Foundation's Triumph

by David Brin

  Daneel shook his head. “Now is not the time to resume our ancient argument--over your proposed Minus One Law. The transition boundary approaches. For Hari’s sake and for the sake of the Plan, I must insist that you lower this platform at once.”

  “What is the harm in letting Seldon see the world five centuries from now?” asked Zorma. “His work in this period is done. You said so yourself. Why not let humans be involved in the decision, when your salvation is ready?”

  Daneel glanced at the brightening glow within the sarcophagus. Already their reflections could be seen on an expanding mirrorlike bubble, approaching gradually but inexorably. He looked back at Zorma.

  “Is that your chief concern? I am willing to make a vow, on the memory of Giskard, and by the Zeroth Law. When my solution is ready, humanity will be consulted. It will not be imposed on human beings without their sovereign decision.”

  If this satisfied Zorma and Cloudia, R. Gornon still cried out.

  “I know you and your tricks, Olivaw. You will stack the decks, somehow. I insist that Hari Seldon be allowed to go!” Daneel raised an eyebrow. “You insist?”

  Apparently that word had some special meaning among robots. For at that moment, the world exploded around Hari in a sudden blur.

  Beams of searing light shot forth from both of R. Gornon’s hands. Daneel Olivaw replied in kind. Nor were those the only combatants.

  Abruptly, parts of the surrounding scaffolding detached themselves from the matrix of wooden planks, revealing themselves to be robots, camouflaged amid the latticework! These now leaped to support Daneel.

  In response, searing rays were fired by Gornon’s supporters on the surrounding rubble piles. Horis Antic screamed, diving for cover. Gaal Dornick went pale and fainted. But no humans seemed to be involved in the melee--either as fighters or as victims!

  Cutting lancets of force swept between Hari’s legs and under his arms, or lashed by his head, missing by centimeters...but nothing actually touched his flesh. It was meticulous combat, in which avoiding injury to human bystanders took utmost priority, and Hari’s biggest danger came from a rain of shattered and smoldering robot parts falling everywhere.

  It didn’t last long. Surely, R. Gornon never expected to prevail. Yet, Hari’s first concern was for the one robot who remained standing when it was all over.

  “You are wounded! Is it serious?” he asked his old friend and mentor.

  Curls of smoke rose from several places along Daneel’s humaniform body, where clothes and fleshy outer coverings had burned away to reveal a gleaming surface-armor resistant to anything but sunlike force. To Hari it was a reminder of legends he had read in A Child’s Book of Knowledge, stories of gods and titans--immortal beings combating each other, beyond any power of human interference.

  Daneel Olivaw stood amid the wreckage, gazing with apparently genuine sadness at the wastage of his kinfolk.

  “I am well, old friend Hari.”

  Daneel turned to glance at Zorma and Cloudia. “By your inaction, can I assume that my promise will satisfy you? For the next five centuries?”

  The two “women” nodded as one. Zorma answered for them both.

  “That’s not so long to wait. We hope you’ll keep us informed about your plans for human salvation, Daneel. Above all, we pray your Plan is a noble one for both of our long-suffering races.”

  Hari noted the implied message.

  In your devotion to human posterity, don’t leave out something for the robots.

  But he knew his lifelong friend too well. The servant race would not get even a minor priority. Only humanity mattered to Daneel.

  “And now it is time for us to leave this dangerous place,” Olivaw said, reaching for the lever that would start the platform’s descent.

  Just then Wanda Seldon uttered a cry.

  “Maserd! I just realized...he’s gone!”

  They peered in all directions, some of them using greatly enhanced positronic senses, but the nobleman from Rhodia wasn’t present. Either he had clambered swiftly down the scaffolding during the fight, or else

  Or else Daneel will have two resilient humans to deal with, in a few centuries, Hari thought, as the platform started moving slowly downward. Daneel had better not forget to have someone waiting here, because if those two ever became allies...

