Foundation's Edge

  “I am not tired,” said Gendibal. “At the present moment, neither of you is capable of giving any order to any member of the crew of your ship or to any crewman on any other ship. I can manage so much without any harm to you, but do not make any unusual effort to escape this control, for if I match that by increasing my own force, as I will have to do, you will be damaged as I have said.”

  “I will wait,” said Branno, placing her hands in her lap with every sign of solid patience. “You will tire and when you do, the orders that will go out will not be to destroy you, for you will then be harmless. The orders will be to send the main Foundation Fleet against Trantor. If you wish to save your world—surrender. A second orgy of destruction will not leave your organization untouched, as the first one did at the time of the Great Sack.”

  “Don’t you see that if I feel myself tiring, Mayor, which I won’t, I can save my world very simply by destroying you before my strength to do so is gone?”

  “You won’t do that. Your main task is to maintain the Seldon Plan. To destroy the Mayor of Terminus and thus to strike a blow at the prestige and confidence of the First Foundation, producing a staggering setback to its power and encouraging its enemies everywhere, will produce such a disruption to the Plan that it will be almost as bad for you as the destruction of Trantor. You might as well surrender.”

  “Are you willing to gamble on my reluctance to destroy you?”

  Branno’s chest heaved as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She then said firmly, “Yes!”

  Kodell, sitting at her side, paled.

  6.

  GENDIBAL STARED AT THE FIGURE OF BRANNO, superimposed upon the volume of room just in front of the wall. It was a little flickery and hazy thanks to the interference of the shield. The man next to her was almost featureless with haze, for Gendibal had no energy to waste on him. He had to concentrate on the Mayor.

  To be sure, she had no image of him in return. She had no way of knowing that he too had a companion, for instance. She could make no judgment from his expressions, from his body language. In this respect, she was at a disadvantage.

  Everything he had said was true. He could smash her at the cost of an enormous expenditure of mentalic force—and in so doing, he could scarcely avoid disrupting her mind irreparably.

  Yet everything she had said was true as well. Destroying her would damage the Plan as much as the Mule himself had damaged it. Indeed, the new damage might be more serious, since it was now later in the game and there would be less time to retrieve the misstep.

  Worse still, there was Gaia, which was still an unknown quantity—with its mentalic field remaining at the faint and tantalizing edge of detection.

  For a moment, he touched Novi’s mind to make sure that the flow was still there. It was, and it was unchanged.

  She could not have sensed that touch in any way, but she turned to him and in an awed whisper said, “Master, there is a faint mist there. Is it to that you talk?”

  She must have sensed the mist through the small connection between their two minds. Gendibal put a finger to his lips. “Have no fear, Novi. Close your eyes and rest.”

  He raised his voice. “Mayor Branno, your gamble is a good one in this respect. I do not wish to destroy you at once, since I think that if I explain something to you, you will listen to reason and there will then be no need to destroy in either direction.

  “Suppose, Mayor, that you win out and that I surrender. What follows? In an orgy of self-confidence and in undue reliance on your mentalic shield, you and your successors will attempt to spread your power over the Galaxy with undue haste. In doing so, you will actually postpone the establishment of the Second Empire, because you will also destroy the Seldon Plan.”

  Branno said, “I am not surprised that you do not wish to destroy me at once and I think that, as you sit there, you will be forced to realize that you do not dare to destroy me at all.”

  Gendibal said, “Do not deceive yourself with self-congratulatory folly. Listen to me. The majority of the Galaxy is still non-Foundation and, to a great extent, anti-Foundation. There are even portions of the Foundation Federation itself that have not forgotten their days of independence. If the Foundation moves too quickly in the wake of my surrender, it will deprive the rest of the Galaxy of its greatest weakness—its disunity and indecision. You will force them to unite by fear and you will feed the tendency toward rebellion within.”

