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Asimov’s Future History Volume 20, Page 2

Isaac Asimov


  Novi shuddered at that. Death away from Gaia was a chilling thought, one she had not fully considered. As part of Gaia, no matter what happened to her body, all that she really was would go on when she died. But not now, cut off. No. She couldn’t think about that. Protecting Gaia was more important than her own survival, and this might be the only chance she would get.

  Novi tried.

  “A threat to what?” she asked. “To the Seldon Plan? Only because we offer something better. You of the Second Foundation should understand that better than anyone. Imagine it: all humanity as one being, interconnected. Your imprecise mathematics of psychohistory would cease to be necessary; we would know what was best, not just for large groups, but for individuals too. Your Plan exists to make life better for every human being. So does Gaia. And we can do so in a far more effective way than you. Our future is better than yours. You’ve seen the evidence in my mind.”

  “Oh, yes. Councilman Trevize,” Gendibal responded, his tone lightly sarcastic. “An interesting individual. Would that I could remember our meeting.” Novi winced inwardly. “How can you truly expect anyone to accept him as evidence?” Gendibal now demanded. “All our research into mentalics, all the Foundation’s knowledge of physical science, and no evidence has been found of any potential for foreknowledge. No possibility of psychic visions, no possibility of information traveling backwards in time. None.”

  Novi tried to remember, but even things that should have been easy for her had become impossible. It was as if she had tried to put on a shoe, only to find herself without arms or legs, or even the memory of what a shoe looked like. Her memories of Golan Trevize were almost totally inaccessible. He had been traveling with another part of Gaia, but the where and why of it was gone. There had been no need for that part of Gaia’s knowledge to be stored in Novi’s mind. But her surety remained.

  “And yet the man is always right,” Novi insisted. “No one can be as lucky as he seems to be. The only explanation is that he has some unique quality that makes him right. What other possibility do you propose?”

  “Why should the burden of proof be on us?” he asked. “You want us to accept a decision affecting the future of all humanity. Surely this requires extraordinary evidence on your part, not on ours.”

  This was Novi’s opening, and she took it. “Gaia has tracked Golan Trevize his entire life,” she replied, with some measure of strength. Alone or not, he was giving her an opportunity to present Gaia’s case, and she would use it as best she could. “Those memories may not be in my mind, but they are still present in Gaia. You can ask us yourselves.”

  “We could not accept any evidence from Gaia as legitimate,” he replied. “You’ve deceived us before.”

  “Then what will convince you?” she asked, knowing the answer. There could be no other.

  “We must examine Trevize’s memories,” Gendibal said. “If they are legitimate and unaltered, and concur with Gaia’s memories of his life, then perhaps we might consider more... phenomenal explanations.”

  “But if you enter his mind, you risk destroying his gift!” It had to be said, but Novi knew it would not be enough for him.

  “In all Gaia’s actions, that is the one thing I do not understand. You had your answer. You needed Trevize no longer. Why not examine his mind and discover for certain whether it was really true?”

  “Because we do not understand the mechanism by which is intuition functions. What if it is different from usual mentalic manipulation? What if, by merely observing, we damaged his gift? And what if he was needed again?”

  “And what if, by making multiple decisions based on an uncertain source, you destroy mankind?” he asked. “The more decisions made based on his supposed infallibility, the greater the need for certainty.”

  Novi smiled. “Not every being in the universe follows your rigorous scientific standards, Stor,” she said. She had always found this unyielding part of his personality amusing. “For us, preponderance of evidence was more important than cause. Having been convinced, we could not risk destroying something so utterly unique as Golan Trevize simply to satisfy our own curiosity.” Her amusement was short. Without the joy of Gaia it seemed hollow.

  Novi did not know how Gaia would react to these developments. Being alone made so many things unclear that would always have been as natural as breathing. Before, Gaia would never have allowed anyone to touch Trevize’s mind. But to avoid open conflict with the Second Foundation...

  She took a deep breath, and tried to hide her desperation as she asked, “Please, Stor. Let me reconnect to Gaia. We can find him. Maybe he will agree to your terms.”