  There was no proof that Maserd had dived into the glowing ball, which now filled the entire volume of the sarcophagus, sending forth brilliant rays of light, whose colors Hari could not describe and could swear he had never seen before in his life.

  Having watched omnipotent immortals battle it out, just moments before, Hari knew there was very little that even Mors Planch or Biron Maserd could accomplish if they were let loose in the galaxy’s future. He had a strong picture of what kinds of societies would be floundering, and sometimes flourishing, in that era-to-come. His Foundation would already dominate the opposite side of the galaxy, but the effects would hardly be visible here on the homeworld--long-forgotten Earth.

  With a sigh, he wished the two men well...wherever and whenever they had gone.

  The ground approached, tormented by ancient, barely remembered crimes. He glanced once more up at the glow emanating from the sarcophagus.

  I admit I was sorely tempted. It would have been one hell of an adventure, especially if they made me young again.

  Hari closed his eyes, feeling the strong but gentle clasp of his old comrade Daneel around his shoulders, steadying his frail body as the makeshift elevator bumped to its final rest. He let Daneel turn him around, guiding his footsteps back toward the Earthling camp--as he had let others guide his life from the very beginning, though for most of that span he never quite realized it.

  9.

  The next morning, while Earthling work gangs labored to clean up the battle debris, Daneel and Hari met with Zorma and Cloudia outside their swift starship, as they prepared to depart.

  “Cloudia, I urge you. If your grandson ever contacts you, persuade him not to interfere. Great momentum is building toward a climax, five or six centuries from now. If Biron tries to deflect this juggernaut, I’m afraid he will only get hurt.”

  The human cyborg nodded, and Hari noted--perhaps a little enviously--the youthful strength of her supple figure. Not counting replaced parts, she was much older than he. Her expression was patient, yet sardonic.

  “That is, if he shows up. You may see him before I do, Daneel, if he dived through after Mors Planch, and if you are waiting here when he arrives in that future era. If so, be gentle with the boy. He means well.”

  “I am nearly always gentle. But if he means well, why did he steal Hari Seldon’s copy of the psychohistorical Prime Radiant? I scanned Gornon’s ship, and found ample evidence that Maserd was the culprit.”

  Cloudia offered a grim smile. “We Hinriads tend to be pack rats when it comes to acquiring knowledge. We can’t get enough. You should know that by now, after eighteen thousand years. We are the only human group that ever fought you to a standstill and forced you to agree to terms.”

  Daneel assented, with a tilt of his head.

  “All of that is in the past, and dependent on your continued good behavior. I’m letting you go now, based on your vow not to meddle.”

  Zorma laughed aloud, much like a human woman who was both a little afraid and bravely defiant. “You are letting us go for the same reason you once spared Lodovic Trema, even though his mutation made all the other Zeroth Law robots eager to smash him to bits.

  “You’re smart, Olivaw. Smart enough to be a bit unsure. You are setting up some sort of a backup solution, in case Seldon’s psychohistory plan needs to be replaced. But your solution just may need its own backup. In that case, your only hope could be some new synergy between robots and humans. Perhaps a hybrid combination, like us perverts--” Zorma gestured at herself and Cloudia. “Or else something as deeply disturbing to you as Lodovic Trema.”

  Zorma’s expression and her voice lowered. “Just remember your promise,
Olivaw. That humankind will be consulted, when you present your glorious and carefully designed salvation. There is uneasiness about this among a great many robots, even among your followers.”

  Daneel nodded. “I will keep my word. Human volition will playa role in the decision.”

  Zorma looked at Daneel, as if trying to pierce his impervious skin with her gaze. “Well, in that case, at least one mistake that was made here on Earth won’t be repeated.”

  Then, over a microwave channel that only robots shared:

  A final note, Daneel. Leave Dors and Lodovic alone. They are special. You gave them the seeds of something precious. Don’t resent them if they take it in directions you do not understand.

