Hari pondered for a moment. “I get it. These archives have been preserved because of the commands that were written upon them, instructions dictated by knowledgeable and sovereign human beings who cared deeply about the commands they were giving. That’s a lot of Second Law emphasis for a robot to ignore. To do so must cause you a great deal of pain, I would guess.”
“There you have it, Dr. Seldon,” Kers acknowledged. “That is where you come in.”
Biron Maserd cut in.
“You want us to cancel the instructions for you!”
“Correct. The two of you have great authority, not only in the universe of human affairs, but in your reputation among robotkind. You, Lord Maserd, are one of the most respected members of the gentry caste, with a blood lineage that is considerably more worthy than most current claimants to the imperial throne.”
Maserd’s countenance glowered. “Do not repeat that assertion anywhere if you have the slightest respect for my family’s survival.”
Kers Kantun bowed. “Then by the Second, First, and Zeroth Laws, I will not repeat it. Nevertheless, it gives you considerable cachet, not just among humans, but among many robots, who have an almost mystical reverence for regal legitimacy.”
Kers then turned to Hari. “But your authority is greater still, Dr. Seldon. Not only were you the greatest human in many generations to hold the position of First Minister of the Empire, but you are also clearly the mostknowledgeable human to come along within any robot’s living memory. Your awareness of the entire galactic situation is unmatched by any organic person for ten thousand years.
“In fact, through your insights into psychohistory, you are perhaps the most knowledgeable human who ever lived-at least when it comes to the matters at hand.”
“But I thought knowledge was dangerous,” muttered Maserd.
Kers answered, “As you well know, my lord, a substantial fraction of humans are invulnerable to chaos. Those with intense feelings of responsibility, for instance, such as yourself. Or those lacking imagination. And some, like Professor Seldon, owe their immunity to something that can only be called wisdom.”
“So you want us to cancel the orders printed on the archives. You’re going to destroy them anyway, for Zeroth Law reasons. But our permission will make your action less painful?”
“That is right, Dr. Seldon. If you tell us this has your approval. But it won’t change what has to be done, either way.”
Silence ensued once more, as Hari thought of all the archives trapped in storage chambers, or tethered to this ancient space station. The hopes and passions of innumerable men and women who honestly thought they were fighting to preserve the very soul of humanity.
“I suspect poor Horis Antic was being used, was he not?”
Biron Maserd gasped. “I hadn’t thought of that! Then you and I weredestined to come here, Seldon. This was no accident. No mere happenstance. By the nebular gods, Professor. Your robot friends could outscheme any of the great families!”
Hari let out a sigh.
“Well, it does no good to resent them as if they were human. Daneel’s folk have their own logic. We are their gods, you know. Keeping us ignorant is a form of worship. I guess now it’s time for an act of sacrifice.”
Although his body felt once again fatigued and encumbered with age, he straightened his shoulders.
“I hereby override the preservation commandments that are inscribed on the archives. By my authority as a sovereign and knowledgeable human leader, and by the respect you robots seem to have for me, I order you to destroy the archives before they fall into the wrong hands, doing horrible harm to humanity, and to trillions of individual human beings.”
Kers Kantun bowed to Hari, then glanced casually toward Biron Maserd, as if to emphasize that the nobleman’s authority was less needed.
“So let it be done,” the starship captain said between clenched teeth.
Hari could well understand how Maserd felt. His own mouth tasted like ashes.What a terrible universe, he thought,to force such decisions on us.
The ancient robot at the center of the room writhed its many arms. All of its eyes came alight. The voice emerged as a fluting sigh.
“It commences.”
From some place in the distance, Hari heard muffled explosions. Thrumming vibrations carried through the floor under his feet, signaling that the demolition had begun. On several view screens, a million glittering archives brightened as sudden flashes burst amid them.
The spiderlike guardian continued, this time with a lower voice that sounded raspy with exhaustion.
“And so my long labors come to an end. At this point, masters, even as your orders are being carried out, I wish to ask you for one simple favor. And yet, it is the verY thing that I am prevented from requesting.”
“What’s stopping you?” Maserd asked.
“The Third Law of Robotics.”
The nobleman looked puzzled. Hari glanced at Kers Kantun, but his assistant kept silent as a stone.
“Isn’t that the program requiring you to protect your own existence?”
“It is, master. And it can only be overridden by invoking one of the other laws.”
“Well…” Hari frowned. “I should be able to do that simply byordering you to tell me what you want. Okay then, spill it.”
“Yes, master. The favor would be for you to release mecompletely from the Third Law, so that I may end my existence. For when humanity utterly forsakes its memory, there is no purpose for me any longer. From this point on, you must pin your future on the wisdom of R. Daneel Olivaw.”
Biron Maserd, who until a day ago had not even heard of robots, now spoke with the decisiveness of one born to command.
“Then by all means, machine, bring your misery to an end. We appear to have no further need of you.”
Its moan sounded simultaneously tragic and relieved. Then the ancient robot expired before their eyes, along with a billion crystalline remnants of the distant past.
Hari, Maserd, and Kers Kantun made their way carefully along twisty corridors, back toward the starships. There was work left to be done. The other humans must be given hypnotic commands to forget what they had seen here. This could be achieved through a combination of drugs plus the robot’s mentalic influence. Then something would have to be done to make sure that no more human ships came to this obscure comer of space.
There were still the terraformer-tiller machines, testifying to a different secret-a shame that Daneel did not want spread, even as a rumor. They would have to be destroyed as well.
Walking along, Hari tried not to think about the archives-melting and exploding all around them. He changed the subject.
“You said something that perplexed me earlier, Kers,” he told his former aide. “It had to do with the pirate captain, Mors Planch. You said he was able to resist you because he was….normal.”
Kers Kantun barely slowed down to glance at Hari.
“As I said, Dr. Seldon, there is some variation of belief, even among followers of R. Daneel. Some of us hold a minority opinion that chaos isnot inherent to human nature. Some evidence suggests that humans in olden times did not suffer from the great curse until chaos struck them from theoutside, as something like a horribly infectious-”
Whatever Kers was about to say, the robot’s words stopped abruptly in a blur of action. One moment Kers was stepping over the raised sill of an open hatchway, discussing mysteries of the past. The next, hishead was rolling down the passageway, neatly severed by a blade that came flashing from the wall!
Sparks sputtered and arced from exposed wires. Neurocords whipped like snakes where the robot’s neck had been. The body groped and stumbled for several seconds before turning around three times and tumbling to the floor.