  Gendibal said nothing. Obviously the answer was no. She had known it would be. There was nothing more to say. She had done what she could, and the Second Foundation would do what it would. Novi and Gendibal looked at each other for several more moments. Even through his training, she could see his regret. “I’m sorry, Novi,” he eventually said.

  Novi sighed, lay back down on the cot and closed her eyes, expecting to be forced into unconsciousness again. She tried not to wonder if she would ever wake up. After a few seconds more, she heard the door open and close. Novi waited, but minutes later nothing had happened. She sat up to find the room once again empty. Despite his attitude towards her, having Stor there had eased the pain of being alone ever so slightly. Now he was gone. So empty.

  But not quite as empty as before, she realized after a few seconds. On the table she saw an object. A book, she realized as she picked it up; a real one, made out of synthetic paper. Tales of the Fourth Dynasty, the title read. Novi realized that she knew how to read, even separate from Gaia. As a part of Gaia, reading was usually needless, but apparently the knowledge was stored in them all. She wondered why that was, and hoped that she would one day know again.

  With nothing else to do, Novi sat down on her cot with Gendibal’s gift. Opening to the first page, she began for the first time to read a book.

  Shandess sensed Gendibal’s approach before seeing him turn the corner. His interactions with the Gaian had been observed, of course. Several of them were taking shifts, watching her mind, constantly maintaining the wall between her and her world.

  Her living world! The Table had not known what expectations to hold when examining her mind, but that was certainly not among them! Already some of their researchers were excitedly discussing what could be learned from the structure of her mind, the way it was designed to connect to a larger whole. But all knew that they might not long be able to afford such contemplation.

  Gendibal came to a stop before Shandess. “An imperial-era romance novel?” the First Speaker asked, not showing his amusement.

  “The librarians said it was the book they could best afford to lose,” Gendibal replied simply.

  “You did well,” Shandess said.

  Gendibal shook his head. “I slipped, when I first entered. The mentalic dissonance from my false memories has not fully dissipated.”

  “It will, with time,” Shandess told him. “Regardless, you accomplished what we intended, without the damage to her mind than would have been necessary had we tried to manipulate her directly. I believe she can convince Gaia to let us examine Trevize.”

  This time Gendibal nodded. “She is to live, then?”

  “The others are... pacified,” Shandess replied. “In your absence, the Table has come to a compromise. The vote is unanimous, lacking only yours.”

  “Then the decision is made, regardless of how I vote.”

  “In this matter, the participation of the entire Table will be required. Yours most especially.”

  “In what way?” Gendibal asked. There were only a few possible answers.

  “Novi will be allowed to reconnect to Gaia,” Shandess replied. “But not here. We will take her home. The entire Table will accompany her, and we will arrange to have the rest of the Second Foundation channel their abilities to us. They will not be able to ambush us, as they did you. Our combined strength wil
l be sufficient to counter anything Gaia may attempt. Hopefully, Gaia will cooperate, and lead us to Trevize.”

  “And if Gaia does not cooperate?”

  “Our strength will also be sufficient to destroy them. What is your vote?”

  Gendibal did not hesitate.

  Chapter 8

  HARI SELDON-... SUCCEEDING ETO DEMERZEL AS FIRST MINISTER TO EMPEROR CLEON I. DURING THIS TIME, SELDON INSTITUTED A STRICT POLICY OF CONTAINMENT REGARDING THE SO-CALLED “CHAOS WORLDS”. SOME BELIEVED THAT HE WAS OVERREACTING, ATTEMPTING TO STIFLE PERCEIVED THREATS TO THE EMPIRE. BUT IT IS NOW ACCEPTED THAT HIS PRIMARY PURPOSE WAS TO ELIMINATE VARIABLES FROM HIS PSYCHOHISTORICAL RESEARCH. WHAT EFFECT THESE WORLDS MIGHT HAVE HAD IF THEIR RENAISSANCES HAD BEEN ALLOWED TO CONTINUE...

