FOUNDATION'S MARTYRS

Summary:
Speaker Minna joins a risky mission to save the Second Foundation. Based on Asimov's Second Foundation, Chapter 21, The Answer That Satisfied andfollowing chapter. Note: contains SPOILERS for the book 'Second Foundation".

Tags; second foundation, First Speaker, preem palver, violence, death, political strife

Galactic Encyclopedia, Cliff Notes version Entry #3
Professor Hari Seldon created two Foundations, to reestablish civilization after the fall of the galactic empire… The First Foundation, now a powerful city-state, began to feel threatened by the existence of the Second Foundation: a secret group of telepathic psychohistorians tasked with keeping Seldon's Plan on track.…

CHAPTER 1: MINNA

Eight year old Minna gazed at the black cube. "It doesn't look like much.".

Her father chuckled. "Watch." He tapped a corner with a fingertip. A luminous series of equations emanated from its corners and swirled across the walls. The display resembled a lush tree with endless subsets branching off the main trunk. "This, my dear, is called the Prime Radiant."

"Ah. It's beautiful," said the child. "What does it mean?"

Minna's father, Preem Palver, put his arm around her. "These are the calculations of Seldon's plan. They describe how we can create a better future for mankind. A future with no war."

"War. You mean like the Sack of Trantor?"

There was nothing the people of Trantor feared more than war. Children and adults still had nightmares about the great Sack of Trantor, almost 100 years ago. Trantor had been the glorious capital of a galactic empire...until greedy warlords had reduced the planet to a pile of rubble and ruins, where pathetic survivors scratched for a living.

Even today life was sparse at Scholars' Village, where Minna and her community farmed by day and studied by night in the remnants of the old Imperial Library.

Minna's childhood was full of stories about the sack and the heroic defenders. Also tales of the wise Hari Seldon, who had warned people about the Sack and created the Foundation to escape it. And how the Foundation now lived far off at the edge of the galaxy, waiting to rescue everyone someday.

"Papa, why didn't we leave before the Sack, like the Foundation?"

"Because Seldon meant for us to stay. We are the Second Foundation."

Minna practiced her mental disciplines and took the Oath when she was 12, becoming formally inducted into the Second Foundation. And for the next several decades she excelled at her Scholars' levels. Her area of specialty was political and religious cults of the last 12,000 years of galactic history.

The day her son Joram turned 18, she worked on her top Scholar level finals. Every Scholar was required to add something to the Prime Radiant. She sat crocheting, while running her qualifying thesis thru her mind. Handiwork was the best way to memorize and focus her thoughts.

"Quadrant E47, Level 42A of the Radiant. The equations represent the Outsider Problem. If a culture relies for its cohesion on hatred of the outsider, calculate the probability of each projected outcome, and its time of fruition. Compare with Seldon's analysis in Folio 1510.

Her son came in with a half-built solar panel.

"Joram, aren't you supposed to be working on your first-level Scholar studies?"

The young man shrugged. "I tried, but the numbers won't come out."

"Oh, by the Darkstar. You're a smart fellow but you just don't have the makings of a Scholar."

"Yeah. I'd rather build things, like my dad used to. Why do we have to learn so much about psychohistory? I wish I could learn about electrons."

Minna sighed. "Did you ever think about the similarities between psychohistory and electronics? They are both about pathways for directing a flow of energy. Certain components cause the flow to build up or fade or turn at certain points. Humanity is a flow of energy too, just like electricity."

"I suppose you're right. But...electronics is so much simpler."

"Oh dear. You take after your father. I think he had a rogue Trader for an ancestor."

Joram's father, Pel Eksteen ,had been killed during a scavenging expedition in the ruins of Dahl Sector.

CHAPTER 2: SPEAKERS TABLE

Over the next few months, the Outsider Problem became the main topic of discussion at the Speakers' Table, in a chamber hidden deep within the Imperial Library.

The Speakers' Council was made up of those most skilled in scholarship, wisdom and the mentalic arts. These were the leaders who made critical decisions about major actions, Persuasions and adjustments to the Plan.

By this time Minna's father Preem Palver had become First Speaker. He began the discussion by activating the Prime Radiant. The sea of equations swirled about the room, as luminous as the Galaxy itself.