  “You are threatening with clubs of straw,” said Branno. “We have the power to win easily against all enemies, even if every world in the non-Foundation Galaxy combined against us, and even if these were helped by a rebellion in half the worlds of the Federation itself. There would be no problem.”

  “No immediate problem, Mayor. Do not make the mistake of seeing only the results that appear at once. You can establish a Second Empire merely by proclaiming it, but you will not be able to maintain it. You will have to reconquer it every ten years.”

  “Then we will do so until the worlds tire, as you are tiring.”

  “They will not tire, any more than I will. Nor will the process continue for a very long time, for there is a second and greater danger to the Pseudo-Empire you would proclaim. Since it can be temporarily maintained only by an ever-stronger military force which will be ever-exercised, the generals of the Foundation will, for the first time, become more important and more powerful than the civilian authorities. The Pseudo-Empire will break up into military regions within which individual commanders will be supreme. There will be anarchy—and a slide back into a barbarism that may last longer than the thirty thousand years forecast by Seldon before the Seldon Plan was implemented.”

  “Childish threats. Even if the mathematics of the Seldon Plan predicted all this, it predicts only probabilities—not inevitabilities.”

  “Mayor Branno,” said Gendibal earnestly. “Forget the Seldon Plan. You do not understand its mathematics and you cannot visualize its pattern. But you do not have to, perhaps. You are a tested politician; and a successful one, to judge from the post you hold; even more so, a courageous one, to judge from the gamble you are now taking. Therefore, use your political acumen. Consider the political and military history of humanity and consider it in the light of what you know of human nature—of the manner in which people, politicians, and military officers act, react, and interact—and see if I’m not right.”

  Branno said, “Even if you were right, Second Foundationer, it is a risk we must take. With proper leadership and with continuing technological advance—in mentalics, as well as in physics—we can overcome. Hari Seldon never calculated such advances properly. He couldn’t. Where in the Plan does it allow for the development of a mentalic shield by the First Foundation? Why should we want the Plan, in any case? We will risk founding a new Empire without it. Failure without it would, after all, be better than success with it. We do not want an Empire in which we play puppets to the hidden manipulators of the Second Foundation.”

  “You say that only because you do not understand what failure will be like for the people of the Galaxy.”

  “Perhaps!” said Branno stonily. “Are you beginning to weary, Second Foundationer?”

  “Not at all. —Let me propose an alternative action that you have not considered—one in which I need not surrender to you, nor you to me. —We are in the vicinity of a planet called Gaia.”

  “I am aware of that.”

  “Are you aware that it is probably the birthplace of the Mule?”

  “I would want more evidence than resides in your mere statement to that effect.”

  “The planet is surrounded by a mentalic field. It is the home of many Mules. If you accomplish your dream of destroying the Second Foundation, you will make yourselves the slaves of this planet of Mules. What harm have Second Foundationers ever done you—specific, rather than imagined or theorized harm? Now ask yourself what harm a single Mule has done you.”

  “I still have nothing more than your statements.”
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  “As long as we remain here, I can give you nothing more. —I propose a truce, therefore. Keep your shield up, if you don’t trust me, but be prepared to co-operate with me. Let us, together, approach this planet—and when you are convinced that it is dangerous, then I will nullify its mentalic field and you will order your ships to take possession of it.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, at least, it will be the First Foundation against the Second Foundation, with no outside forces to be considered. The fight will then be clear whereas now, you see, we dare not fight, for both Foundations are at bay.”

  “Why did you not say this before?”

  “I thought I might convince you that we were not enemies, so that we might co-operate. Since I have apparently failed at that, I suggest co-operation in any case.”

  Branno paused, her head bent in thought. Then she said, “You are trying to put me to sleep with lullabies. How will you, by yourself, nullify the mentalic field of a whole planet of Mules? The thought is so ludicrous that I cannot trust in the truth of your proposition.”