  DANEEL OLIVAW SAT in the conference room alone, waiting. It was a large room, as such things went at this facility, dominated by the rectangular synthetic wood table at which he sat. Hovering above the center of the table was a large hologram of Earth, slowly rotating about its axis. Daneel had been in this room facing the holographic planet for hours, looking at it but not seeing it.

  It mattered little where and how long Daneel waited any more. For decades, he had been conserving his efforts, slowing his thoughts, saving what time he had so he might survive to see Trevize’s choice made. Soon his inactivity would end, and if all had gone according to plan, he could have used his remaining days to oversee the beginning of Gaia’s expansion. When the time finally came, he could die knowing that he had given this one final gift to his masters.

  He should have known it would not be so simple. Trevize’s intuition was utterly unpredictable. Even now, Daneel had no idea how it could possibly operate, only that overwhelming numbers of observations showed that it did. When Trevize decided to locate Earth, Daneel had great confidence that he would succeed, and decided to take advantage of the situation.

  Having set things into motion with Lodovik, Daneel had come here with Dors and Zun so that they could prepare this facility for their visitors’ arrival. Knowing that the effort might well be his last, they had also brought Yan from their base on Eos. Upon Daneel’s death, Yan would remove his positronic brain and preserve the information it held. The memories he possessed spanned most of human history. Perhaps one day that history might be given back to humanity, once it was safe to do so.

  Daneel remembered being in this place many times before. For a time, many thousands of years ago, it had been his primary base of operations. Few humans had ever seen this place, but it had been left in readiness for possible need. Daneel never discarded an asset without need, and time was something he had had in abundance. Until now.

  Daneel had not mourned his coming demise. There had been much effort expended trying to prolong his life; the Laws required it. But Daneel had accepted when there was nothing else to be done. Once Trevize’s intentions had become clear, Daneel even thought it quite appropriate that he die here, of all places. Though built by Aurorans, he had first been activated on Earth. Humanity had been born here, and from here had spread to fill the galaxy. And though the world had finally been rendered unlivable, it was still Earth. Daneel focused briefly on the hologram. What better place for him to meet his end?

  Fallom had changed everything.

  Daneel had long known something of the situation on Solaria, and had decided there was nothing to be gained by interfering. But from his distant observations only robot activity had been seen. The Solarians’ self-modification had progressed farther than he had ever imagined. Daneel had worked through his connection to Gaia, through Bliss, to help save the travelers, but also to help save himself. Solarian brains had become vastly more advanced than that of a standard human, and the child’s provided an additional flexibility lost in the adults. Daneel might yet survive, at least a little longer. If all went well.

  Daneel contemplated the two robots that had come with Lodovik. They would have been some of his oldest friends, if not for their misguided opposition to his plans. At least Zorma’s faction had always remained neutral in the larger conflicts. It was the only way they could ensure their own survival, given their small size and unique approach to robot-human relations. For all he had said against the hybrids, it was Zorma’s presence as much as Fallom’s that made his continued survival more probable. He supposed it was only natural that Lodovik had formed a relationship with her group; he was already something like they were attempting to become. Daneel considered it reasonably likely that Zorma would provide the assistance he would need.

  Turringen had been a far greater obstacle at times. That robot had always shown a unique ability to gather others to his cause. Some of Daneel’s agents were devoted to nothing but thwarting Turringen’s constant attempts to gather all the Calvinian sects under his own leadership. So long as those groups stayed separate, they would be unable to pose any serious opposition to Daneel’s plans. Now Daneel hoped to remove those groups’ motivations entirely. Perhaps they would understand, once all was made clear to them. He had thought that before, though.

  As if in response to his thoughts, the door opened, and figures began to enter. Rousing himself, Daneel stood as Dors entered, followed by the three humans, and then Zorma, Turringen, and finally Lodovik. Little was said, but Daneel observed each of the visitors as they entered, learning what he could. The humans all looked rested, far better than they had when they had first arrived. It was obvious from her eyes that Bliss had been crying, but for the moment she seemed composed. Now Bliss was simply waiting for answers. Gaia was waiting.