Their deliberations occurred mostly on the mentalic level, where knowledge could be shared much more quickly and completely than with words alone. A simple word or gesture would convey volumes of thought. But translation of their meeting into words might go something like this:.

"Colleagues, we are here to discuss the major deviation from the Seldon Plan."

Preem Palver radiated a jolly good nature—when he was home doing his farm chores. But the Table was different. Everyone who entered this room took on the solemnity of the bearers of Seldon's heritage. The Speakers of the Second Foundation bore the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders.

"This section deals with everything that has happened in the 50 years since the Mule appeared to spread chaos across the galaxy." He pointed to a crimson node which emanated from the Prime Radiant. It stood for the Mule, a mental mutant who could control armies with his mind and make enemies worship him. "This shows his conquest of the First Foundation, and how we were forced to intervene. As a result, Terminus has become aware of our existence."

Minna, now age 45 and a third level Speaker, looped a strand of blue yarn around her hook. Crocheting helped her mind focus, and she missed nothing.

Scholar Emil stroked his neat white beard and squinted at the equations. "Ah yes. Now that the First Foundation has deduced that we exist to guard the Plan, they are becoming complacent. No need to exert themselves...they think we'll protect them every time they stub their toes."

Minna hid a grin. Emil was the only one who dared to joke at the Table.

"Yes. This has happened, to some degree. But now the report is, some of them have begun to think we're the enemy."

Minna put aside her yarn and stood by the display. "Colleagues, this has been my area of study. Mentalic abilities are so misunderstood, and people fear what they don't understand. We have become the bogeyman-the ones that scare children." She traced a subset depicted on Level 9. "Such a fear can easily be exploited, as illustrated by my calculations here."

"Fancy the irony," said Scholar Lessam. "The First Foundation is light-years ahead of us in technical achievements. Their ships could wipe us out in an hour. Yet they're quivering in terror. They fear us more than the Mule."

The fools! Terminus would not exist, if not for our protection. This thought came from Scholar Emil and was quickly buried. Preem Palver raised an eyebrow and continued looking through his notes.

"Our agents report that Terminus is actively searching for us," said the First Speaker, "and if they discover our location, some of them would like to blast us off the map. This report here says that their scientists are investigating mental science, attempting to build neuro-electronic devices to use against us."

"How seriously do you estimate the danger?" Scholar Sharl, a slim woman with her white hair caught in a bun, clenched her fingers together.

"First, consider the danger to the Seldon Plan if our guardianship becomes known known," said the First Speaker. "But secondly...if we don't take action, there is a 90 percent certainty that the First Foundation will discover our location and attack within 5 years. The Great Sack will be re-enacted here at Scholars' Village and possibly the whole planet."

The shock of this statement froze the listeners into stillness, until Emil asked: "What can be done?"

The First Speaker enlarged another series of equations. "Consider the Rossem Expedition as a basis for a new mission."

He outlined his idea and some of the Council found it abhorrent.

"It's barbarous. An abomination!"

"What if something goes wrong?"

"Consider the effects on the First Foundation as well."

"Colleagues," said the First Speaker, "it's risky, but even worse would be to do nothing. We must protect the existence of our Foundation, and in fact our physical lives as well. Not only would our deaths be a tragic loss for ourselves, but also it would mean the end of Seldon's plan...and any hope of a peaceful future for the galaxy."

They spent several weeks arguing and calculating. The Council estimated that the scheme had only a 60 percent chance of success. "That will have to do," said Preem Palver, "if the Galactic Spirit is willing."

People still invoked the Galactic Spirit, in times of trouble.

Over the next few years the preliminaries were assembled. Messages were sent out, offworld associates contacted. Like a large jigsaw puzzle, pieces were put into place.

"We will have to Persuade a number of key people, causing events to come to fruition at the proper time. And we will have to assemble a large group of volunteers." "What kind of people? Our most talented Persuaders? Best psychohistorians?"

"Not necessarily. Also consider who will adapt best to mental conditioning."

Scholar Tomar spoke up. "I suggest mental plasticity as well. A few young folks. A wild card."

"Explain."

"It is an unpredictable factor, as in a game of chance."

An eyebrow was raised. "Yes, Scholar Tomar, we know that you occasionally indulge in such pastimes."

"Purely a computational exercise," Tomar defended himself.

Of course, came a flicker of humor.

