Foundation And Chaos (23 page)

“Is there anyplace on Trantor where anyone can be happy? Look at all this junk-a
substitute for happiness, don't you think?” She waved her hands at the plastic and
scrapwood crates stacked high over their heads.

“I wouldn't know, ” Brann said. “1 was going to say, you sound unhappy, but I'll bet you
can't think of anyplace else to go. ”

“Maybe that's why I'm unhappy, ” Klia said in a dark undertone. “I certainly feel like a
misfit. Maybe I do belong here. ”

Brann turned away with a small grunt and ordered the transport to remove a crate from the
third tier. It planted its undercarriage firmly on the floor, then raised its body on
pneumatic cylinders and deftly tugged at the crate with mechanical arms.

“Kallusin said we might be able to travel all over, ” Klia said. “If we turn out to be
loyal, is that... I mean, do you know of anyone who's left? Been assigned elsewhere?”

Brann shook his head. “Of course, I don't know everybody. I haven't been here that long.
There are other warehouses. ”

Klia had not known this. She filed the fact away, and wondered if Plussix was
orchestrating some sort of huge latent underground movement-a rebellion, perhaps. A
rebellious merchant broker? It seemed ludicrous-and perhaps the more convincing because of
that. But what would he rebel against-the very classes who clamored for his goods? Or the
noble and baronial families... who did not?

“We have what we need, ” Brann said when the transport carried three crates from three
different aisles. “Let's go. ”

“What about the police-the ones searching for me-for us?”

“Plussix says they're not looking for anybody now, ” Brann said.

“And how does he know?”

Brann shook his head. “All I know is, he's never wrong. Not one of us has ever been taken
by the police. ”

“Famous last words, ” Klia said, but she once again trotted to keep up with him.

Outside the warehouse, the daylight of the dome ceil glowed brightly. She emerged from the
cavernous interior to a brighter, larger interior-the only other kind of life she had ever
known.

Sinter paced in his small study before the wall image of the human Galaxy with its
twenty-five million inhabited worlds marked in red and green. He barely looked up as Vara
Liso entered. She immediately dropped her chin and hunched her shoulders. What she saw in
Farad Sinter was both frightening and exalting. She had never seem him more calm and
steady-not a hint of the slight frown and swagger, the false lineaments of leadership,
that he so often projected. He seemed both confident and coldly furious.

“I realize now that you've been going about this search all wrong, ” he said. “You've been
bringing me nothing but human mentalics, curious cases of course, but not what we want or
need. ”

“I was-”

He raised his hand and made a placating moue. “I accuse you of nothing. You had nothing to
work with. Now we have something-perhaps the merest something, but more than we had
before. I've intercepted a man named Mors Planch. I doubt you've heard of him. He's a very
competent fellow, with many talents-engineering among them. He tinkers all the time, I
understand. ”

Liso raised her eyebrows, meekly indicating she had no idea where all this was going.

“I tracked him after I learned that Linge Chen was using him to conduct a private search
for Lodovik Trema. Planch is on Trantor. I've spoken with him. ”

Liso had heard of Trema. Her eyebrows rose higher.

“He found Trema but did not deliver him to the Chief Commissioner. My agents learned this
much. All the rigmarole about Trema being dead, having died bravely in the service of the
Emperor-that is, the Commission of Public Safety-all nonsense. He's still alive. Rather,
he's still operating. He can't be alive. ”

Liso dropped her brows and glowered. Sinter seemed to be enjoying this chance to lay out
his schemes and successes. He fairly glowed, and she saw, written in his emotions, just
the sort of pearly cometary tail she imagined followed a leading light into the
constellations of supreme power. The thought made her shiver.

“He survived when all the others on his ship died in a neutrino flux. ”

“What is that?” Liso asked softly.

