Foundation And Chaos (17 page)

Daneel himself had said that human minds and destiny were not easily understood by
robots-if they could be understood at all. It is madness to control and direct their
history! The overweening madness of machines out of control.

Something unfamiliar flitted across his thought processes-a vestige of the voice he had
heard earlier.

Daneel spoke to the trader captain, a small, muscular man with a ritually scarred face and
paste white skin. Daneel turned and waved for Lodovik to join him. Lodovik marched
forward. The trader captain gave him a ferocious smile.

As they boarded the ship, Lodovik looked back. Insects everywhere, on all the planets
suitable for humans, all alike, with minor local variations, mostly explainable by genetic
tinkering over the millennia. All suited to maintaining ecosystems conducive to human
civilization.

Not a wild creature on all of Madder Loss. Wild creatures could only be found on those
fifty thousand worlds put aside as hunting and zoo preserves: the garden planets so
popular with Klayus, planets where citizens could only visit with Imperial permission. He
had once overseen the budgetary allocations to

those preserves. Linge Chen had wanted to shut them down as useless expense, but Klayus
had made a direct request to save them, and there had been some ornate quid pro quo to
which Lodovik had not been privy.

Lodovik wondered how all this, garden worlds and tamed or paved-over human worlds, had
come to be. So much history unavailable to him. So many questions bubbling up now beneath
the self-imposed constraints.

The ship doors closed behind him, and he concealed an algorithmic turbulence, what in
human terms he would have called an intellectual panic-not at the closed spaces of the
ship, but at the opening flowers of curiosity within his own mind!

In their small cabin, Daneel placed their two small pieces of luggage in containment racks
and pulled down a small sitting platform. Lodovik remained standing. Daneel folded his
arms.

“We will not be disturbed, ” he said. “We can drop to our lowest level here. We should be
at the rendezvous in six hours, and on Eos within three days. ”

“How much time do we have, before you lose control of the situation on Trantor?” Lodovik
asked.

“Fifteen days, ” Daneel said. “Barring unforeseen circumstances. And there are always
those, where humans are concerned. ”

Vara Liso could hardly contain her rage. She raised her fists to Farad Sinter, who backed
off with a small, shocked grin, and circled him in the broad public-affairs office. A
number of Greys, pushing carts or carrying valises, witnessed this confrontation from the
adjoining hallway with wonder and concealed, colorless glee.

“That is idiotic!” she hissed at him, then lowered her voice. “Take off the pressure...
and they will regroup! Then they will come after me\”

The blond major, her constant and now intensely annoying shadow, danced ineffectually
around, trying to interpose himself. But Vara just as deftly maneuvered around him. Sinter
was left with the impression he was in a small and embarrassing riot. By walking crabwise
toward the open door of his secondary office, Sinter managed this small squall into a less
public container.

“You lost the trail!” he said, half bark, half sigh, as a Grey shut the door behind them.
The Grey merely glanced at the trio, then went about her duties, nonplussed.

“I was pulled away!” Vara howled. Tears started from her eyes and poured down her cheeks.
Abruptly, the major stopped his dance and stood in one spot, trembling all over, his limbs
jerking. Then, he looked for a chair, saw one in a corner, and collapsed into it. Sinter
witnessed this with wide eyes.

“Did you do that?” he asked Vara.

Vara shut her mouth with a small click of teeth, pulled back her head on its long, thin
neck, and stared at the major. “Of course not. Though he has been abominable, and
uncooperative. ”

“The strain-” the major managed between clenched, clattering teeth.

Sinter stared at her for several seconds, until Vara realized she was arousing some very
unhealthy suspicions. Major Namm shook himself, steadied, and managed to stand again,
swallowing hard. He came to attention, rather ridiculously, and focused on a wall opposite.

“How did you lose her?” Farad Sinter asked softly, looking between them.

“It was not her fault, ” the major said.

“I asked her, ” Sinter said.

“She was very fast, and she sensed my presence, ” Vara Liso began. "Your agents, your
bumbling police, weren't fast

enough to catch her-and now she's gone, and you won't let me find her]"

Sinter's lips protruded in thought, pressed together as if waiting for a kiss. It was a
ludicrous expression, and suddenly, in Vara Liso's heart, what had started out as
admiration and love flip-flopped into bitterness and hatred.

