“Zorma is also pretty sure they have big plans for your former husband.”
Dors detected a little stress on the word “former,” and wondered why Lodovic chose to emphasize that point.
The nearby holographic unit, where she stored the Joan of Arc sim, emitted an eager microwave impulse, reminding Dors of a promise she had made.
Joan wants to contact the version of Voltaire that Lodovic carries in his mutated positronic brain. As if I’d trust the two of them together.
That provoked a stray thought.
What would Daneel think, knowing that Lodovic and I have teamed up, even distrustfully?
She shook her head.
“Do you know anything else about the cult that took Hari?”
“Not much, except that they aren’t cautious or responsible, like Zorma’s group, or simple fanatics, like Plussix’s. In fact, Dors, they’re the kind you might have predictedI’d wind up with! Very sophisticated. Clever. Technologically adept.”
Lodovic’s smile was grim.
“And from almost any point of view, Dors, they are quite certifiably insane.”
3.
Over the course of two days, Mors Planch made four escape attempts. Each time he was foiled, the space pilot grew more cheerful and, strangely, more confident.
Either the man is going crazy before our eyes,Hari reflected with some fascination. Orelse it’s all part of a plan…try one thing after another in order to bracket the robots’ capabilities. Learn their limitations. Either way, it’s a wonder to behold.
The latest attempt involved Planch accoutering himself in a makeshift garment made of insulation foil stripped off the villa’s central ducting system. Who knew where the fellow came up with the ingenious notion, but he managed to walk past several layers of security sensors and reached the road leading toward Pengia Town before one of Gornon’s robot assistants spotted him visually. Politely and gently, but with irresistible strength, the humanoid took Planch’s arm and led him back inside. With the hood of his homemade stealth garment thrown back, grinning lopsidedly at Sybyl and Maserd and the others, he marched back into captivity, acting as if he, and not the robot, were in charge.
Of course this is a farce,Hari thought.Our captors have the ability to subdue Planch any number of ways, from sedating him to altering his memories. So why don’t they? Is Gornon trying to demonstrate something, through his forbearance?
Hari found himself rooting for Mors Planch, especially since it wouldn’t matter much if the man did get away. As an outlaw, the raider captain could hardly go to the police or galactic news media with his wild story. And it was probably too late for him to affect Ktlina’s renaissance, whose doom was already a. foregone conclusion. Anyway, since these robots were avowedly opponents of Hari’s friend, Daneel, he didn’t owe them anything. In fact, he had every reason to delay their departure from Pengia.
Hari had an idea how to achieve that.
“I must insist that we bring the young lady with us, on our journey,” he told Gornon, late on the second day. “You said Trantor would be our ultimate destination, after the next stop. Jeni belongs with her parents. We have no right to leave her among strangers, stranded in some galactic backwater.”
The robot Gornon demurred.
“She is still recovering from her illness.”
“The local doctors broke her fever, and she seems past the crisis.”
“Yes, but the next phase of our voyage may involve danger. There will be upsetting situations before Trantor finally comes into view. Are you willing to put the young woman through that, Professor?”
R. Gornon’s vague but ominous description of their coming journey made Hari even more eager to delay these Calvinian zealots, in hope that Daneel’s forces would arrive in time.
“You have met and spoken with Jeni,” he told Gornon. “She’s exceptional in many ways. Her destiny ultimately lies on Terminus, where the Foundation will have great need of resourceful people like her.”
In fact, Hari knew better. While Jeni would make a wonderful citizen of the bold new civilization that was being founded at the galaxy’s far periphery, she wasn’t essential. No individual was. The equations of psychohistory would operate with or without her, unfolding as he had foreseen. At least for the first two or three centuries.
Still, Hari had come to realize that R. Gornon was quite different from the Calvinians back on Trantor. This fellow’s sect did not oppose the Seldon Plan. In fact, Gornon clearlyapproved, at some level. So Hari’s argument carried weight.
“Very well then, Professor. We will give her another day of rest. Then we must depart, whether she is ready or not.”
Hari could tell this was the limit of Gornon’s flexibility.
Well, Daneel, I’ve given you one more day to find us. But you better hurry.
One question he refrained from asking. Why had the robot not simply used some of the “supermedical technologies” to cure Jeni right away? Clearly this particular cult believed in a minimalist approach, interfering in human affairs only insofar as it was absolutely necessary to achieve their goals.
Perhaps that’s why they did so little to me in their magical rejuvenation machine. Whatever I’m supposed to do for them can be accomplished in the next few weeks. No sense in giving additional decades to an old bastard like me, when a month or two will do.
4.
Zun Lurrin observed Daneel’s ship streak away from Eos, briefly illuminating the lake of frozen mercury with its actinic flare. He watched until the speedy vessel made its first hyperspace jump, swooping toward the galaxy’s shimmering wheel. Without having to navigate dust lanes or fight the gravity eddies of ten billion stars, the craft should make excellent time streaking toward its destination.
A message from one of Daneel’s agents had provoked the leader of all Zeroth Law robots into a blur of activity, rushing through preflight operations and departing with only a few words of instructions for Zun.
“I’m leaving you in charge,” the Immortal Servant had said. “Here are access codes to my personal data files, in case I don’t return at the expected time.”
“Is the situation truly so dire?” Zun had asked, with concern.
“Several forces are at work, some of which are not easily factored into my calculations. I would guess there is a small but significant chance that I will fail.
“Even if I do, however, the plan we have been discussing here must not! The ultimate hope for human happiness lies within our grasp. But it is, as yet, a slender prospect. There will be many crises before our masters finally unify, coalesce, achieve their true potential, and take command once again.”
Only an hour later, Zun watched with eyes that were capable of detecting even the backwash ripples of Daneel’s hyperspatial wake. He now shared the same vision, the same determination, as his leader.
“I will not let you down,” he murmured with a mentalic benediction. “But do not fail to return, Daneel. Yours is not a burden that I would carry easily.”
5.
To pass their third and final day, Hari asked for an excursion through Pengia Town. He wanted one last look at normal galactic society-where the old empire still functioned smoothly-hoping to check out a notion or two about psychohistory. R. Gornon Vlimt personally accompanied Hari, piloting an open touring car of the kind favored by minor planetary gentry.
It wasn’t much of a municipality, less than a million, with most of that dispersed in cozy little cantons, each one somewhat self-contained. Although Pengia’s economy was primarily agrarian, there were a few factories, to produce the machines that made life comfortable-from cooler units to home amusement centers-designs that had changed only incrementally across hundreds or even thousands of years. After ages of gradual refinement, most of the tools people used were outstandingly durable, taking centuries to wear out. Buying a replacement was unusual, perhaps even a little shameful, like not taking proper care of a family heirloom. Hence, only a few sophisticated factories were needed to supply the planet’s needs.