Foundation's Triumph

by David Brin

  Horis Antic had asked to be excused--ostensibly to pursue his research--though Hari knew the real reason. The. glowing “space-time anomaly” terrified Horis. But Gornon did not want to leave anyone behind in camp, so Antic shuffled along, just behind the prisoner Mors Planch. Even the survivors of the Ktlina renaissance accompanied the procession, though Sybyl and the others seemed hardly aware of anything except a raucous murmur of voices in their own heads.

  As they approached the anomaly, draped in scaffolding, Hari saw the rounded outline of the sarcophagus slide past each of the ancient cities in turn.

  First, Old Chicago, with its battered skyscrapers still aiming adventurously toward the sky, recalling an age of openness and unfettered ambition. Next to vanish was New Chicago, that monstrous fortress where so many millions sealed themselves away from daylight, and a terror they could not understand. Finally, little Chica disappeared--the white porcelain village where Earth’s final civilization struggled in vain against irrelevance, in a galaxy that simply did not care about its origins anymore.

  Rounding a bend in the ancient university campus, they came to a point where the crack could be seen...splitting open thick walls that had been meant to seal away something dire. To entomb it forever. Hari glanced to his left, toward R. Gornon.

  “If this anomaly truly gives you access to the fourth dimension, why hasn’t it been used during all of these centuries? Why did no one attempt to change the past?”

  The robot shook its head. “Travel into the past is impossible, on many different levels, Dr. Seldon. Anyway, even if you could change the past, that would only create a new future in which someone else will be discontented. Those people, in turn, would send emissaries to change their past, and so on. No time track would have any more valid claim to reality than any other.”

  “Then perhaps none of this matters,” Hari mused. “We all may be just parallel mirror images...or else little simulations, like the numbers we juggle in the Prime Radiant. Temporary. Ghosts who only exist while someone else is thinking about them.”

  Hari had not been looking where he was going. His left foot snagged on some patch of uneven ground, and he started to pitch forward...but was caught by R. Gornon’s gentle, firm grasp. Even so, Hari’s body felt quakes of pain and fatigue. He missed his nurse, Kers Kantun, and the wheelchair he once hated. At one level, Hari could tell he was dying, as he had been sliding toward death for several years.

  “I’m not in great condition for so long a journey,” he murmured, while his companions waited for him to recover.

  “The one other human who traveled this way was also an old man,” Gornon assured Hari. “Tests show that the process is gentle, or else we would never risk harming you. And when you arrive, someone will be waiting.”

  “I see. Still I wonder...”

  “About what, Professor?”

  “You have great powers of medical science available to you. Breakthroughs and techniques that robots have hoarded for millennia. These cyborgs”--he jerked a thumb toward Zorma and Cloudia--”appear able to duplicate bodies and extend life indefinitely. So I wonder why you didn’t boost my physical health, at least a bit more, before I made this journey.”

  “It’s not allowed, Professor. There are strong reasons, moral, ethical, and--”

  Harsh laughter interrupted, coming from the robot called Zorma.

  “Except when it suits your purposes! You should give Seldon a better answer than that, Gornon.”

  After a pause, Gornon said in a low voice, “We no longer have the organoforming apparatus. It was taken away at Pengia. The device was needed elsewhere to continue an important project...and that is all I will say about it.”

  They resumed walking until the glow emanating from the cracked tomb filled the night just overhead, casting spiderweb shadows from the scaffolding across the ruined university. Most of the Earthlings and other onlookers climbed nearby rubble mounds to watch, while Hari and Gornon led a diminished procession onto a broad wooden platform that began rising on creaking ropes, hauling a dozen of them upward.

  As Hari and his entourage ascended, he commented to Gornon, “It occurs to me that you may be going to a lot of unnecessary trouble. There’s another way of sending a person into the future, you know.”

  This time, the robot did not answer. Instead, Gornon steadied Hari with an arm around his shoulders as the makeshift elevator reached its destination with a rattling bump. Hari had to shade his eyes against the glare pouring from within the broken containment shell.