She kept her feelings to herself, however. She had already said too much, gone too far.
Did I whip that young officer? She glanced at the stiff, silent man with a small measure
of guilt. She must keep her abilities in check.

“The Emperor has specifically forbidden me from conducting any more of our searches. He
does not seem to share our interest in these... people. And for the moment, I'm not going
to press my advantage and try to convince him to change his mind. The Emperor has his
ways, and they must be observed. ” Vara stood with hands folded.

“He was convinced by Hari Seldon that this could look very bad, politically. ”

Vara's eyes widened. “But Seldon supports theml” “We don't know that for sure. ” “But they
were recruiting me! His granddaughter!” Farad reached out and took her by the wrist, then
tightened his grip ever so slightly. She winced. “That is a fact to be kept just between
you and me. What Seldon's granddaughter does may or may not be connected to the 'Raven'
himself. Perhaps the whole family is crazy, each in his unique way. ” “But we've
discussed-”

“Seldon is done for. After his trial, we can pursue those intimately connected to him.
Once Linge Chen has satisfied himself, the Emperor will likely not object to our cleaning
up the scraps. ” Sinter gave Vara Liso a pitying glare. “What is it?” she asked,
quivering. “Don't ever assume I am giving up. Ever, What I do is much too important. ”

“Of course, ” Vara Liso said, subdued. She stared down at

the plush carpet under the desk, with its weave of huge brown and red flowers.

“We'll have our time again, and soon. But for now, we simply constrain our enthusiasm and
dedication, and wait. ”

“Of course, ” Vara Liso said.

“Are you all right?” Sinter asked the young major solicitously.

“Yes, sir, ” the man said.

“Been ill recently?”

“No, sir. ”

Sinter seemed to dismiss the problem, and the officer, with a wave. Major Namm retreated
hastily, pulling the large door shut behind him without a sound.

“You've been under a strain, ” Sinter said.

“Perhaps I have, ” Vara said, her shoulders slumping. She smiled weakly at him.

“A little rest, some recreation. ” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a credit chit.
“This will get you into the Imperial Sector retail emporium. A little discreet shopping,
perhaps. ”

Vara's forehead furled. Then her face went smooth and she took the chit and smiled. “Thank
you. ”

“It's nothing. Come back in a few days. Things might have changed. I'll assign a different
officer to protect you. ”

“Thank you, ” Vara Liso said.

Sinter touched her chin with one finger. “You are valuable, you know, ” he said, and was
secretly disgusted by the look of sheer need on the woman's exceedingly unattractive face.

Though he would go before the Commission of Public Safety alone, Hari knew very well that
he needed legal coaching behind the scenes. That did not stop him from hating his meetings
with his counsel, Sedjar Boon.

Boon was an experienced lawyer with a fine reputation. He

had received his training in the municipality of Bale Nola, in Nola Sector, under tutors
with many decades of experience dealing with the tortuous laws of Trantor, both Imperial
and Citizen.

Trantor had ten formal constitutions and as many sets of laws drawn up for its various
classes of citizens; there were literally millions of commentaries in tens of thousands of
volumes on how the sets of statutes interacted. Every five years, around the planet, there
would be new conventions to amend and update the laws, many of them broadcast live like
sporting events for the enjoyment of billions of Greys, who relished dusty and
relentlessly detailed legal proceedings far more than they did physical sports. It was
said this tradition was at least as old as the Empire, perhaps much older.

Hari was grateful that some aspects of Imperial law were private.

Boon spread his new research results on the desk in Hari's library office and glanced with
raised eyebrows at the active Prime Radiant perched near one corner. Hari waited patiently
for the lawyer to get his autoclerks and filmbook readers aligned and in tune with each
other.

“Sorry this takes so long, professor, ” Boon said, sitting opposite Hari. “Your case is
unique. ”

Hari smiled and nodded.

