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“Not at all, Doctor. What we have in mind will not put you in a position to betray Daneel Olivaw. However, we wonder-”
There came a pause, rather lengthy for a robot.
“-we wonder if you might relish an opportunity to judge him.”
4.
Dors Venabili spent the last part of the voyage transforming her looks. She wanted to conduct her business quickly and be gone without questions. It would do no good showing up on Trantor with the face of a woman everyone thought long dead-the wife of former First Minister Hari Seldon!
She parked her ship at a standard commercial tether and took the Orion elevator down to Trantor’s metal-sheathed surface. At customs, a simple coded phrase persuaded the immigration computers to pass her without a body scan. Daneel’s robots had been using this technique to slip onto the capital for untold generations.
Andsohere we are again, she thought,back in the steel caverns where I spent half my existence protecting Hari Seldon, guiding and nurturing his genius, becoming so good at wifely simulation that my ersatz feelings grew indistinguishable from genuine love.
And just as compelling.
Stifling crowds surrounded her, so unlike the languid pastoral life on most imperial worlds. Dors used to wonder why Daneel designed Trantor this way, to be a maze of metal corridors, whose people scarcely saw the sun. It certainly wasn’t necessary for administrative purposes, or to house Trantor’s forty billions. Many imperial worlds had even larger populations without flattening and merging every continent into a single steel-plated warren.
Only after helping Hari define the outlines of psychohistory did she understand the real underlying reason.
Way back in the dawn era, when Daneel himself had been made, a vast majority of humans-those on Earth-lived in cramped, artificial burrows, a lingering result of some horrible shock. And across the following mille
By designing Trantor this way, Daneel had cleverlypreempted that pattern. Trantor was already-by design-just like a planet filled with chaos survivors! Inherent paranoia and conservatism made it the last place in the galaxy where anyone would attempt a renaissance.
And yet,she thought,a mini-renaissance did happen here once. Hari and I barely survived the consequences.
A voice jarred her, coming from behind.
“Supervisor Jenat Korsan?”
That was one of her aliases. She turned to see a gray-clad woman with mid-level insignia on her epaulets, offering Dors a bow just right for a functionary ranking two levels higher.
“I hope you had a pleasant journey, supervisor?”
Dors responded with proper Ruellian courtesy. But as usual among Greys, there was little time wasted in pleasantries.
“Thank you for meeting me here, Sub-Inspector Smeet. I’ve accessed your reports about the emigration to Terminus. Overall progress appears to be good; however, I observe certain discrepancies.”
The Trantorian bureaucrat underwent a series of flickering facial expressions. Dors didn’t need mentalic powers to read her mind. Greys who lived on permanent assignment in the capital felt superior to functionaries from the outer spiral arms, especially one such as Dors pretended to be-a comptroller from the far periphery. Still, rank could not be ignored. Someone of Dors’ apparent stature could make trouble. Better to cooperate and make sure every box was properly checked off.
“You are in luck, supervisor,” the local official told Dors. “A procession of emigrants can be seen just over there, entering capsules on the first leg of their long journey.”
Dors followed Smeet’s extended arm, indicating a far portion of the vast transit chamber. There, a queue of subdued figures could be seen snaking back and forth between velvet guide ropes. Her acute robotic optics zoomed toward the scene, sca
The human price of Hari’s plan,Dors reflected.Bound for an inhospitable rock called Terminus, supposedly to create a new Encyclopedia, and thus stave off a looming dark age. None of them knows the next layer of truth, that their heirs will have generations of sensational glory. For some time, a civilization centered on Terminus-the Foundation-will shine brighter than the old empire ever did.
Dors smiled, remembering her best years with Hari, back when the Seldon Plan was just taking shape, transforming from a mere glimmer in the equations to a fantastic promise-an apparent way out of humanity’s tragic quandary. A path to something bold and strong enough to withstand chaos, bridging the madness and bringing humanity to a new era.
Those were exciting times. The small Seldon cabal worked frenetically, sharing intense hopes. Along the way, they created a grand design, a tremendous drama whose star players would be these very emigres and their posterity on obscure Terminus.
Then she frowned, remembering the rest of it-the day Hari realized his design was flawed. No plan, no matter how perfect, could cover every eventuality or offer perfect predictability. In all likelihood, perturbations and surprises would throw the beautiful design off course. Yugo Amaryl insisted-and Hari accepted-that there would have to be a guiding force-a Second Foundation.
That was the begi
A bit like me, I suppose. Hari and I nurtured civilizations and we raised foster children, but our creations were always secondhand.
It was tempting to go and visit her granddaughter, Wanda Seldon.But I’d better not. Wanda is mentalic and as sharp as a laser. I can’t let her sniff out what I’m up to.
“Have there been any further escape attempts?” she asked the Grey functionary.
Almost from the day Hari struck his deal with the Committee for Public Safety, some exiles had rebelled against the fate chosen for them. Their methods ranged from ingenious legal injunctions to feigned illnesses and attempts to merge into the population of Trantor. Two dozen even stole a spacecraft and made a break for it, seeking sanctuary on the “renaissance world” of Ktlina.
Smeet nodded, reluctantly. “Yes, but fewer since the Specials stiffened supervision. One girl-the daughter of two Encyclopedists-cleverly forged documents to get herself a job right here, at Orion elevator. She vanished twelve days ago.”
About the same time as Hari.Dors had already tapped the police database, noting their scant information on Seldon’s disappearance.
Making ready to depart from the Great Atrium, Dors sca