  To the awed murmurs of his guests, Gornon gave an explanation that was both poignant and brief.

  “It began with a simple, well-meaning experiment, during the same brash era when humans were inventing both robots and hyperdrive. The researchers here had an incredible hunch and acted on it impulsively. Suddenly, a beam of fractured space-time shot forth, snaring a passing pedestrian, yanking Joseph Schwartz out of his normal life and hurling him forward ten thousand years.

  “For Schwartz, a great adventure ensued. But back in the Chicago he left behind, a nightmare had just begun.” Hari watched the robot’s face, looking for the complex expressions of emotion that Dors and Daneel simulated so well. But this artificial man was grimly stoic.

  “You sound as if you were there, when it happened.”

  “Not I, but an early-model robot was. One whose memories I inherited. Those memories aren’t pleasant. Some of us believe this event marked the beginning of the end for humanity’s great time of youthful exuberance. Not long thereafter, amid international recriminations, the first waves of unreason began. Robots were banished from Earth. Acrimony built between nations and the colonial worlds, There were outbreaks of biological warfare. Some of us swore...”

  Hari suddenly had a wild hunch.

  “You stayed here, didn’t you? That agent of Daneel’s whom you mentioned earlier--the one who helped stop the Earthlings from spreading a new plague--was that you?”

  R. Gornon paused, then gave a jerky nod.

  “Then Zorma is right. You’re no Calvinian after all.”

  “I suppose I no longer fit any of the rigid classifications, though at one time I was a fervent follower of Giskardianism.”

  Now the robot’s impassive mask broke. Like that of any stoic man, whose equanimity was shattered by the most powerful emotion--hope.

  “Time affects even immortals, Or. Seldon. Many of us tired old robots don’t know what we are anymore. Perhaps that is something you will be able to tell us, when you have had a chance to reflect. In time.”

  And so I come to the moment of decision, Hari acknowledged, still shading his eyes and peering toward the harsh light. Of course it would be anticlimactic to back out now. Everyone was watching. Even those, like Wanda, who disapproved of this whole plan, would surely be disappointed at some level...to be promised a spectacular show and have the star performer withdraw at the last minute. On the other hand, Hari had built a reputation of doing the unexpected. There was almost a delicious attraction to the notion of surprising all these people.

  Several members of the group edged close to the opal light, peering inside. Biron Maserd pointed at the crumbling building, no doubt an ancient physics lab where the original mistake was made. The headman of the Earthling tribe stood next to Maserd, nodding. Even Wanda approached out of curiosity, though Horis Antic kept his distance, chewing ragged fingernails.

  Mors Planch shuffled forward, lifting his manacled hands.

  “Take these off of me, Seldon, I entreat you. These robots...they all revere you. Perhaps I was wrong. Let me prove my worth to you, before you go. I have some information...the whereabouts of somebody precious to you. Someone you have been searching for, across many years.”

  Hari abruptly realized what Planch was driving at.

  Bellis!

  He took a step toward the pirate captain. “You found my other granddaughter?”

  On hearing this, Wanda Seldon turned her attention fully away from the sarcophagus.
She, too, stepped closer to Planch.

  “Where is she? What has happened to my sister?”

  R. Gornon interrupted. “I am very sorry, but you should have discussed this earlier. There is no more time. At any moment, the field will expand. We have managed to transform the beam into a circular field, but we cannot be certain how long it will--”

  Another figure stepped closer to Hari. The headman of the Earthling tribe. Though his accent was still quaint and thick, Hari found his speech understandable.

  “There ees still time for families to settle their affeers. Please goh on, sir.” The lanky Terran nodded at Mors Planch.

  Hari felt a twinge of irritation, for this was really none of the Earthling’s business, but Gornon cut in first, glowering at the Earther.

  “What do you know of such matters? It is time to prepare! Note how the luminance grows brighter even as we speak.”

  Through the crack in the sarcophagus, Hari saw that the glow was indeed more intense. Biron Maserd stepped back from the forward edge of the platform and gestured within.

  “There is something expanding outward from that building! Like a sphere made of some liquid metal. It’s coming closer!”

