“Originating new ones,” muttered Gendibal sarcastically.
“We have had thousands of years of Gaia to work those out.”
“But not on a Galactic scale.”
Trevize, ignoring the short exchange and driving to his point, said, “And what is my role in all this?”
The voice of Gaia—channeled through Novi’s mind—thundered, “Choose! Which alternative is it to be?”
There was a vast silence that followed and finally, in that silence, Trevize’s voice—mental at last, for he was too taken aback to speak—sounded small and still defiant. “Why me?”
Novi said, “Though we recognized the moment had come when either Terminus or Trantor would become too powerful to stop—or worse yet, when both might become so powerful that a deadly stalemate would develop that would devastate the Galaxy—we still could not move. For our purposes, we needed someone—a particular someone—with the talent for rightness. We found you, Councilman. —No, we cannot take the credit. The people of Trantor found you through the man named Compor, though even they did not know what they had. The act of finding you attracted our attention to you. Golan Trevize, you have the gift of knowing the right thing to do.”
“I deny it,” said Trevize.
“You are, every once in a while, sure. And we want you to be sure this time on behalf of the Galaxy. You do not wish the responsibility, perhaps. You may do your best not to have to choose. Nevertheless, you will realize that it is right to do so. You will be sure! And you will then choose. Once we found you, we knew the search was over and for years we have labored to encourage a course of action that would, without direct mentalic interference, so influence events that all three of you—Mayor Branno, Speaker Gendibal, and Councilman Trevize—would be in the neighborhood of Gaia at the same time. We have done it.”
Trevize said, “At this point in space, under present circumstances, is it not true, Gaia—if that is what you want me to call you—that you can overpower both the Mayor and the Speaker? Is it not true that you can establish this living Galaxy you speak of without my doing anything? Why, then, do you not?”
Novi said, “I do not know if I can explain this to your satisfaction. Gaia was formed thousands of years ago with the help of robots that once, for a brief time, served the human species and now serve them no more. They made it quite clear to us that we could survive only by a strict application of the Three Laws of Robotics as applied to life generally. The First Law, in those terms, is: ‘Gaia may not harm life or, through inaction, allow life to come to harm.’ We have followed this rule through all of our history and we can do no other.
“The result is that we are now helpless. We cannot force our vision of the living Galaxy upon a quintillion human beings and countless other forms of life and perhaps do harm to vast numbers. Nor can we do nothing and watch the Galaxy half-destroy itself in a struggle that we might have prevented. We do not know whether action or inaction will cost the Galaxy less; nor, if we choose action, do we know whether supporting Terminus or Trantor will cost the Galaxy less. Let Councilman Trevize decide then—and whatever that decision is, Gaia will follow it.”
Trevize said, “How do you expect me to make a decision? What do I do?”
Novi said, “You have your computer. The people of Terminus did not know that when they made it, they made it better than they knew. The computer on board your ship incorporates some of Gaia. Place your hands on the terminals and think. You may think Mayor Branno’s shield impervious, for instance. If you do, it is possible that she will at once use her weapons to disable or destroy the other two ships, establish physical rule over Gaia and, later on, Trantor.”
“And you will do nothing to stop that?” said Trevize with astonishment.
“Not a thing. If you are sure that domination by Terminus will do the Galaxy less harm than any other alternative, we will gladly help that domination along—even at the cost of our own destruction.
“On the other hand, you may find Speaker Gendibal’s mentalic field and you may then join your computer-magnified push to his. He will, in that case, surely break free of me and push me back. He may then adjust the Mayor’s mind and, in combination with her ships, establish physical domination over Gaia and assure the continued supremacy of the Seldon Plan. Gaia will not move to stop that.
“Or you may find my mentalic field and join that—and then the living Galaxy will be set in motion to reach its fulfillment, not in this generation or the next, but after centuries of labor during which the Seldon Plan will continue. The choice is yours.”
Mayor Branno said, “Wait! Do not make a decision just yet. May I speak?”
Novi said, “You may speak freely. So may Speaker Gendibal.”
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 Se
ldon 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 point 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 ne
ighborhood 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—”