David Brin - Foundation’s Triumph

Hari accepted this. “We know that the Grey Order does noble work. Can I assume you set the notion in Jeni Cuicet’s mind, and arranged for her to take advantage of Testing Day?”

Horis chuckled sardonically. “How do you think she got her job on the Orion elevator? We’ve been quietly spiriting away some of the Terminus exiles. A few lives spared from involuntary banishment and imprisonment, that they were sentenced to for no fault of their own!”

“You say this, even though you claim to understand the Seldon Plan?”

Another snort. “One lesson that we teach again and again in the Grey Academies-something that you preached long ago, in the guise of Ruellis-” Antic said this pointing at Daneel “-is that ends generally do not justify evil means. Anyway, grand rationalizations are for gentry and meritocrats. We Greys cannot afford them. When people’s rights are being violated, someone has to do something.”

He whirled toward Hari Seldon. “Oh, the bloody arrogance of it all. You publish scientific papers about psychohistory for decades, then suddenly go silent and set up a secret cabal to control it! But aren’t you thereby assuming that nobody on twenty-five million worlds paid attention during all the earlier years? That some nitpickers in the bureaucracy wouldn’t have seen your discovery as a possible tool to be explored…and perhaps used for better government?

“Oh, there are only a few of us that I know of, but we’ve been looking into psychohistory for more than a decade. Our respect for you, Dr. Seldon, matches anyone’s. But your Plan leaves us confused and filled with questions. Doubts we couldn’t approach you with openly.”

Hari understood. Mere bureaucrats would have been rebuffed, at best. Linge Chen and the Committee for Public Safety might arrest any clerks who knew too much. Then there were the rumors that Hari Seldon’s enemies often suffered inexplicable bouts of amnesia.

“So ask your questions now, Horis. I owe you that much.”

The small man took a deep breath, as if he had a lot to say. But at first, all he could utter was a single word.

“Why?”

He inhaled again.

“Why must the Galactic Empire topple? It doesn’t have to! True, things are loosening up. Some say falling apart. But the equations…your equations…show nothing we can’t handle with a lot of sweat and hard work. If technological competence is declining, give us resources to teach a better science curriculum! Unleash billions of bright youngsters. Stop rationing just a few measly slots at the technical schools!”

“We tried that once,” Hari started to answer. “On a planet called Madder Loss-”

But Horis cut him off, rushing forth words, mostly to Daneel.

“Even the chaos outbreaks might be controlled! Sure, they’re getting worse. But the sanitation service is also getting better all the time. and they’ve never lost a patient yet. Would you really end the empire, which has kept a gentle peace for twelve thousand years, just to keep humanity distracted for a few more centuries? Why not keep the empire going until your new solution is prepared? Is it because the people of the galaxy must be brought low, to a miserable state, so they’ll eagerly accept whatever you offer?”

It was difficult for Hari to switch modes. For so long, he had treated Horis in a patronizing manner. He now saw the Grey Man in a new light, not only as a startlingly effective secret agent, but as a rough-hewn psychohistorian-like Yugo Amaryl at the beginning of their long collaboration. One who understood more than he had ever let on.

“Do you really think imperial institutions can handle more crises like Ktlina?” Hari shook his head. “That would be taking a terrible gamble. If even a single plague site burst free to infect the galaxy…”

“If! You’re talking about people, Seldon. Almost twelve quadrillion people. Must they all be thrown into a dark age, just because you don’t trust us to do our jobs?

“Besides what if one of those new renaissances actually made it. achieving the fabulous breakthrough they all dream of. Reaching the mythical other side, where intelligence and maturity overcome chaos. If we keep them all quarantined, the galaxy can stay relatively safe. Meanwhile, experiments can be run, one planet at a time!”

Hari stared at Horis Antic, astonished by the man’s courage. I could never take such chances. He obviously hates chaos with a passion greater than mine. But he loves the empire even more.

Shaking his head again, Hari answered, “But ultimately it isn’t chaos worlds that are forcing Daneel to bring down the empire.

“It’s you, Horis.”

Such was the look of stunned surprise on Antic’s face that Hari felt unable to speak. He looked to Daneel, silently asking his robot friend to explain, which he did in a voice like Ruellis of old.

“Do not forget, my dear young human, that I invented your Grey Order. I know its capabilities. I am aware how many millions sacrifice themselves while wearing that uniform, unthanked and despised by the other castes. You might even have managed, with resiliency and a little help from psychohistory, to keep the old empire sputtering along, until my new prize-my Galaxia-is ready to be born. But therein lies the rub.”

“You see, I also remember your ancestor-whose name was Antyok-back when humanity stumbled on an actual alien race that had been spared by the terraformers. Robots from allover the galaxy convened to discuss the matter. There were just a few thousand of the alien creatures, and humanity already numbered five quadrillion. Yet, we argued for a year about the danger these beings presented. Humans in every sector and province were agog with enthusiasm to help the nonhumans get on their feet. An excitement for diversity and new voices to talk to. Some robots worried about the potential for triggering chaos. Others projected that the aliens might become a threat to humans in just a couple of thousand years if allowed to spread among the stars. Meanwhile, some, such as the robot you knew as R. Gornon, pleaded that nonhumans merited protection under an expanded version of the Zeroth Law.”

“The point is that none of our robotic deliberations ultimately mattered. News reached our secret meeting ground that the aliens had escaped! They hijacked starships that came into their possession through a twisty chain of mysterious coincidences. Investigators found more than enough blame to pass around, but they assigned none of it to the individual who was actually responsible. Your ancestor, a humble bureaucrat who knew all the right levers for manipulating the system, for getting justice done while pretending to be an innocuous, faceless official.”

It was a different version of the story Horis had told aboard ship. But Hari felt chills hearing it confirmed.

He nodded. “Your very presence here, Horis, shows this resiliency hasn’t been lost. I was First Minister of the Empire, remember? I know the data files on Trantor are limitless. Nothing can be purged from them completely. Anyone with enough skill can defeat the amnesia and find what they need to know about the human past…and now about its future, as well. You are a living demonstration of the reason for it all, Horis.”

“Me? You mean the bureaucracy? We faceless drones? We dull bean counters and pencil pushers? You mean the empire has to fall because of us?”

Hari nodded. “I never thought of it quite in that way before. But then again, I’m not the one doing the toppling.” He glanced toward Daneel. “This is all about human volition, isn’t it? It’s all about that day, in five centuries or so, when a choice must be made by a man who is never wrong. When that day comes, there must not be a galactic bureaucracy anymore. No cubicles and dusty offices to burst forth with surprise meddlers, like Horis and his friends. No prim procedures to make sure every decision is deliberated openly.