Isaac Asimov - Foundation's Edge

“On the other hand, you may find Speaker Gendibal’s mentalic field and you may then join your computer-magnified push to his. He will, in that case, surely break free of me and push me back. He may then adjust the Mayor’s mind and, in combination with her ships, establish physical domination over Gaia and assure the continued supremacy of the Seldon Plan. Gaia will not move to stop that.

“Or you may find my mentalic field and join that—and then the living Galaxy will be set in motion to reach its fulfillment, not in this generation or the next, but after centuries of labor during which the Seldon Plan will continue. The choice is yours.”

Mayor Branno said, “Wait! Do not make a decision just yet. May I speak?”

Novi said, “You may speak freely. So may Speaker Gendibal.”

Branno said, “Councilman Trevize. The last time we met on Terminus, you said, ‘The time may come, Madam Mayor, when you will ask me for an effort, and I will then do as I choose, and I will remember the past two days.’ I don’t know whether you foresaw this, or intuitively felt it would happen, or simply had what this woman who speaks of a living Galaxy calls a talent for rightness. In any case, you were right. I am asking you for an effort on behalf of the Federation.

“You may, I suppose, feel that you would like to even the score with me for having arrested and exiled you. I ask you to remember that I did it for what I considered the good of the Foundation Federation. Even if I were wrong or even if I acted out of callous self-interest, remember that it was I who did it—and not the Federation. Do not destroy the entire Federation out of a desire to balance what I alone have done to you. Remember that you are a Foundationer and a human being, that you do not want to be a cipher in the plans of the bloodless mathematicians of Trantor or less than a cipher in a Galactic mishmash of life and nonlife. You want yourself, your descendants, your fellow-people to be independent organisms, possessing free will. Nothing else matters.

“These others may tell you that our Empire will lead to bloodshed and misery—but it need not. It is our free-will choice whether this should be so or not. We may choose otherwise. And, in any case, it is better to go to defeat with free will than to live in meaningless security as a cog in a machine. Observe that you are now being asked to make a decision as a free-will human being. These things of Gaia are unable to make a decision because their machinery will not allow them to, so that they depend on you. And they will destroy themselves if you bid them to. Is that what you want for all the Galaxy?”

Trevize said, “I do not know that I have free will, Mayor. My mind may have been subtly dealt with, so that I will give the answer that is desired.”

Novi said, “Your mind is totally untouched. If we could bring ourselves to adjust you to suit our purposes, this whole meeting would be unnecessary. Were we that unprincipled, we could have proceeded with what we would find most pleasing to ourselves with no concern for the greater needs and good of humanity as a whole.”

Gendibal said, “I believe it is my turn to speak. Councilman Trevize, do not be guided by narrow parochialism. The fact that you are Terminus-born should not lead you to believe that Terminus comes before the Galaxy. For five centuries now, the Galaxy has been operating in accordance with the Seldon Plan. In and out of the Foundation Federation, that operation has been proceeding.

“You are, and have been, part of the Seldon Plan above and beyond your lesser role as Foundationer. Do not do anything to disrupt the Plan, either on behalf of a narrow concept of patriotism or out of a romantic longing for the new and untried. The Second Foundationers will in no way hamper the free will of humanity. We are guides, not despots.

“And we offer a Second Galactic Empire fundamentally different from the First. Throughout human history, no decade in all the tens of thousands of years during which hyperspatial travel has existed has been completely free of bloodshed and violent death throughout the Galaxy, even in those periods when the Foundation itself was at peace. Choose Mayor Branno and that will continue endlessly into the future. The same dreary, deadly round. The Seldon Plan offers release from that at last—and not at the price of becoming one more atom in a Galaxy of atoms, being reduced to equality with grass, bacteria, and dust.”

Novi said, “What Speaker Gendibal says of the First Foundation’s Second Empire, I agree with. What he says of his own, I do not. The Speakers of Trantor are, after all, independent free-will human beings and are the same as they have always been. Are they free of destructive competition, of politics, of clawing upward at all costs? Are there no quarrels and even hatreds at the Speaker’s Table—and will they always be guides you dare follow? Put Speaker Gendibal on his honor and ask him this.”

“No need to put me on my honor,” said Gendibal. “I freely admit we have our hatreds, competitions, and betrayals at the Table. But once a decision is reached, it is obeyed by all. There has never been an exception to this.”

Trevize said, “What if I will not make a choice?”

“You must,” said Novi. “You will know that it is right to do so and you will therefore make a choice.”

“What if I try to make a choice and cannot?”

“You must.”

Trevize said, “How much time do I have?”

Novi said, “Until you are sure , however much time that takes.”

Trevize sat silently.

Though the others were silent too, it seemed to Trevize that he could hear the pulsing of his bloodstream.

He could hear Mayor Branno’s voice say firmly, “Free will!”

Speaker Gendibal’s voice said peremptorily, “Guidance and peace!”

Novi’s voice said wistfully, “Life.”

Trevize turned and found Pelorat looking at him intently. He said, “Janov. Have you heard all this?”

“Yes, I have, Golan.”

“What do you think?”

“The decision is not mine.”

“I know that. But what do you think?”

“I don’t know. I am frightened by all three alternatives. And yet a peculiar thought comes to me—”

“Yes?”

“When we first went into space, you showed me the Galaxy. Do you remember?”

“Of course.”

“You speeded time and the Galaxy rotated visibly. And I said, as though anticipating this very time, ‘The Galaxy looks like a living thing, crawling through space.’ Do you think that, in a way, it is alive already?”

And Trevize, remembering that moment, was suddenly sure . He remembered suddenly his feeling that Pelorat, too, would have a vital role to play. He turned in haste, anxious not to have time to think, to doubt, to grow uncertain.

He placed his hands on the terminals and thought with an intensity he had never known before.

He had made his decision—the decision on which the fate of the Galaxy hung.

Mayor Harla Branno had every reason for satisfaction. The state visit had not lasted long, but it had been thoroughly productive.

She said, as though in deliberate attempt to avoid hubris , “We can’t, of course, trust them completely.”

She was watching the screen. The ships of the Fleet were, one by one, entering hyperspace and returning to their normal stations.

There was no question but that Sayshell had been impressed by their presence, but they could not have failed to notice two things: one, that the ships had remained in Foundation space at all times; two, that once Branno had indicated they would leave, they were indeed leaving with celerity.