David Brin - Foundation’s Triumph

It was finding out that Giskard and Daneel had proceeded down this path without consulting any humans at all. Without asking their opinions, or hearing what they might have to say.

For the first time, Dors understood some of the desperate energy and positronic passion with which so many Calvinians resisted Daneel’s cause, during the centuries that followed Earth’s demise-a civil war in which millions of robots were destroyed.

Suddenly, Olivaw’s campaign had to be judged at an entirely different level than deductive reason.

The level of right and wrong.

What arrogance, she thought. What utter conceit and contempt!

The Joan of Arc sim did not share her anger.

“There is nothing new about what Daneel and his friend did, so long ago. Since when have angels ever consulted human beings, when meddling in our fate?”

“I keep telling you. Robots are not angels! “

The chain-mailed figure smiled out of the holo display.

“Then let us just say that Daneel and Giskard prayed for, and acted on, divine guidance. Any way you look at it, don’t we fundamentally come down to a matter of faith? This insistence on reason and mutual consultation is very much the sort of thing that obsesses Lodovic and Voltaire. But I had thought you to be above such things. “

Dors uttered an oath and shut off the holo unit, wondering why she even bothered calling up the ancient sim. It was presently her only companion, and so she had summoned Joan in order to get some feedback. To get a sounding board.

But the creature seemed only interested in asking disturbing questions.

Dors was still uncertain what she planned to do when she reached her destination.

As yet, she had no plan to oppose the Immortal Servant. If she ever did confront Daneel, he could probably just talk her out of it. Olivaw’s logic was always so impeccable-as it had been in those bygone days when Earth was still green and humans still had a little control over their own lives, for well or ill.

Even now, in all likelihood, Daneel probably had the best policy for humanity’s long-range good. His vision was doubtless without flaw or blemish.

Nevertheless, Dors knew one thing for certain.

I am not working for him anymore.

At that moment, she had one paramount priority, above all else.

Dors needed to see Hari Seldon.

“What is it? Tell me!” he called after Horis, who stood staring blankly into the ship’s lounge. For the first time in days, Hari felt his age again as he hobbled next to Antic and looked inside.

Where the conference table had formerly been covered with ancient archives, still bright and crystalline after ages in space, only molten chunks of ruined matter now lay, slumped and smoldering, as the ship’s air conditioners struggled to suck away curls of black smoke.

The scream must have come from Sybyl, who was now crumpled on the floor near her precious discoveries. Nearby sat Gornon Vlimt, slumped against a wall, apparently unconscious or asleep. One of Mors Planch’s crewmen also lay in repose beyond the table, limp fingers outstretched toward a blaster.

Planch himself swayed, halfway between the table and the door. He pointed a shaking finger at Hari’s servant. Kers Kantun. who was the sole figure standing near the melted relics.

“He-”

Biron Maserd and Horis Antic watched the confrontation with expressions of mixed surprise and dismay. Neither of them moved as Mors Planch brought his right hand slowly toward the holster containing his sidearm. Cords of tension stood out on his neck and brow. expressing an acute inner struggle. Low moans escaped the raider captain. His hand curled around the weapon. and he started to draw it…

Then Mors Planch toppled. joining his colleagues on the floor.

“What is…what is…what is…” Antic kept repeating over and over. popping a calmative pill in his mouth. then another.

In contrast. Maserd maintained the characteristic aplomb of his caste. gesturing toward Hari’s blank-faced servant with a curt nod.

“Is he one of them, Seldon?”

Hari glanced at Kers, then back to Maserd.

“That is a very good inference. my lord. Are you sure you never had the fever?”

The nobleman’s eyes grew steely. hinting at the other side of the gentry personality, the part capable of deadly vendetta.

“Do not patronize me. Academician. I asked a civil question. Is your aide a…robot?”

Hari did not answer directly. He looked at Kers, his nurse-bodyguard for over a year, and let out a sigh.

“So. Daneel left one of his own behind to keep an eye on me, after all. Is that because he still cares? Or do I have some residual importance to his plans?”

Kers answered with the same deferential tone Hari had known.

“Both, Professor. As for revealing myself this way, I lacked any other choice. I had been hoping you might persuade the Ktlinans to change their minds without intervention on my part. But they were strongly motivated and undeterred. Now we have run out of time. If disaster is to be averted, we must act.”

Horis moaned.

“A r-robot? You mean one of those tiktok things that rioted on Trantor? I’ve heard stories…”

Compulsively, he popped another pill into his mouth… then another…while spiraling into a chattering panic. “Seldon, w-what’s going on here? D-d-did this thing kill Sybyl and the others? Is it going to kill us?”

“No, I assure you,” Hari began.

“Horis,” interrupted Maserd, “watch how many of those things you’re taking. You’ll overdose!”

“Yes, I am concerned that you may hurt yourself,” said Kers Kantun. He reached for the little man, who moaned and backed away, dropping a spray of blue tablets. Antic turned to run…but only made it a few paces before collapsing.

“Is he all right?” Hari asked, genuinely concerned. Maserd checked Antic’s pulse and nodded. “He appears to be sleeping.”

Then, rising to his feet, the nobleman asked, “Am I next?”

Hari shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Well, Kers? Is our lord-captain here trustworthy?”

The robot made no physical gestures of emotion, just like the Kers of old.

“I am not as fully mentalic as Daneel Olivaw, Professor. My powers are more blunt, and I cannot parse specific thoughts. But I can tell you that Biron Maserd is an admirer of both you and psychohistory. His paramount interest is safeguarding the well-being of his province and its people. Chaos is a threat to that well-being. So, yes, I believe he is an ally.

“In any event, we shall need his help if we are to act before-”

A moan lifted from the floor.

Hari glanced down in surprise to see Mors Planch roll over onto his back and start reaching for his holster again! Kers took a step toward the man, apparently focusing mentalic attention on him for a second time.

The dark spacer yelled. With a jerking spasm, the blaster flew out of his hand and across the room.

Surprisingly, Planch wasn’t quite finished. Moaning, but fierce-eyed with concentration, the captain of the raider ship got up to his knees. Then, while Hari and Maserd stared in awe, he stood the rest of the way on wobbly legs and drew back a fist.

“Madder Loss!” he cried, throwing a wild punch that Kers Kantun easily dodged.

Planch lost consciousness again that very moment, collapsing in the robot’s arms.

Cradling the man, Kers spoke with evident torment in his voice.

“A human being is injured, and I am partly responsible.”

“The Zeroth Law-” Hari began.

“It sustains me, Professor. Nevertheless, rendering Mors Planch unconscious required greater force than any of the others. They will all sleep it off without harm, but his condition is tenuous. I must care for him at once, before we get to work on matters of galactic importance.”