the perfect excuse for sending him out and, of course, we counted on Pelorat to lead him to Sayshell, but I don’t want him back, continuing to spread the nonsense. We can never tell what that might lead to.”
Kodell chuckled. “I doubt that we can ever find anyone more gullible than an intellectual academic. I wonder how much Pelorat would have swallowed if we had encouraged him.”
“Belief in the literal existence of the mythical Sayshellian Gaia was quite enough—but forget it. We will have to face the Council when we return and we will need their votes for the Sayshellian treaty. Fortunately we have Trevize’s statement—voiceprint and all—to the effect that he left Terminus voluntarily. I will offer official regrets as to Trevize’s brief arrest and that will satisfy the Council.”
“I can rely on you for the soft soap, Mayor,” said Kodell dryly. “Have you considered, though, that Trevize may continue to search for the Second Foundation?”
“Let him,” said Branno, shrugging, “as long as he doesn’t do it on Terminus. It will keep him busy and get him nowhere. The Second Foundation’s continued existence is our myth of the century, as Gaia is Sayshell’s myth.”
She leaned back and looked positively genial. “And now we have Sayshell in our grip—and by the time they see that, it will be too late for them to break the grip. So the Foundation’s growth continues and will continue, smoothly and regularly.”
“And the credit will be entirely yours, Mayor.”
“That has not escaped my notice,” said Branno, and their ship slipped into hyperspace and reappeared in the neighborhood space of Terminus.
2.
Speaker Stor Gendibal, on his own ship again, had every reason for satisfaction. The encounter with the First Foundation had not lasted long, but it had been thoroughly productive.
He had sent back his message of carefully muted triumph. It was only necessary—for the moment—to let the First Speaker know that all had gone well (as, indeed, he might guess from the fact that the general force of the Second Foundation had never had to be used after all). The details could come later on.
He would describe how a careful—and very minor—adjustment to Mayor Branno’s mind had turned her thoughts from imperialistic grandiosity to the practicality of commercial treaty; how a careful—and rather long-distance—adjustment of the leader of the Sayshell Union had led to an invitation to the Mayor of a parley and how, thereafter, a rapprochement had been reached with no further adjustments at all with Compor returning to Terminus on his own ship, to see that the agreement would be kept. It had been, Gendibal thought complacently, almost a storybook example of large results brought about by minutely crafted mentalics.
It would, he was sure, squash Speaker Delarmi flat and bring about his own elevation to First Speaker very soon after the presentation of the details at a formal meeting of the Table.
And he did not deny to himself the importance of Sura Novi’s presence, though that would not need to be stressed to the Speakers generally. Not only had she been essential to his victory, but she gave him the excuse he now needed for indulging his childish (and very human, for even Speakers are very human) need to exult before what he knew to be a guaranteed admiration.
She did not understand anything that had happened, he knew, but she was aware that he had arranged matters to his liking and she was bursting with pride over that. He caressed the smoothness of her mind and felt the warmth of that pride.
He said, “I could not have done it without you, Novi. It was because of you I could tell that the First Foundation—the people on the large ship—”
“Yes, Master, I know whom you mean.”
“I could tell, because of you, that they had a shield, together with weak powers of the mind. From the effect on your mind, I could tell, exactly, the characteristics of both. I could tell how most efficiently to penetrate the one and deflect the other.”
Novi said tentatively, “I do not understand exactly what it is you say, Master, but I would have done much more to help, if I could.”
“I know that, Novi. But what you did was enough. It is amazing how dangerous they might have been. But caught now, before either their shield or their field had been developed more strongly, they could be stopped. The Mayor goes back now, the shield and the field forgotten, satisfied over the fact that she has obtained a commercial treaty with Sayshell that will make it a working part of the Federation. I don’t deny that there is much more to do to dismantle the work they have done on shield and field—it is something concerning which we have been remiss—but it will be done.”
He brooded about the matter and went on in a lower voice, “We took far too much for granted with the First Foundation. We must place them under closer supervision. We must knit the Galaxy closer together somehow. We must make use of mentalics to build a closer co-operation of consciousness. That would fit the Plan. I’m convinced of that and I’ll see to it.”
Novi said anxiously, “Master?”
Gendibal smiled suddenly. “I’m sorry. I’m talking to myself. —Novi, do you remember Rufirant?”
“That bone-skulled farmer who attacked you? I should say I do.”
“I’m convinced that First Foundation agents, armed with personal shields, arranged that, together with all the other anomalies that have plagued us. Imagine being blind to a thing like that. But then, I was bemused into overlooking the First Foundation altogether by this myth of a mysterious world, this Sayshellian superstition concerning Gaia. There, too, your mind came in handy. It helped me determine that the source of that mentalic field was the warship and nothing else.”
He rubbed his hands.
Novi said timidly, “Master?”
“Yes, Novi?”
“Will you not be rewarded for what you have done?”
“Indeed I will. Shandess will retire and I will be First Speaker. Then will come my chance to make us an active factor in revolutionizing the Galaxy.”
“First Speaker?”
“Yes, Novi. I will be the most important and the most powerful scholar of them all.”
“The most important?” She looked woebegone.
“Why do you make a face, Novi? Don’t you want me to be rewarded?”
“Yes, Master, I do. —But if you are the most important scholar of them all, you
will not want a Hamish-woman near you. It would not be fitting.”
“Won’t I, though? Who will stop me?” He felt a gush of affection for her. “Novi, will you stay with me wherever I go and whatever I am. Do you think I would risk dealing with some of the wolves we occasionally have at the Table without your mind always there to tell me, even before they know themselves, what their emotions might be—your own innocent, absolutely smooth mind. Besides—” He seemed startled by a sudden revelation. “Even aside from that, I—I like having you with me and I intend having you with me. —That is, if you are willing.”
“Oh, Master,” whispered Novi and, as his arm moved around her waist, her head sank to his shoulder.
Deep within, where the enveloping mind of Novi could scarcely be aware of it, the essence of Gaia remained and guided events, but it was that impenetrable mask that made the continuance of the great task possible.
And that mask—the one that belonged to a Hamish-woman—was completely happy. It was so happy that Novi was almost reconciled for the distance she was from herself / them / all, and she was content to be, for the indefinite future, what she seemed to be.
3.
Pelorat rubbed his hands and said, with carefully controlled enthusiasm, “How glad I am to be back on Gaia.”
“Umm,” said Trevize abstractedly.
“You know what Bliss has told me? The Mayor is going back to Terminus with a commercial treaty with Sayshell. The Speaker from the Second Foundation is going back to Trantor convinced that he has arranged it—and that woman, Novi, is going back with him to see to it that the changes that will bring about Galaxia are initiated. And neither Foundation is in the least aware that Gaia exists. It’s absolutely amazing.”
“I know,” said Trevize. “I was told all this, too. But we know that Gaia exists and we can talk.”
“Bliss doesn’t think so. She says no one would believe us, and we would know that. Besides, I, for one, have no intention of ever leaving Gaia.”