"Our Colleague is correct though. We are too dependent on calculation. All circumstances can't be predicted. Consider the role of chaos as well."

"Seldon didn't believe in chaos. He said that what seems chaotic is just rules we don't yet understand. A fractal is-"

"Colleagues, can we get back to the point?"

Minna spoke up. "I'll volunteer to lead the mission."

Papa stared at her. She could feel the start of his protest. No! You can't leave...

"Speakers, this is my area of study —the Outsider problem. I'm the most qualified and that's that."

Her father slanted an eyebrow and she knew what it meant: What about your boy Joram? He already lost his father—you can't leave him too!

Minna looked away. Everyone knew that emotions were put aside when there was a mission to be done.

"It was my clever idea," said Emil, "so I'm on the list."

"No, it was my idea," said Scholar Sharl.

The comments continued on the mentalic level: We all have to take the blame.

There's no blame. It's simple psychohistory.

CHAPTER 3 JORAM

A core group of volunteers assembled quickly, but it was necessary to recruit others. Joram sat with his cousin Kav, and Kav's sweetheart Amie, at the weekly community meeting. Though he was no Persuader, he had enough mentalic ability to sense the mood of the room. This would not be a normal meeting.

His grandfather Preem Palver wasted no time explaining the problem. "The Second Foundation is facing a threat to its existence, and so we are sending a group of volunteers to go offworld on a critical mission. It has to be a fairly large group...around fifty. It will be mostly Scholars with some gravitas, but we should have some people from the community too."

Joram's pulse quickened. He had never been offworld. His world was a small village, huddled in the ruins of the Imperial sector. By day they farmed grain in the former student greenspaces and the gaps between the ruins. By evening they met in the vast, quiet Imperial Library to study, learn, to practice mentalic disciplines and gifts. He had never seen a shiny aircar or sleek jump ship, or any other technical wonder that wasn't ruined, broken or rusty.

"Is this like the Rossem Mission?" asked tall lanky Kav, who had already passed his 2nd level Scholar exams. "Yes and no," said Preem Palver. "Your grandpa survived the Mission to Rossem, and we are grateful for his service." For three years, the Rossem volunteers had lived on a poor and miserable planet to deceive the mighty Mule. At serious risk of life, they had confronted and defeated him.

"As with Rossem, volunteers will face mental alteration, and quietly blend in with the populace," said Preem. "But in this case…" his features began to change, as he tried to control his emotion, "your chance of survival is less than 10 percent. And even then...there will likely be no return." "So," said Kav, "this is a suicide mission. "Oh well, sign me up, cause I'm brave and foolish"...and I imagine myself as a heroic space pilot battling Imperial warships, the thought-image continued. A lie was, of course, impossible.

"Hey!" Amie grabbed his arm. "If you go, I go."

The First Speaker kept his emotions barriered. "Anyone who volunteers, must love the Seldon Plan enough to make the ultimate sacrifice. We already have our core group, to be led by Speaker Minna-"

"Wait-" Joram interrupted. "Mom? You're going? How did you hide that…?"

While a person could not lie to the Colleagues, one could sometimes hide the truth. "If you go, then I'm going too."

"Joram! Don't be silly," Kav whispered, "they won't want you. Your scores are a disgrace."

He's right, Joram thought. His scores in the mentalic arts were in the lowest rank. A real disappointment to the eminent Palver family line.

A sort of gay bravado rose up when people were faced with an existential threat.

"Battleships from Terminus could attack any day," people said.

"I still don't understand why we can't fight back," Joram said.

"With what?" Kav gave him a poke. "Rusty old grain-transport ships? Oh, you mean our Speakers' great Persuasion powers?" he tapped his forehead. "Nope, those won't work against machine-triggered pulse-cannons from space."

And there was nothing more threatening than the collective memory of invasion from above.

Joram loved the book film tales about the defenders who had saved the Library during the Sack of Trantor. He also liked the Foundation tales about the Traders and soldiers who had risked death to defy the Empire. And of course the Seldon Plan itself was about being a hero and a Good Guy. Saving the Galaxy!

Every potential volunteer had to be examined by the Council. 'Examined' meant a complete mentalic probe. Any deception, any weakness, would be detected.
"Joram, explain why you want to give up your life. Saying that you're bored with life on Trantor and want to see Terminus isn't enough of a reason."

