“Both, Professor. As for revealing myself this way, I lacked any other choice. I had been hoping you might persuade the Ktlinans to change their minds without intervention on my part. But they were strongly motivated and undeterred. Now we have run out of time. If disaster is to be averted, we must act.”
Horis moaned.
“A r-robot? You mean one of those tiktokthings that rioted on Trantor? I’ve heard stories…”
Compulsively, he popped another pill into his mouth… then another…while spiraling into a chattering panic. “Seldon, w-what’s going on here? D-d-did this thingkill Sybyl and the others? Is it going to killus?”
“No, I assure you,” Hari began.
“Horis,” interrupted Maserd, “watch how many of those things you’re taking. You’ll overdose!”
“Yes, I am concerned that you may hurt yourself,” said Kers Kantun. He reached for the little man, who moaned and backed away, dropping a spray of blue tablets. Antic turned to run…but only made it a few paces before collapsing.
“Is he all right?” Hari asked, genuinely concerned. Maserd checked Antic’s pulse and nodded. “He appears to be sleeping.”
Then, rising to his feet, the nobleman asked, “Am I next?”
Hari shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Well, Kers? Is our lord-captain here trustworthy?”
The robot made no physical gestures of emotion, just like the Kers of old.
“I am not as fully mentalic as Daneel Olivaw, Professor. My powers are more blunt, and I cannot parse specific thoughts. But I can tell you that Biron Maserd is an admirer of both you and psychohistory. His paramount interest is safeguarding the well-being of his province and its people. Chaos is a threat to that well-being. So, yes, I believe he is an ally.
“In any event, we shall need his help if we are to act before-”
A moan lifted from the floor.
Hari glanced down in surprise to see Mors Planch roll over onto his back and start reaching for his holster again! Kers took a step toward the man, apparently focusing mentalic attention on him for a second time.
The dark spacer yelled. With a jerking spasm, the blaster flew out of his hand and across the room.
Surprisingly, Planch wasn’t quite finished. Moaning, but fierce-eyed with concentration, the captain of the raider ship got up to his knees. Then, while Hari and Maserd stared in awe, he stood the rest of the way on wobbly legs and drew back a fist.
“Madder Loss!”he cried, throwing a wild punch that Kers Kantun easily dodged.
Planch lost consciousness again that very moment, collapsing in the robot’s arms.
Cradling the man, Kers spoke with evident torment in his voice.
“A human being is injured, and I am partly responsible.”
“The Zeroth Law-” Hari began.
“It sustains me, Professor. Nevertheless, rendering Mors Planch unconscious required greater force than any of the others. They will all sleep it off without harm, but his condition is tenuous. I must care for him at once, before we get to work on matters of galactic importance.”
Hari persisted, limping after them as Kers carried the stunned spacer down the hall.
“How did he do that?How did he resist you! Is Planch a latent human mentalic?”
Kers Kantun did not slow down. But the robot’s answer echoed off bulkheads and down companionways.
“No. Mors Planch is something much more dangerous than a mentalic.
“He is normal.”
Part 4. A Magnificient Design
The Director of Rhodia: You seem worried, young fellow. Do you think our secret rebellion against the Tyranni oppressors will fail?
Biron Farrilclass="underline" Your plan is a good one, sir. We may stand a chance, on the battlefield. But what of that crucial document? The one my father sent me to search for, on Old Earth? It was already stolen before I arrived!
The Director: And now you fear it might be used against us?
Farrill : Exactly, sir. I am certain the Tyranni have it.
The Director: But of course not. I have it. I’ve had it for twenty years. It was what started the rebellion world, for it was only when I had it that I knew we could hold our winnings once we had won.
Farrill : It is a weapon, then?
The Director: It is the strongest weapon in the universe. It will destroy the Tyranni and us alike, but will save the Nebular Kingdoms. Without it, we could perhaps defeat the Tyranni, but we would only have exchanged one feudal despotism for another, and as the Tyranni are plotted against, we would be plotted against. We and they must both be delivered into the ash can of outmoded political systems. The time for maturity has come as it once came on the planet Earth, and there will be a new kind of government, a kind that has never yet been tried in the galaxy. There will be no khans, autarchs, emperors, or ruling elites.
Rizzet: In the name of Space, what will there be?
The Director: People.
Rizzet: People? How can they govern? There must be some one person to make decisions.
The Director: There is a way. The blueprint that’s in my possession dealt with a small section of one planet, but it can be adapted to all the galaxy.
1.
R. Zun Lurrinwasastonished to discover something that Daneel had kept from his closest aides-humans lived on Eos!
The ancient repair base for Zeroth Law robots had been chosen for its remoteness and inhospitability to organic life. It was the deepest cryptic heart of a secret the masters should never penetrate, or even imagine. And yet, here they were! A small community of men and women, living quietly under a transparent dome that lay just beyond the frozen metal lake.
Robots stood at their beck and call, silently anticipating every person’s need. With their physical requirements taken care of by attentive machines, the humans were free to direct all their concentration toward a single goal.
Achieving stillness.
Serenity.
Unity.
“For ages, the answer stared me in the face, and yet I never saw it,” Daneel Olivaw told Zun. “A blindness that arose because I am fundamentally a creature of chaos.”
“You?” Zun stared. “But Daneel, you’ve fought chaos for nearly all of your existence! Without your ceaseless efforts…and innovations like the Galactic Empire… plagues of madness would have overwhelmed humanity long ago, instead of being limited to small outbreaks.”
“That may be so,” Daneel answered. “Nevertheless, I share many of the assumptions that were held by my creators-brilliant human roboticists who lived in a time of dynamic science. The first great techno-renaissance upheaval. Those programmers’ deep assumptions still dominate my circuits. Just like them, I habitually believe that all problems can be solved by direct experimentation and analysis. So it never occurred to me that our masters-in their present-day ignorance-had already stumbled onto another way of penetrating to truth.”
Zun watched the humans, about sixty of them, who sat quietly in rows across a carpet made of woven natural reeds. Their backs were straight and their hands unfolded, empty on their laps. No one said a word.
“Meditation,” Zun commented. “I have seen it often. Most of the popular religions and mystical systems teach it, along with countless schools of mental hygiene and discipline.”
“Indeed,” said Daneel. “This type of mental regimen predates technological civilization. Human beings trained their minds in similar ways throughout a variety of cultures. In fact, just about the only society that largely ignored it was techno-Western civilization.”