  “I am not alone,” said Gendibal. “Behind me is the full force of the Second Foundation—and that force, channeled through me, will take care of Gaia. What’s more, it can, at any time, brush aside your shield as though it were thin fog.”

  “If so, why do you need my help?”

  “First, because nullifying the field is not enough. The Second Foundation cannot devote itself, now and forever, to the eternal task of nullifying, any more than I can spend the rest of my life dancing this conversational minuet with you. We need the physical action your ships can supply. —And besides, if I cannot convince you by reason that the two Foundations should look upon each other as allies, perhaps a co-operative venture of the greatest importance can be convincing. Deeds may do the job where words fail.”

  A second silence and then Branno said, “I am willing to approach Gaia more closely, if we can approach co-operatively. I make no promises beyond that.”

  “That will be enough,” said Gendibal, leaning toward his computer.

  Novi said, “No, Master, up to this point, it didn’t matter, but please make no further move. We must wait for Councilman Trevize of Terminus.”

  19

  DECISION

  1.

  JANOV PELORAT SAID, WITH A SMALL TRACE OF petulance in his voice, “Really, Golan, no one seems to care for the fact that this is the first time in a moderately long life—not too long, I assure you, Bliss—in which I have been traveling through the Galaxy. Yet each time I come to a world, I am off it again and back in space before I can really have a chance to study it. It has happened twice now.”

  “Yes,” said Bliss, “but if you had not left the other one so quickly, you would not have met me until who knows when. Surely that justifies the first time.”

  “It does. Honestly, my—my dear, it does.”

  “And this time, Pel, you may be off the planet, but you have me—and I am Gaia, as much as any particle of it, as much as all of it.”

  “You are, and surely I want no other particle of it.”

  Trevize, who had been listening to the exchange with a frown, said, “This is disgusting. Why didn’t Dom come with us? —Space, I’ll never get used to this monosyllabization. Two hundred fifty syllables to a name and we use just one of them. —Why didn’t he come, together with all two hundred fifty syllables? If all this is so important—if the very existence of Gaia depends on it—why didn’t he come with us to direct us?”

  “I am here, Trev,” said Bliss, “and I am as much Gaia as he is.” Then, with a quick sideways and upward look from her dark eyes, “Does it annoy you, then, to have me call you ‘Trev?’ ”

  “Yes, it does. I have as much right to my ways as you to yours. My name is Trevize. Two syllables. Trevize.”

  “Gladly. I do not wish to anger you, Trevize.”

  “I am not angry. I am annoyed.” He rose suddenly, walked from one end of the room to the other, stepping over the outstretched legs of Pelorat (who drew them in quickly), and then back again. He stopped, turned, and faced Bliss.

  He pointed a finger at her. “Look! I am not my own master! I have been maneuvered from Terminus to Gaia—and even when I began to suspect that this was so, there seemed no way to break the grip. And then, when I get to Gaia, I am told the whole purpose for my arrival was to save Gaia. Why? How? What is Gaia to me—or I to Gaia—that I should save it? Is there no other of the quintillion human beings in the Galaxy who could do the job?”

  “Please, Trevize,” said Bliss—and there was a sudden downcast air about her, all of the gamine affectation disappearing. “Do not be angry. You see, I use your name properly and I will be very serious. Dom asked you to be patient.”

  “By every planet in the Galaxy, habitable or not, I don’t want to be patient. If I am so important, do I not deserve an explanation? To begin with, I ask again why Dom did not come with us? Is it not sufficiently important for him to be here on the Far Star with us?”

  “He is here, Trevize,” said Bliss. “While I am here, he is here, and everyone on Gaia is here, and every living thing, and every speck of the planet.”

  “You are satisfied that that is so, but it’s not my way of thinking. I’m not Gaian. We can’t squeeze the whole planet on to my ship, we can only squeeze one person on to it. We have you, and Dom is part of you. Very well. Why couldn’t we have taken Dom, and let you be part of him?”