“Nothing to concern us. Fatal. Invariably. Far out between the stars, in normal space. He
survived. Planch miraculously or very skillfully found him. A competent man. I would like
to have his talent work for me. Maybe that will happen yet, but I doubt Linge Chen will
let Planch live once he discovers that he has been betrayed. Planch has some fixed notions
of justice, and it appears another contender for the person of Trema came on the scene,
and paid Planch more than Chen-so Planch took some mixed-up vengeance against Chen and
Trantor for the ruin of Madder Loss. A worthless and defiant Chaos World. ”

Vara Liso shook her head again. She knew little about such things, nor was she interested.
It made her shudder to think of death between the stars, out in the vast open, away from
any comforting interiors. She did not regard a hyper-

ship as a true environment-more of a temporary coffin.

“When Planch delivered Trema to a certain man on Madder Loss, he made a record, a secret
tape, of the proceedings. Somehow, the recording was not detected. I wonder why?” He
scratched his cheek for a moment with one finger, staring at her intently. Liso shrugged;
she could not possibly offer an explanation.

“Planch does not remember the delivery itself. But the record shows a meeting... Let me
play it for you. ”

He took out a small machine and slipped the record-more likely, she thought, a
duplicate-into the thin slot. Around them appeared a three dimensional scene, quite
convincing but for the slight reduction in resolution. She examined the two apparently
male figures from Planch's perspective. One she recognized as Lodovik Trema; the other was
tall, slender, handsome in a sort of nondescript way. She could not, of course, read their
emotions clearly, but she had the distinct impression something was not quite right. The
figures reenacted their conversation, and the more they talked, the more chilled she
became.

“/ regret to say you'll soon forget everything you saw here, and your role in rescuing my
friend as well. ”

“Friend?”

“Yes. We've known each other for thousands of years. ”

The record ended with part of a taxi ride.

Sinter regarded her curiously.

“A fraud, a joke?” she asked.

“No, ” he said. “The record is not a fake. Planch found Lodovik Trema alive. He's a robot.
This other man-he's a robot, as well. A very old one, possibly the oldest of all. I want
you to study this record. Get a feel for these humanlike robots. One or both of them are
mentalic. You have the talent to recognize them. Then-we will send you out hunting again.
You will find Eternals. Then I will have something to show the Emperor. But for now, I
have Planch and this tape, and that can take us all very far, Vara. ”

He smiled exuberantly. In his pacing, he had come quite close to her, and with a grin, he
gave her a sudden, spontaneous, one-armed hug. She looked up at him, dumfounded, and he
folded the record into her hand. She held it with bloodless fingers.

“Study, ” he ordered. “I'll wait for the right moment to convince Klayus we're onto
something. ”

The Emperor Klayus woke from a light doze in the empty bed of the seventh sleep chamber,
his favorite for afternoon liaisons. He glared around for a moment with some irritation,
then stared at the floating image of Farad Sinter. Sinter could not see the Emperor, of
course, but that did not make the interruption any less aggravating.

“Your Highness, I have a message from the Commission of Public Safety. They are about to
act on an indictment against Professor Hari Seldon. ”

Klayus lifted the curtain to the higher sleep field to look for his companion of the past
few hours, but she had left the chamber. Perhaps she was in the personal.

“Yes, and so? Linge Chen told us this might happen. ”

“Your Highness, it is premature. They are going to try him and at least one of his people.
This is a direct challenge to the privilege of the Palace. ”

“Farad, the Palace-that is, I-have long since dropped any official support, behind the
scenes, for Raven Seldon. He's an amusement, nothing more. ”

“It could be perceived as an affront, now that the move is about to be made. ”

“Move-what move?”

“Why, to discredit Seldon. If they succeed, Your Highness-”

“Stop with the titles! lust tell me what you think and get your damned image out of my
chamber. ”

“Cleon supported Seldon. ”

“I know that. Cleon wasn't even family, Farad. ”

“Seldon has ballooned that support into a project consisting of tens of thousands of
adherents and sycophants on a dozen planets. His message is treasonous, if not
revolutionary-”

“And you want me to protect him?”

“No, sire! You must not let Linge Chen take personal credit for removing this threat. It
is time to act swiftly and create the commission we have discussed. ”

“With you in charge. The Commission of General Security, right?”

“If General Security prosecutes Seldon for treason, you will get all the credit, sire. ”

“And no credit or power will go to you?”

