Foundation and Chaos - Bear Greg (книга бесплатный формат txt) 📗

“Have you ever met Hari Seldon before now?”

“Never had the privilege,” the man sniffed. “I’ve heard tales, of course.”

“He knows quite well what he’s doing, and what kind of figure to play. Never underestimate him,” Gaal said, and though that was inadequate warning or description, he stopped there, and pointed to the Console.

“Right,” the technician said, and focused on his equipment. “I’ll draw the curtain now and bring in the scramblers. Nobody will know what he’s saying besides himself.”

Hari tapped his finger lightly on the chair arm. The lights on the spheres changed to amber, then to red. He pushed himself up from the chair and stared into the darkness beyond, imagining faces, people, men and women, anxious to learn their fates. Well, most of the time, for a few occasions at least, he would be able to help. The devil of it was, he did not know specifically when these little speeches would begin to be useless!

He would record only one message that day, the rest over the next year and a half, as each necessary nudge became clear within the adjusted equations.

With his most professorial air, quite confident and deliberate, Hari began to speak. He recorded a simple message to those of the Second Foundation, the psychologists and mathists, the mentalics who would train them and alter their germ lines: nothing very profound, merely a kind of pep talk. “To my true grandchildren,” he said, “I give my profoundest thanks and wish you luck. You will never need to hear of an impending Seldon Crisis from me…You will never need anything so dramatic, for you know…”

He had spoken to Wanda the day before, telling her the final part of the puzzle of the Second Foundation. At first, she had been disappointed, vastly; she had so wanted to get away from Trantor, to start fresh on a new world, however barren. But she had held up remarkably well.

And he had told her that Daneel must never learn of the true whereabouts of the Second Foundation, of the mentalics who could resist all the efforts of the Giskardian robots, should they ever return to take up the reins of secret power.

A few minutes and he was finished.

He pulled aside the blankets and draped them on the edge of the chair, then stood to leave. The three lenses rose into the darkness above.

Waiting for Gaal to join him, Hari wondered if Death would be a robot. How problematical for a robot it would be to bring both comfort and an end to a human master! He saw a large, smooth, black-skinned robot, infinitely cautious and caring, serving him and driving him to the last.

The thought made him smile. Would that the universe could ever be so caring and so gentle.

92.

Dors embraced Klia and Brann, then turned to Lodovik.

“I wish I could send a duplicate of myself with you,” she told him, “and experience what you will experience,” she said.

Beyond their fenced platform, the small trading ship of Mors Planch, glittering with recent maintenance, rested in its cradle.

“You would be most useful to us,” Lodovik said.

Klia looked around the long aisle of ships in the spaceport terminal, and asked, “He isn’t coming to see us off?”

“Hari?” Dors asked, unsure whom she meant.

“Daneel,” Klia said.

“I don’t know where he is, now,” Dors said. “He’s long had the habit of coming and going without telling anyone what he’s up to. His work is done.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Klia said, and her face reddened. She did not wish to sound like a hypocrite. “I mean…”

Brann nudged her gently with his forearm.

Mors Planch stepped forward. Lodovik still made him uneasy. Well, they would be traveling a great distance together once more. And why should he worry especially about Lodovik, when their ship would carry some fifty humaniform robots, temporarily asleep, and the severed heads of many more? A wealth of fearful riches! And his ticket to freedom, as well. “I was told to confirm our route with you, in case there were last-minute changes.”

He took out a pocket informer and displayed the route to Dors. Four Jumps, over 10,000 light-years, to Kalgan, a world of pleasure and entertainment for the Galaxy’s elite, where they (so the informer said) would drop off Klia and Brann. Then, thirty-seven individual Jumps, 60,000 light-years to Eos, where Lodovik would disembark with the robots and the head of Giskard.

Dors studied the travel chart briefly. “Still correct,” she said.

Lodovik asked, “Will you be going to Terminus?”

“No,” Dors said. “Nor to Star’s End, wherever that might be.”

“You’re staying here,” Lodovik surmised.

“I am.”

Klia said, “I’ve read about the Tiger Woman. So hard to believe that was really you. You’re staying-for Hari?”

“I will be here for him at the end. It is my highest and best purpose. I would not be much good for anything else.”

“Will Daneel let him remember, this time?” Klia asked, and bit her lower lip, nervous at such presumption.

“So it has been promised,” Dors said. “I will have my time with him.”

“And until that time?” Lodovik asked, perfectly aware that for humans, this would be a rude and intrusive question.

“That will be for me to decide,” Dors said.

“Not for Daneel?”

Dors regarded him directly, intently.

“Do you believe Daneel is finished?”

“No,” Dors said quietly.

“I cannot believe he is finished, either, or that he is done with you.”

“You have your opinions, of course. As any human should.”

Lodovik caught the implication, the edge of resentment. “Daneel regards you as human,” Lodovik said. “Does he not?”

“He does. Is that an honor, or a curse?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned to go.

Minutes later, from the observation deck looking out over the spaceport, she heard the low rumble and roar of the departing hypership, and looked up briefly to watch its course.

Wanda was none too happy at first to be escorting the young woman and her large mate from the spaceport terminal. Nor was she comfortable about this elaborate deception-who, after all, was Grandfather expecting to watch them? Demerzel?

Nothing had turned out as she hoped, and now to be nursemaid for a potential monster! But Stettin took it all stoically enough, and was well along on striking up a friendship with Brann.

Klia Asgar was another matter. Wanda thought her entirely too moody; but then, so much had changed in the young woman’s life in the past week, so many situations had been reversed, and she had taken charge in such a fortuitous and insightful way…

Perhaps there was something essential and useful in Hari’s last-minute insight and change of plan. To abandon Star’s End and the wonderful difficulties of being pioneers-for the inglorious task of hiding out for centuries, and watching the Empire collapse into ruins-riding out the Fall of Trantor, the bitter decades; for their children and grandchildren to endure not only endless discipline and training, but the meanest and most horrible centuries in history…

Had Grandfather decided all this at the last minute, or had he known all along? Hari Seldon had depths and stratagems it was best not to think about, she decided. Would he manipulate his own granddaughter, keep her in the dark-surprise and dismay her?

Obviously…

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Klia said to Wanda as they climbed into the chartered taxi. She adjusted her concealing hood, then attended to Brann’s.

“For what?” Wanda asked.

“For putting up with an out-of-control-little brat,” Klia said.

Wanda could not help but laugh.” Are you reading my mind, dear?” she asked, not sure herself what tone she intended.

“No,” Klia said. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m learning.”

“Aren’t we all,” Stettin said, and Wanda looked to her husband with a chastened respect. He had stayed so quiet during her private rants, then had gently and reasonably explained Hari’s intricate new Plan.