  “For one thing,” said Bliss, “Pel—I mean, Pel-o-rat—asked that I be on the ship with you. I, not Dom.”

  “He was being gallant. Who would take that seriously?”

  “Oh, now, my dear fellow,” said Pelorat, rising to his feet with his face reddening, “I was quite serious. I don’t want to be dismissed like that. I accept the fact that it doesn’t matter which component of the Gaian whole is on board, and it is more pleasant for me to have Bliss here than Dom, and it should be for you as well. Come, Golan, you are behaving childishly.”

  “Am I? Am I?” said Trevize, frowning darkly. “All right, then, I am. Just the same,” again he pointed at Bliss, “whatever it is I am expected to do, I assure you that I won’t do it if I am not treated like a human being. Two questions to begin with—What am I supposed to do? And why me?”

  Bliss was wide-eyed and backing away. She said, “Please, I can’t tell you that now. All of Gaia can’t tell you. You must come to the place without knowing anything to begin with. You must learn it all there. You must then do what you must do—but you must do it calmly and unemotionally. If you remain as you are, nothing will be of use and, one way or another, Gaia will come to an end. You must change this feeling of yours and I do not know how to change it.”

  “Would Dom know if he were here?” said Trevize remorselessly.

  “Dom is here,” said Bliss. “He / I / we do not know how to change you or calm you. We do not understand a human being who cannot sense his place in the scheme of things, who does not feel like part of a greater whole.”

  Trevize said, “That is not so. You could seize my ship at a distance of a million kilometers and more—and keep us calm while we were helpless. Well, calm me now. Don’t pretend you are not capable of doing it.”

  “But we mustn’t. Not now. If we changed you or adjusted you in any way now, then you would be no more valuable to us than any other person in the Galaxy and we could not use you. We can only use you because you are you—and you must remain you. If we touch you at this moment in any way, we are lost. Please. You must be calm of your own accord.”

  “Not a chance, miss, unless you tell me some of what I want to know.”

  Pelorat said, “Bliss, let me try. Please go into the other room.”

  Bliss left, backing slowly out. Pelorat closed the door behind her.

  Trevize said, “She can hear and see—sense everything. What difference does this make?”

  Pelorat said, “It makes a difference to me. I want to be alone with you, even if isolat
ion is an illusion. —Golan, you’re afraid.”

  “Don’t be a fool.”

  “Of course you are. You don’t know where you’re going, what you’ll be facing, what you’ll be expected to do. You have a right to be afraid.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. Perhaps you’re not afraid of physical danger in the way that I am. I’ve been afraid of venturing out into space, afraid of each new world I see, afraid of every new thing I encounter. After all, I’ve lived half a century of a constricted, withdrawn and limited life, while you have been in the Navy and in politics, in the thick and hurly-burly at home and in space. Yet I’ve tried not to be afraid and you’ve helped me. In this time that we’ve been together, you’ve been patient with me, you’ve been kind to me and understanding, and because of you, I’ve managed to master my fears and behave well. Let me, then, return the favor and help you.”

  “I’m not afraid, I tell you.”

  “Of course you are. If nothing else, you’re afraid of the responsibility you’ll be facing. Apparently there’s a whole world depending on you—and you will therefore have to live with the destruction of a whole world if you fail. Why should you have to face that possibility for a world that means nothing to you? What right have they to place this load upon you? You’re not only afraid of failure, as any person would be in your place, but you’re furious that they should put you in the position where you have to be afraid.”

  “You’re all wrong.”

  “I don’t think so. Consequently let me take your place. I’ll do it. Whatever it is they expect you to do, I volunteer as substitute. I assume that it’s not something that requires great physical strength or vitality, since a simple mechanical device would outdo you in that respect. I assume it’s not something that requires mentalics, for they have enough of that themselves. It’s something that—well, I don’t know, but if it requires neither brawn nor brain, then I have everything else as well as you—and I am ready to take the responsibility.”