“We have discussed this many times. ”

“Too many times. What do I care whether Linge Chen takes credit or not? If he removes this
intellectual parasite, we'll all benefit equally, don't you think?”

Farad thought this over. Klayus could see him deciding to try another tack.

“Your Majesty-this is a very complex issue, and I have many concerns. I did not wish to
bring this up so soon, but I have brought an individual back to Trantor from Madder Loss.
With your authorization. His name is Mors Planch, and he has evidence which we may add to
other evidence-”

“What, more robots, Farad? More Eternals?”

Sinter, within the artificial constraints of the image, seemed to stay calm enough, but
Klayus knew the little man was probably dancing with anxiety and anger by now. Good. Let
him build up a head of steam.

“The final pieces of the puzzle, ” Sinter said. “Before Seldon is tried on simple charges
of treason, you must examine this evidence. You may be able to limit Chen's power and add
to your own image as a resourceful leader. ”

“In my own good time, Farad, ” Klayus said in an ominous

growl. He knew what his public image was-and he knew the effective limits of his power
compared to the Chief Commissioner's. “I wouldn't want to make you into another Linge
Chen. You don't even have the restraint of being trained in an aristocratic family, Farad.
You are common and sometimes vicious. ”

Sinter appeared to ignore this, too. “The two Commissions would balance each other, sire,
and we could more effectively watch over the military ministers. ”

“Yes, but your chief concern is this robot menace. ” The Emperor swung his legs over the
field cushions and stood by the side of the bed. He had not performed well this afternoon;
his mind was tugged in all directions by a myriad of little strings and knotted threads of
statecraft and security and intrapalace plotting. Right now, his irritation focused on
Farad Sinter, a little man whose services (and women) seemed less and less satisfying, and
whose transgressions could easily become less and less amusing.

“Farad, I have seen no evidence worth the name for a year now. I do not know why I've
tolerated your behavior on this matter. You want Seldon because of his connection to the
Tiger, don't you?”

Sinter stared blankly at the sensor transmitting his image.

“For God's sake, remove the politeness censor and let me see you the way you are, ” Klayus
ordered. The image shifted and shivered, then Farad Sinter appeared in a rumpled casual
robe, his hair awry, his face red with anger. “That's better, ” Klayus said.

“She was demonstrably not human, Your Majesty, ” Sinter said. “I have secured the
documents pertaining to the murder of the Seldon Project worker Elas, and he felt the same
as I and other experts. ”

“She died, ” Klayus said. “She killed this Elas and then she died. What's to know beyond
that? Elas wanted Seldon dead. Would that I had a female so loyal. ”

He hoped his own knowledge of all these matters was not becoming too obvious; even in
front of Sinter, he hoped to maintain a little of his reputation as vain and stupid and
governed by his gonads.

“She was given an atom-dispersal burial without official supervision, ” Sinter said.

“That's the method chosen by ninety-four percent of Trantor's population, ” Klayus said,
and yawned. “Only Emperors get to be buried intact. And some faithful ministers and
councilors. ”

Sinter seemed to vibrate with frustration. Klayus found this more enjoyable then he had
the attempted mating. Where was that woman, anyway?

“Dors Venabili was not human, ” Sinter asserted with a slight sputter.

“Yes, well Seldon is. You've shown me his X rays. ”

“Subverted by-”

“Oh, for Sky's sake, Farad, shut up! I order you to let Linge Chen carry out his little
charade. We'll all watch closely and see what happens. Then we'll take some action or
another. Now leave me alone. I'm tired. ”

He blocked the image and sat back on the edge of the lower field. It took him several
minutes to restore his calm, then he thought of the woman. Where had she gotten to?

“Hello?” he called out to the empty chamber. The door to this chamber's personal was open,
and a bright light shone through.

Emperor Klayus, now eighteen standard years of age, wearing only a Serician nightgown that
hung loose from his shoulders and draped around his ankles, rolled out of the bed and
walked toward the personal. He yawned and gave a wide, bored stretch, then waved his arms
like a slow semaphore to limber up. “Hello?” He couldn't remember her name. “Deela, or
Deena? I'm sorry, darling, are you in there?”