  Pelorat was staying close to her, but he alternated between glancing at Daneel himself and looking away. Daneel suspected that the historian found him intimidating, as many humans had. He still found the idea disturbing on some level, that his masters would be frightened by him, but he understood their reaction.

  Trevize, on the other hand, ignored Daneel completely. He seemed to be trying his best to charm Zorma, having apparently struck up a conversation with her at some point before arriving. Daneel wondered just how much she had told Trevize about herself. Zorma took a moment to nod to Daneel, then returned to her conversation with Trevize. Interesting. Zorma seemed to be enjoying Trevize’s company as much as he was enjoying hers. Daneel was again reminded how difficult Zorma was to predict.

  The same could be said of Turringen, who spoke to no one as he sat down. Whenever Daneel felt that he had an accurate model of Turringen’s actions, the Calvinian always did something unexpected. It had made him a significant adversary at times.

  Turringen bowed slightly to Daneel, his face expressionless. Daneel knew the bow was perfunctory, nothing more, the result of centuries of habit. Daneel returned the bow, slightly deeper. No matter how unpredictable Turringen may have been, one thing would remain constant: he would never like or respect Daneel Olivaw. The best Daneel could hope for was that they could work together.

  Lodovik entered the room last, leaving the door open behind him. Daneel took a microsecond to contemplate the assortment of beings in the room. One human with infallible intuition, another connected to a hive-minded planet. Four robots who had, in varying ways, superseded their own basic design. Only Pelorat and Turringen were relatively standard examples of their kind, and even they were unique in their own ways. It was easily the most interesting gathering Daneel had ever been party to, not even accounting for Fallom and Yan in the infirmary.

  As humans and robots finished sitting, Daneel did as well. All the others chose to sit towards the far end of the table, the humans on one side, Lodovik and Zorma on the other, and Turringen occupying the end opposite Daneel. Trevize seemed to make a point of sitting across from Zorma at the end closest to Turringen. Their conversation had died down upon reaching the table, and Trevize finally turned to face Daneel, though not without one last smile at Zorma. Daneel found it difficult to imagine that her reaction towards Trevize’s flirting was more than mere politeness. Though given Dors’ past, he realized, perhaps such assumptions were poorly fo
unded.

  Lodovik sat closest to Daneel on his side of the table. Yet another robot that was a mystery to him. Almost immediately upon his “emancipation”, Lodovik had contacted the other factions, sometimes working in direct opposition to Daneel. Ever since, Daneel had never been truly sure of his old friend’s motivations. Without the Laws, he was even more unpredictable than a human being. But the opportunity he provided through his contacts with the other sects was too great to ignore.

  Bliss sat closest to Daneel on the human side of the table, Pelorat between her and Trevize. The attitudes of the three could not have been more different. Trevize was smiling, seeming slightly excited, and almost defiantly at ease. Pelorat, faced with a table full of robots, obviously had no idea where to look, despite Lodovik’s attempt to put the man at ease with a small smile. He seemed to try and focus on the hologram, deciding it was a neutral point of interest.

  Bliss was completely calm, neither nervous nor excited. She was simply expectant. No doubt Gaia felt the same way, and Daneel once more wished he could sense their mood. But Gaia wanted answers, and Daneel was prepared to give them. For a moment, Daneel thought he saw something in Bliss’s expression, a disturbance no human would have noticed. His now-limited sense of Gaia reflected what he had seen, but gave him no indication as to what that might be. Perhaps she was simply worried about Fallom.

  Once everyone was seated, Dors exited without a word, closing the door behind her. Dors had never been the easiest robot to work with; she was strong willed, and it had taken her years to fully recover from Hari Seldon’s death. For a time, Daneel had even thought she would leave him as Lodovik had. She had been created for a purpose she could no longer serve, and they had both been unsure she could be effective in any other. But she had returned, and time had shown that Dors was ready for whatever Daneel would assign her. She was not the same, and never could be. But Daneel understood her, and could use her as much as she was willing. He only hoped his last set of instructions for her would not be necessary.