“Of course there had to be a spy,” Hari said, cutting off Maserd’s protestations. “Someone who knew about the Thu

martin Nebula, for instance. We didn’t stumble on the archives and terraformers by accident.

“And there were other clues. When Sybyl and the real Gornon Vlimt started accessing those ancient records, you already knew more about human history than any professor at an imperial university.”

“As I explained earlier, Seldon, noble families often have private libraries that might surprise members of the meritocracy. My family has a traditional interest in such matters as-”

“As the systems of government used on ancient Earth? That kind of knowledge is remarkable. Even incredible. Then there were thetilling machines that got Horis so excited… those vast devices used long ago to prepare worlds for human occupation. Your reaction to them was hardly indifferent… as if you were looking at an old, familiar enemy.”

This time Biron Maserd smiled, not bothering to refute Hari’s assertion. “Is it a crime to wish the universe had more diversity in it?”

Hari chuckled. “To a psychohistorian, it’s damn near blasphemy. The galaxy is already so complicated, the equations almost burst at their seams. And that’s with just humanity to deal with. We mathists would much rather simplify!

“No. I didn’t notice all the clues because I had become so fixated on chaos. Sybyl, Planch, and the others presented such a threat. When Kers Kantun told me you were an ally…that you hated chaos as much as anybody-”

“I do!”

“I took that to mean that you were a practical man of the empire, as you styled yourself. But now I see you are another utopian, Maserd. You think humanity can escape chaos, if only it experiences just the rightkind of renaissance!”

Biron Maserd stared at Hari for a long, drawn-out moment, before answering. “Isn’t that what the Seldon Plan is all about, Professor? Fostering a human society that will be strong enough to take on the ancient enemy lurking in our own souls?”

That was my old dream,Hari answered silently.Though until just the last few days, I had thought it obsolete.

Aloud he gave Maserd a different answer, aware that others were watching and listening.

“Like many gentry, you are ultimately a pragmatist, my lord. Lacking mathematical tools, you try one thing after another, abandoning each failed solution only when forced to concede that it is time to try another.” Hari gestured toward the two cyborg women-Zorma and Cloudia, one of whom had been born human and the other with a positronic brain tuned to the Laws of Robotics. Only now they had begun blurring the distinction.

“Are you involved in this radical project, or are you merely working together, as a matter of temporary convenience?”

Apparently accepting the inevitability of Hari’s conclusions, Maserd gave up with a sigh.

“Our groups have known about each other for a long time. My family-” He nodded grimly. “We were among those who cast forth the archives, long ago, fighting desperately against the spreading amnesia. And we waged war against the terraforming machines! It was futile, for the most part. But we won a few victories.”

It was Horis Antic who asked the next question in a hushed voice. “Whatkind of victories? You mean you battled robots and won?”

“How can you fight beings who are so much more powerful, and righteously certain they have your own best interests at heart? Still, we managed to stop the horrible machines a few times, by rushing ahead and landinghuman colonists on a world slated for terraforming. Several times that stymied the tillers, who could not blast a planet with human inhabitants.”

Mors Planch blinked. “Wouldn’t we all know about such places?”

“We struck a deal with Daneel Olivaw, after the robotic wars ended. We agreed to stop fighting the amnesia, and to let the protected worlds be put in quarantine. In return, he left us unaltered, with our memories intact. The ultimate price was passivity. To remain silent and inactive.” Maserd’s jaw clenched. “Still, as long as the Galactic Empire ran smoothly, it was a better alternative than ruin and chaos.”

“Your role in this affair could hardly be called passive,” Hari pointed out.

Maserd apparently agreed. “The empire is falling apart. All the old bargains appear forfeit. Everybody seems to be waiting for Daneel Olivaw to present a plan-even the Calvinians”-Maserd jerked a thumb toward R. Gornon Vlimt-”are too timid to oppose their old foe directly. All they want to do is throw Hari Seldon forward in time, as if that will ensure everything comes out all right.” Maserd barked a short laugh.

The robot who had replaced the eccentric Gornon Vlimt stepped forward. For the first time, its emulation programs mimicked a human wracked with uncertainty.

“Don’t you think Olivaw will come up with something beneficial to humanity’s long-range good?”

A woman’s voice chuckled.

“So it comes down to that?” Zorma asked. “Despite all your secret schemes, you really are a timorous bunch of little tiktoks. Listen to yourself, pinning your hopes on someone you’ve fought for so long. Why, you just cited Daneel’s Zeroth Law!”

Zorma shook her head. “There are no more true Calvinians.”

Hari had no intention of letting the conversation dissolve into ideological arguments between robots. He also cared little whether Biron Maserd had been spying all along.

In fact, he wished the nobleman well. What really mattered right now was the decision he had to make. The immediacy of which was clear when R. Gornon’s assistant hurried into the tent.

“Preparations are complete. In less than an hour the moment will come. It is time to ascend the scaffolding.”

And so, with his decision still not made, Hari joined a procession leading through the lanes of the ancient university. His footsteps were partly illuminated by a crescent moon, and by a luminous skyglow emitted when oxygen atoms were struck by gamma rays rising from the ground below. As he moved along, feeling creaky with age, Hari felt a nagging need to talk to somebody he could trust.

Only one name came to mind, and he murmured it under his breath. “Dors!”

The last thing he expected was for this to turn into a ceremonial occasion. But a procession of Earthlings accompanied Hari and the others on their way to the sarcophagus. The natives chanted an eerie melody-at once both dirgelike yet strangely auspicious, as if expressing all their hopes for some eventual redemption. Perhaps the song was many thousands of years old, dating from even before humanity climbed out of its gentle cradle to assault the stars.

Accompanying R. Gornon and Hari were the “deviant” cyborgs, Zorma and Cloudia, with Biron Maserd now striding openly beside them. At Hari’s insistence, Wanda Seldon and Gaal Dornick had also been wakened to join the entourage, though Wanda had been warned not to attempt mentalic interference. Some of the robots present had similar abilities, enough to counter any efforts she might make.

Hari’s granddaughter looked unhappy, and he tried to reassure her with a gentle smile. Raised as a meritocrat, Hari had always expected to adopt rather than father children of his own. And yet, few joys in his life had matched that of being a parent to Raych, and then grandparent to this excellent young woman, who took so seriously her duties as an agent of destiny.

Horis Antic had asked to be excused-ostensibly to pursue his research-though Hari knew the real reason. The. glowing “space-time anomaly” terrified Horis. But Gornon did not want to leave anyone behind in camp, so Antic shuffled along, just behind the prisoner Mors Planch. Even the survivors of the Ktlina renaissance accompanied the procession, though Sybyl and the others seemed hardly aware of anything except a raucous murmur of voices in their own heads.