  “Are we safe standing here?” Horis Antic asked nervously.

  R. Gornon replied, “It has never expanded beyond the boundaries of the sarcophagus. It will not touch those standing on the platform.”

  “And what about Hari Seldon?” asked the cyborg robot, Zorma. “Will it be safe for him to enter that thing?”

  Gornon let out a sigh of emulated frustration.

  “We’ve performed calibration experiments for the last thousand years. Professor Seldon will experience a gentle, instantaneous transition to the chosen future era--a time just a few centuries from now, when decisions must be made that will affect all of human destiny.”

  Mors Planch murmured--”A few centuries...” Then he took a step toward Hari. “Well, Professor Seldon. Do we have a deal?”

  Hari glanced at Wanda, hoping for a nod, but instead she shook her head.

  “I cannot read the secret in his mind, Grandfather. There is something complex about his brain. Recall how hard I fought yesterday, just to keep him standing still? Still, I’m sure we’ll find out where he’s hidden Bellis. It will just take time, working on him in private.”

  Hari didn’t like the last part of her statement.

  Perhaps striking a deal would be better. I could depart this world with a clear conscience.

  Before Hari could speak, however, Planch let out a roar. He raised both manacled hands and charged.

  Swift as lightning, R. Gornon Vlimt grabbed Hari and swung him out of the way. But in that blurred instant, Hari realized that he was not the pirate captain’s target. By seeming to attack Hari, Planch kept Gornon busy in reflex protective mode, clearing the way for his real goal.

  Mors Planch took four rapid steps toward Biron Maserd, standing at the platform’s edge. The nobleman tensed, preparing to fight--then, in an instant’s realization, he hopped nimbly out of the way.

  Screaming a cry filled with both fear and exultation, Planch leaped off the parapet into the opal light. Hurtling across empty space, his body collided with a slowly expanding sphere that rippled like liquid mercury...and vanished within.

  As Hari stared, the mirror ball kept expanding, inexorably approaching the place where he stood. No one spoke until Gornon Vlimt commented with an impassive voice, “We shall have to be certain he is greeted with compassion, in five centuries’ time. By that point, he will not be able to alter destiny, but we must make sure he doesn’t harm Professor Seldon when he emerges on the other side.”

  Hari felt a wash of emotions--admiration for the spacer captain’s courage, plus despair over having lost a clue to his other granddaughter’s whereabouts. R. Gornon’s stoic pragmatism aside, Hari looked at the expanding space-time anomaly with growing dread.

  The next person to speak was the Earthling headman. This time his accent was softer, easier to understand.

  “It is true that someone must be waiting here on Earth to greet Mors Planch, but we needn’t fear for the safety of Hari Seldon.”

  “And why is that?” asked Cloudia, the cyborg who had begun life as a human woman.

  “Because Hari Seldon is not taking this journey. Not tonight. Not ever. “

  Now everyone focused their complete attention on the Earthling, who stood up taller, erasing the stooped posture that most Terrans manifested. Wanda stared at the lanky man, then gasped a cry of realization. Zorma was next to react, uttering an oath.

  Lacking mentalic powers, Hari was slower to catch on. Still, he found something familiar about the headman’s voice tones, and the way he now held himself--resembling Prometheus, whose laborious agonies never ended.

  Hari whispered a single word, “ Daneel. “

  R. Gornon Vlimt nodded, his face as impassive as ever.

  “Olivaw. You have been here quite some time, I presume?”

  The robot who had disguised himself as an Earthling nodded.

  “Of course, I’ve long known about the experiments your group was performing here. I could not destroy the time anomaly, but we’ve been monitoring the locale. I arranged years ago to become a figure of importance to the local Earthling tribes, who respond enthusiastically to my influence. When they reported fresh activity at this site, I combined that with tales of Hari’s abduction and reached the obvious conclusion.”

  Daneel Olivaw turned to Hari.