Joram sat up straighter. "Speakers...you know that everyone must make a contribution to our Foundation. Some add a calculation to the Radiant. Others go on dangerous Persuasion missions." His fingers twisted a coil of wire. "Our history is full of heroes and sacrifice, but what can I do? I have almost no mentalic ability and I'm no good at Scholarship either. If there's anything that I can do, then...please let me do it."

The Examiners gazed at him, with their chins resting on their hands.

"I...I lost my father when I was 4. You think I could live knowing that my mother is gone too?"

One of the Examiners faced another. I sense something in this boy. There is something different about him. He may play a key part in all of this.

Intuition, Speaker?

I don't know. We must be humble and admit

that we don't know everything. The whole universe isn't contained in this… he touched the Radiant.

CHAPTER 4 DEPARTURE

"I forbid it!" Minna stabbed a crochet hook into a ball of yarn. "You're not going!"

"If you go, I'm going. My father is dead and I'm not losing my mom too."

"Papa!" Minna turned to her father Preem, the boy's grandpa. "Tell him he can't go. He has no Persuasion ability. Couldn't make a cat climb a tree."

"I'm sorry." Papa looked at the floor. "He was the wild card."

Minna snapped out a thread of mentalic irritation which would roughly translate as something like Go milk a cow.

After the examination, came the briefing.

"For this mission, " said the neuro-electronic specialist Dr. Abek, "a new identity and memories will be implanted in your brain."

"Where are we going? Rossem?" Kav asked.

"No. You're going to Terminus. You'll be put to sleep, and given a deep mind block. When you awake, you will believe you have always lived there. You'll have a job, and papers. Any gaps in your memories will be explained by a recent bout of brain-virus."

Joram smiled. Everybody dreamed of visiting Terminus, the capital of the fabled First Foundation!

"And what will we be doing?" asked Breen, the artist.

"Simply carrying on quietly, meeting and practicing your disciplines. You will believe that your group, the 50 of you on Terminus, are the entire Second Foundation."

"Oh. Decoys, like Rossem," said Kav. "Then who do we Persuade? Politicians? The Mayor?"

"No one." Abek blinked: the only sign of emotional turmoil. "Terminus authorities will find you, and...if all goes according to plan, they'll think they've found our entire organization, and stop searching any farther."

"And what happens after that?" asked Joram.

Abek blinked twice. There was no way to hide or disguise this part. "You will probably die, just like soldiers in war."

"But there's no hope of rescue?"

"Th-that would probably negate the whole point of the mission." Abek seemed to have trouble with his eyes. "Look, my dear Colleagues. No matter what happens, all of you will be honored as the bravest heroes, as great as Mother Wanda and all those who have given their lives for Seldon's Plan, for the Second Foundation, and for the future of humanity."

Who could argue with such a stirring speech?

"If anyone wants to change their mind," he added, "do so now. There will be no shame."

Joram and Kav exchanged a glance. Do you want to save the Plan? Mostly what Joram loved was his mother, his grandparents, cousins...and what he wanted to save was his family and friends, his little village and his workshop where he tinkered with electronic gadgetry and solar panels. And what he hated was those battle cruisers of the First Foundation, who were out there scouring the galaxy threatening what he loved.

Besides, how embarrassing would it be to quit now, and be known forever as a coward! Joram had never been honored with the word Colleague before.

"Joram, please change your mind. When you're facing a blaster, it will be too late."

"Give it up," Scholar Emil advised Minna, as a group of the volunteers waited for the shuttle. "When my wife was alive, she used to say 'easier to braid titanium with your fingers, than change a youngster's mind'."

"I would go with you," said Preem Palver. "But I have my own part in this plan."

"Bye Papa." Minna put her arms around her father's comforting bulk. Tears streamed down his face, like the rains of spring.

Papa ruffled his grandson Joram's thick mop of black hair. "May Seldon guard you."

"I work with the Galactic Relief Mission," said Dr. Abek. "Our Foundation established this group before the fall of Trantor. My ship is fitted as a quarantine vessel for the Arcturian plague. Planetary customs officials won't come too close."

He held up a small device and fitted it to each of the volunteers' heads. "Sleep now, and may Mother Wanda guard you all."

He made the Arc sign of Wanda Seldon: granddaughter of Hari Seldon, and the first leader of the Second Foundation.