“The laws under which you have been brought before the Judiciary of the Commission of
Public Safety have been modified forty-two thousand and fifteen times since the code-books
were first established, twelve thousand and five years ago, ” Boon said. "There are three
hundred modified versions still regarded as extant, active, and relevant, and often they
contradict each other. The law are supposed to apply equally to all classes, and are all
based on Citizen law, but... I don't need to tell you the application is different. As the
Commission of Public Safety has assumed its charter under Imperial canon, it may choose
from any of these sets of codes. My guess is they will try you under several sets at once,
as a meritocrat or even an eccen-

trie, and not reveal the specific sets until the trial is underway. I've chosen the most
likely sets, the ones that give the Commission the greatest leeway in your case. Here are
the numbers, and I've provided filmbook excerpts for your study-"

“Fine, ” Hari said without enthusiasm.

“Though I know you won't even bother glancing at them, will you, professor?”

“Probably not, ” Hari admitted.

“Sometimes you seem incredibly smug, if I may say so. ”

“The Commission will try me as they see fit, and the outcome will be to their best
advantage. Has there ever been any doubt about that?”

“Never, ” Boon said. “But you can invoke certain privileges that could delay indefinitely
execution of any sentence, especially if one of the sets incorporates the independence of
the University of Streeling, as per the Meritocrat and Palace Treaty of two centuries ago.
And you do face charges of sedition and treason-thirty-nine such charges, at the moment.
Linge Chen could easily have you executed. ”

“I know, ” Hari said. “I've faced the courts before. ”

“Never under the rule of the Chief Commissioner. He is known to be a devious and exacting
scholar of jurisprudence, professor. ”

The informer on Hari's desk chimed, and a text message rolled across its small display. It
was a list of meetings for the week, the most important of which was in less than an hour,
with an offworld student and mathist named Gaal Dornick.

Boon was still speaking, but Hari held up his hand. The counselor stopped and folded his
arms, waiting for his client's thought processes to reach a conclusion.

Hari's hands, mottled with age spots, reached briefly for a small gray pocket computer,
and he did some calculations there. He then placed the computer in its port niche beside
the Prime Radiant. The projected results filled half the rear wall of the room, and were
very pretty, but meant nothing to Boon.

They meant a great deal to Hari. He became agitated and stood, pacing near a false window
that showed open-air fields on his home world of Helicon. If one had known where to look
in the false window, one could have seen Hari's father tending gene-tailored
pharmaceutical-producing plants in the far distance. He had brought the image with him
from Helicon, decades before, yet had only mounted it in this large frame a year ago. His
thoughts were increasingly of his mother and father now. He glanced at the distant figure
in that faraway place and time, wrinkled his brow, and said, “Who's the best young
counselor on your staff? Not too expensive-not as expensive as you!-but every bit as good?”

Boon laughed. “Are you thinking of changing counsel, professor?”

“No. I have a very important member of my staff arriving soon, a fine young mathist. He
will be arrested almost immediately, because of his association with me. He will need
counsel, of course. ”

“I can take him on as well, professor, with little increase in fees, if that's your
concern. If your cases are parallel-”

"No, Lings Chen will lay waste all around me if he can, but

in the end, he won't touch me. I'll need to protect my best people to carry on after the
Commissioners have passed judgment. "

Boon scowled deeply and flung up a hand. “Professor Sel-don, your reputation as a prophet
is much too widespread for my professional comfort. But how in the name of all that is
Cosmic can you know this about the Chief Commissioner?”

Hari's eyes seemed for a moment almost to start out of his head, and Boon leaned forward
in his chair, clearly worried for the old man's health.

Hari took a deep breath and relaxed. “It is a Cusp Time, ” he said. “I could explain it to
you, but it would bore you as much as this legal mumbo-jumbo bores me. I put up with you
and credit you with knowing your profession, counselor. Please put up with me under the
same terms. ”

Boon pressed his lips together and squinted dubiously at his client. “My partner's son,
Lors Avakim, is a smart young fellow. He's worked for some years in Imperial
constitutional law, with a sideline in cases adjudicated by the Commission of Public
Safety. ” “Avakim... ” Hari had hoped for this name to be mentioned. It simplified things
considerably. He knew that Boon was a good counselor, but suspected Boon was not as
independent as might be wished. Lors Avakim was a prospective mem-, ber of the
Encyclopedia Project, legal division. He had applied last year. He was idealistic, fresh,
not yet corrupted. Hari doubted that Boon knew of this connection to the Project. “Can he
dance well enough to keep my mathist out of real trouble with these buffoons?” “I think
so, ” Boon said.