  “I am sorry, old friend. You’ve gone through terrible trials, at a time when you should relax, in peaceful knowledge of your accomplishments. I would have been here sooner, and hoped to catch up with you on Pengia. But there were sudden problems with some of the Calvinian sects, renewing their fight for the pure old religion, who want to destroy the Seldon Plan at all costs. Defeating them took some time. I hope you will forgive the delay.”

  Forgive? Hari wondered what there was to forgive. True, he had been used. By Giskardians and Calvinians, and Ktlinans...and by several other factions, both human and robotic. Yet, in adamant honesty, he confessed to himself that the last few weeks had been more fun than anything else that happened in his life since he became important to galactic affairs. Since before he ever became First Minister of the Empire...back when he and Dors were young adventurers inserting their thoughts into the minds of primitive creatures, living the wild and free lives of chimpanzees.

  “That’s all right, Daneel. I figured all along that you would show up and spare me the angst of making this decision.”

  “I appeal to you, Olivaw,” said R. Gornon Vlimt. “As one whom you trusted for so many millennia, please allow us to continue tonight’s work.”

  Daneel made eye contact with Gornon.

  “You know that I honor the memories of our comradeship. I recall innumerable battles we fought, side by side, during the robotic civil wars. The Zeroth Law never had a stronger champion than you.”

  “Then cannot you believe that I’m doing all of this for humanity’s long-range good?”

  “I can, indeed,” Daneel replied. “But centuries ago, we disagreed over what that long-range good should be. With matters at a critical juncture, I cannot let you interfere.”

  This brought a reaction from Hari.

  “What interference, Daneel? Everything occurred to your benefit. Take the ancient archives and the terraforming machines--you sensed they might pose a danger, after the old empire collapses. During the age that follows, they might be discovered at random and destabilize the planned transition. You already decided to destroy them, under the Zeroth Law. But some of your compatriots were uncomfortable with the positronic dissonance that caused. By giving my permission, I made it easier for your followers to act.” He glanced at Wanda, and saw her shiver briefly at his mention of the archives. She, too, understood how dangerous they were. How they had to be destroyed.

  “And when the agents of chaos found us there, in the nebula--” Hari continued,
“--Planch said it was because of some unknown informant aboard our ship, who told them where to find us. But I’m guessing it might have been you, Daneel, using the lure of the archives to draw all the Ktlina agents toward one place, eliminating the threat posed by this century’s worst chaos world.”

  Daneel made an expressive shrug. “I cannot claim credit for that coup, though I admit it was helpful.” He then turned to look at Biron Maserd, the tall nobleman from Rhodia. “Well, my young friend? Were you the agent that Mors Planch spoke of?”

  Hari wondered why Daneel, with the greatest mentalic powers in the galaxy, didn’t simply read Maserd’s mind.

  Olivaw turned back to Hari.

  “I do not invade his mind because we have an ancient agreement, a compact between Lord Maserd’s family and myself. They were relentless and incredibly clever in their attempts to fight the necessary amnesia.”

  Maserd responded, “And we agreed to stop doing so, in exchange for being left alone. Our small galactic province has been run a little differently than the rest of the empire. We were free to fight chaos in our own way.”

  Daneel agreed. “But it seems our ancient agreement has been broken.”

  “No!”

  “You already conceded that you’ve communicated with this group.” Daneel aimed a finger at the cyborgs, Cloudia and Zorma.

  “We Maserds are permitted to discuss anything among ourselves,” Biron answered. He nodded toward the pale-haired cyborg. “Cloudia Duma-Hinriad is my great-great-grandmother. “

  Daneel smiled. “Very clever, but the Zeroth Law won’t allow me to accept that attempt to evade our agreement. Not if it might imperil humanity’s long-term salvation.”

  “And of course you are the one to determine what form that salvation shall take?” R. Gornon asked, in a voice that resonated, both desperate and sarcastic.

  “That has been my burden ever since blessed Giskard and I discovered the Zeroth Law.”

  “And look at what it has cost.” R. Gornon gestured toward the glowing radioactive ruins. “Your great Galactic Empire kept the peace and staved off chaos, by eliminating diversity! Humanity must shun whatever is alien or strange, whether it comes from within or from the outside.”