  Hari and Daneel watched the two women depart, ascending the gangplank and closing the portal. Their ship lifted on cushions of antigravity, turning slowly and accelerating to the east, barely skimming over the ancient cities, touching each of them with its shadow.

  They were silent for a while. Then Hari spoke.

  “You and I both know you won’t keep that promise.”

  Hari’s robot friend turned to look at him.

  “How much have you figured out?”

  “I now know all of the old damping mechanisms--at least enough to understand the gaps in the psychohistorical equations that puzzled me. Techniques that helped you and your allies keep the empire stable, peaceful, and unchaotic, against all odds, for most of the last twelve millennia.”

  Daneel offered a thin smile. “I’m glad you had the satisfaction of working it out for yourself. I planned to explain it all, just before--”

  “Just before I died?” Hari laughed. “Now don’t you go tactful on me, all of a sudden. Besides, most of the old dampers are breaking down. It’s easy to see that chaos outbreaks would become increasingly common if the empire didn’t fall. If it weren’t pushed over the edge, in fact.

  “Anyway, that’s all part of the past, and we’re talking about the future. When I throw in some other factors--like the way you’ve introduced human mentalics during the last two generations, and your long-standing promotion of meditation arts among humans, I can begin to guess the sort of salvation you have in mind.”

  Daneel looked across the devastated ruins of Chicago, and from there to the sere landscape beyond. His voice started out hushed.

  “It is called Gaia. A way to bring each living world to a new level of consciousness. Though in the long run, we have hopes that it will connect every planet to all others, and become something truly wonderful--Galaxia.”

  “Complete mentalic linkage among all living humans.” So, Hari had guessed right. “That will take some time to achieve. No wonder you need my Plan...in order to keep humanity busy until this Gaia solution is ready. I believe I can already surmise many of its advantages, from your perspective, Daneel. But please use your own words, tell me that this great gift will be worth all the trouble.”

  The ancient robot turned to look at Hari, spreading his arms as if to encompass the breadth of a magnificent vision.

  “What problems would this not solve? An end to human acrimony, strife, and war, once every living man and woman can understand perfectly the thoughts of every other one! An end to loneliness--the word will lose all meaning as each child joins the commonality at birth.

  “An ability to share all of the great ideas at an instant! Stability and inertia against sudden changes, making humanity forever secure against the impulsiveness of chaos. And there is more, much more.

  “Already my experiments show a wondrous possibility, Hari. That such a macro-linkage of human minds can become somehow connected to an entire surrounding ecosphere. The sensations and primitive yearnings of animals, and even plant life, become accessible. Human brains will then become only the topmost organs of a universal entity, comprising the whole life force of a planet, even down to the pulsing throb of magma, deep below the surface.

  “The inevitable result will be peace, serenity, a sense of union with all manner of beings...just as great human sages often prescribed in the past. An abnegation of selfish individualism in favor of the profound wisdom of the whole. All of this will be yours, once you are all assimilated into the collective consciousness.”

  Hari felt genuinely moved.

  “It sounds gorgeous, when you put it that way. Of course the vision you present is appealing to me, given my own peculiar lifelong neurosis, my hatred of unpredictability. The cosmic mind--this new godhead, will be fantastically easier to model than swarms of cantankerous individual humans. I can even see where you got the idea. Having read the ancient encyclopedia you gave me, I know that many prehistoric philosophers shared this dream.”

  Then Hari raised the index finger of one hand.

  “But psychohistorical honesty forces me to tell you, Daneel, that there are several major problems awaiting you, as you try to implement this Galaxia solution. And the result may not be as unalloyedly happy as you described it just now.”

  To his surprise, Daneel remained silent instead of asking for an elaboration. Hari pondered the reason...then met the eyes of his old mentor.

  “I can see now why you didn’t want me to go into the future.”

  Daneel let out a sigh.

