Foundation’s Triumph

Their rented van arrived on schedule. The driver took one look at the crates and turned to hail a group of local laborers who were lounging nearby, hiring them on the spot to load the heavy boxes. Antic fretted as they hauled his precious instruments, meant to check out a bizarre theory aboutplanetary tilling andcurrents of space.

Hari felt less worried, even though his financial contribution to their purchase was substantial. The cost seemed worthwhile if this endeavor might shed some new light on his own concerns. But in the long run, none of it would make any difference to his place in history. For Antic, on the other hand, this voyage was his sole chance to leave a mark on the universe.

A spaceport limo came to pick up the three of them while the cargo van followed behind, moving along avenues clearly designed for much greater traffic than they carried nowadays. Demarchia’s economy was not good. There were many small crowds of laborers, looking for odd jobs.

A sprinkle of rain fell on the limousine’s windows, startling the Trantor-born Kers, but putting Hari in a good mood.

“You know,” he chatted affably, “over the course of many thousands of years, this world has hosted quite a few experiments in democracy.”

“Indeed, Professor?” Antic leaned forward. He took a blue pill and started biting his nails again.

“Oh, yes. One form that I always found fascinating was called TheNation.”

“I never heard of it.”

“Not surprising. Your specialties lie elsewhere. Most people consider history distasteful or boring,” Hari mused.

“But Iam interested, Professor. Please, will you tell me about it?”

“Hm. Well, you see, there has always been a basic problem in applying democracy on a pan-galactic scale. A typical deliberative body can only operate with at most a few thousand members. Yet that’s far too few to personally represent ten quadrillion voters, spread across twenty-five million worlds! Nevertheless, various attempts were made to solve this dilemma, such ascumulative representation. Each planetary congress elects a few delegates to their local star-zone assembly, which then chooses from its ranks a few to attend the regional sector conference. At that level, a small number are selected to proceed onward, representing the sector at a quadrant moot…and so on until a final set of peers gathers in that building on the hill.”

He pointed to a stone structure, whose white columns seemed to shine, even under pelting rain.

“Unfortunately, this process doesn’t result in a cumulative distillation ofpolicy options from below. Rather, the outcome-dictated by basic human nature-will be a condensation of the most bland and inoffensive politicians from across the galaxy. Or else charismatic demagogues. Either way, only the concerns of a few planets will ever be debated, on a statistically semirandom basis. And on those rare occasions when one of the constituent assemblies here on Demarchia shows some spirit, the other houses of parliament can be relied upon to put on the brakes. It is a tried-and-true method for slowing things down and not letting momentary passions govern the day.”

“It almost sounds like you approve,” Antic suggested.

“It is generally a pretty good idea not to let political systems oscillate too wildly, especially when the psychohistorical inertia factors aren’t adequately damped by sociocentripetal assumption states or other-”

He stopped with a small smile. “Well, let’s just say that it can get pretty complicated, but the crux is that cumulative legislatures don’t accomplish very much. But on occasion, over the last fifteen thousand years. some alternative approaches were tried.”

“Including thisNation thing you spoke of? Was it another kind of assembly?”

“You might say that. For about seven hundred years, a ninth house met here on Demarchia, more powerful and influential than all of the others combined. It derived that power partly from its sheer size, for it consisted of more than a hundred million members.”

Antic rocked back in his seat. “A hundred million! But…” he sputtered. “How could…?”

“It was an elegant solution, actually,” Hari continued, recalling how the psychohistorical equations balanced when he studied this episode of empire history. “Each planet, depending on its population, would elect between one and ten representatives to send directly here, bypassing the sector, zone, and quadrant assemblies. Those chosen were not only august and respected politicians, knowledgeable about the needs of their homeworld. There were various other requirements. For instance, each delegate to the Nation was required to have some humble skill that he or she was very good at. Upon arriving here, they were all expected to take up their crafts in the local economy. A shoemaker might find a shoe shop waiting for him. A gourmet cook would set up her own restaurant and perform that task in Demarchia’s economy. Fully half of the homes and businesses on this continent were set aside for these transient denizens, who would live and work here until their ten-year terms were up.”

“But then…when did they have time to argue about laws and stuff?”

“At night. In electronic forums and televised deliberations. Or in local meeting halls, where they would thrash things out while making and breaking alliances, trading proxy votes or passing petitions. Methods of self -organized coalition building varied with each session as much as the population. But however they did it, the Nation was always vibrant and interesting. When they made mistakes, those errors tended to be dramatic. But some of the best laws of the empire were also passed during that era. Why, Ruellis herself was a leading delegate at the time.”

“Really?” Horis Antic blinked. “I always thought she must’ve been an empress.”

Hari shook his head.

“Ruellis was an influential commoner during an era of exceptional creativity…a ‘golden age’ that unfortunately crashed when the first chaos plagues swept across the galaxy, triggering a collapse back to direct imperial rule.”

Hari could picture the imbalance of forces that spread during that bright period in the empire’s history. It must have seemed so unfair to those involved, to witness a time of unprecedented inventiveness and hope founder against sudden tides of irrationality, throwing world after world into violent turmoil. But in retrospect, it was all too obvious to Hari.

“Did that end the Nation?” Antic inquired, awed fascination in his voice.

“Not quite. There were several more experiments. At one point it was decided that every third Nation would consist entirely of women delegates, giving them exclusive reign over this continent and sole power to propose new laws. The only male allowed to visit or speak here was the emperor himself. Emperor Hupeissin.”

“HornyHupeissin?” Antic laughed aloud. “Is that where he got his reputation?”

Hari nodded.

“Hupeissin of the Heavenly Harem. Of course that is a base calumny, spread by members of the later Torgin Dynasty, to discredit him. In fact, Hupeissin was an exemplary Ruellian philosopher-king, who sincerely wanted to hear the independent deliberations of-”

But Antic wasn’t listening. He kept chuckling, shaking his head. “Alone with a hundred million women! Talk about delusions of adequacy!”

Hari saw that even Kers Kantun had cracked a faint smile. The normally dour servant glanced at Hari, as if convinced that this must be a made-up tale.

“Well, well.” Hari sighed and changed the subject. “I see the spaceport up ahead. I do hope your faith in this charter captain is justified, Horis. We need to be back within a month, at most, or real trouble may break loose back on Trantor.”

He had expected a tramp freighter. A crate, hissing and creaking at the seams. But the vessel awaiting them in a launching cradle was something else entirely.