  “With your vaunted reputation and insight, you would be hailed as a leading public figure, from the moment you were recognized and your identity confirmed. If R. Gornon had his way, you’d surely be chosen to lead some grand commission of humans to evaluate the proposed coalescence into Galaxia.

  “But I already knew you’d feel conflicted about this alternative solution, Hari. You have mixed feelings about this overmind that will take over, once the Seldon Plan achieves its real purpose. In your skepticism, you would organize a real commission. One that might poke away at those problems you just alluded to.”

  Hari understood Daneel’s point, yet he persisted.

  “I’m sure we’d give it a fair hearing, and present the results to sovereign human institutions in a favorable light.”

  “That’s not good enough, Hari, and you know it. Humanity must be saved, and it has a frightfully poor record of acting in its own best interest.”

  Hari mused on this.

  “So you’ll stack the deck, as you did by arranging for me to arrive at the Thumartin Nebula, just as the archives needed to be destroyed. You knew I had to decide in favor of their destruction. My character, psychology, and fear of chaos... everything made my choice inevitable--though at least I have enough insight to know this about myself. Those Zeroth Law robots who felt uneasy about destroying the archives were given a way to resolve their dissonance. My ‘human authority’ let them proceed with the plan you had mapped out. All in humanity’s best interest.”

  Hari lifted a finger again. “Zorma was right. Your real constituency, the ones you must convince, are robots. You foresee, in five centuries or so, that they will be the ones able to thwart your plan if you can’t satisfy their positronic drives. And since you’ll be replacing the old familiar humanity with something new and strange, it will take some convincing! No wonder you gave in so easily, and made that promise to Zorma. Human volition must appear to playa role in the decision, or else you’ll have a hard time getting all robots to agree

  “And yet, I know you, Daneel. I know what you and Giskard did here”--Hari motioned at the radioactive wasteland--”rationalizing that it was for our own good, without consulting even one of us. You’ll also want the Gaia decision to be a foregone conclusion. Would you mind telling me how you’ll arrange that, in five hundred years?”

  Silence lasted over a minute before Daneel answered.

  “By presenting a human being who is always right.”

  Hari blinked.

  “I beg your pardon? A human who is always what?”

  “One who has always made correct decisions, from childhood onward. One who, in a crisis, reliably chooses the winning side, and has always been proved right by the test of time. And who always will.”

  Hari stared at
Daneel, then burst out laughing.

  “That’s impossible! It violates every physical and biological law.”

  Daneel nodded.

  “And yet, it can be made convincing. Perhaps even more credible than your grasp of human affairs through psychohistory, Hari. All I have to do is start out with a million bright boys and girls, with just the right traits, and present them with challenges from puberty until age thirty or so. Many of those challenges will be rigged for success...or else mistakes can be smoothed over. Despite that, many of them will fail visibly and be dropped out of the pool. But over time, I am statistically guaranteed at least one who suits my needs. Who looks, superficially, far too successful to be explained by natural means.”

  Hari recalled a classic stock-market scheme that had been successful in duping the inhabitants of Krasner Sector--seven hundred billion people--about eighty years ago. Daneel’s approach was a clever version of this old shell game, which only worked when practiced with immense patience. It was also nearly impossible to detect when done properly.

  “So there won’t be an investigative commission, after all. No need to report to sovereign human institutions for a decision. If this fellow has always been right, that will give him enough credibility to impress most robots, who will simply accept whatever he decides!

  “Of course, some will be wary that you are influencing him mentalically, and they’ll watch for that trick. They’ll check his brain for signs of tampering. But you won’t have to touch him! You can use psychological techniques to sway him in advance toward the right decision, especially if you control his upbringing...as you did mine.”

  Hari paused, chewing on a thought. “So, most robots will have their Second Law itch scratched. Getting ‘human approval’ for your plan, without actually having to consult humanity at large.

  “Of course, you know that some of them won’t swallow this scam. Many will rebel anyway, attempting to protect humanity from what they see as a seizure of power by a single mutant overmind.”