CHAPTER 10: SELDON CRISIS
"Just 50 years ago," said Candidate Kyrin, "the Foundation was conquered by a master of mental control: The Mule!"
The crowd stirred and murmured.
He gazed around the grandiose flag-draped platform. He had surrounded himself with a large contingent of dark-clad security goons, blasters bulging out of their holsters.
A sea of unruly, enthusiastic supporters surrounded the stage. A lot of folks in his huge audience also wore pseudo-military fatigues and carried vivid banners with the initials FFP. Foundation Freedom Party.
"Those older folks here can tell you what that was like. Remember being forced to fall all over yourselves in adoration of that strutting little monkey-the Mule?" His voice, filled with loathing, echoed through the giant speakers. "And now...we've found a whole nest of mutants, just like him! That's right, folks! We have finally located our greatest foe: the Second Foundation!"
The crowd erupted in a howl. Kyrin's chest expanded, as if he was inhaling the power of their emotion.
"We Foundationers," he said, "like to believe we're masters of our own destiny. Eh? Oh yes, who could forget our glorious history—our heroic victories at Santanni, Syann, Kalgan." Kyril's voice stroked them. "But now we've learned we're not really in control-that a bunch of creepy mutants have been infiltrating our society for generations, living next to us all this time, just as brazen as you please...moving us around like chess pieces. They even call themselves the 'Chess Club', can you believe that!"
The crowd roared with indignation.
"They say their numbers are tiny—a mere fifty. Do you really believe that? I say there are lots more lurking about. Who could it be?" Kyrin had learned how to wind these folks up with his words. "Why, you never know. Some of those transients at the edge of town? Maybe some of those 'artsy' types, those sharp businessmen who do a little too well? Some of those intellectuals, with their noses in the air?"
He pantomimed, and they chuckled with him.
"And you gotta figure for sure that some of the folks on the Council are Controlled. For instance, look at that Councilor Gillam. He's deep in the pocket of the Seconders—he plans to let them go free...and hand them the keys to the city!"
The crowd howled with dismay. A few beverage containers sailed through the air, amid curses.
He tamped their rage with a gesture. "But we have a solution. We know how to find out who's Controlled. My engineer, the great Toran Darrel, discovered the Tamper Plateau. Show 'em, Thane."
Mirvin Thane, Kyrin's right-hand man, held up a large flat monitor screen showing rows of encephalographic waves.
"See this? These brainwaves are from Dr. Darell's original research. Right here…" he pointed at a section of the readout, "is what we call the Tamper Plateau, that shows evidence of mental control by a Second Foundationer. This readout from a guy who they found out was Controlled. Imagine that, people! Those freaks reached right into this guy's brain!"
The crowd shouted angrily; the banners waved back and forth like cudgels.
"Anyone who shows evidence of Tampering, is their tool from then on. Can't be trusted. Well—we won't allow it any more. The Seconds, and their puppets, will be found. I propose mandatory Tamper testing for all! I'm training my security force to test everyone on the planet. When I'm elected, we'll exterminate this menace, once and for all!"
The crowd went absolutely wild, chanting and screaming. Someone held up a noose. They chanted his name. He just smiled, savoring it all.
"Uh, excuse me sir," said Thane. "I just got a report on my phone. Something's happening over at the Seldon Vault."
"What is it?"
"Th-the roof spire is lighting up. Seldon's making an appearance!"
"What? What are you talking about? This is a victory, not a Seldon crisis!"
Over 350 years ago, Hari Seldon had calculated the most critical decision points for the society he had founded. His recordings had been timed to appear during each Seldon Crisis.
"Of all the times!" Kyrin stifled a curse. "Old Seldon's choosing to speak up now?" This was his moment, not Old Seldon's!
Well, wait a sec, he thought. This could work to his advantage. There was no one Foundationers loved more than their hero—prophet of their greatness…guiding spirit of a thousand victories-Hari Seldon! Once Kyrin got Seldon in his corner, there'd be no stopping him!
The Vault was not far away. Leading the crowd there was like directing a flowing stream. And Kyrin was the master of this mighty stream of energy! "Let's go!"
They followed him to a large round pavilion topped with a cathedral-style spire, which was right now emitting a brilliant beam of light. Elbowing aside all others, they poured into the empty space within. On the stage at one end, stood a transparent plexiglass chamber. Banks of speakers and video recorders lined the walls, ready to broadcast and record the message.
A chime began to sound. The lights dimmed. People shushed each other and finally fell silent. And then it happened: a holographic figure took shape within the transparent chamber!
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen," said the image of a seated figure in a wheelchair. The image everyone knew and revered. "I'm Hari Seldon." The name was almost the invocation of a saint...a god! His wise, benevolent image beamed down on all of them.
"It is now close to the middle of the Interregnum," said the holographic figure in its deliberate voice. "My calculations tell me that you have done well. You are uniting most of the Periphery in a prosperous confederation. Most enemies now hesitate to tackle the might of the Foundation. I'm sure there have been some rough moments. But I congratulate you on your successes."
His words were broadcast to all corners of the square, to the crowds outside. Scattered cheers and applause broke out. Kyrin beamed. Seldon was on his side!
"And yet," said Seldon, "I fear for all of you at this moment. Now you are facing the most dangerous crisis. When you settled Terminus, I reminded you that I created two Foundations. According to my calculations, you will now be coming into conflict with your own brothers: the Second Foundation.
"You see?" Kyrin shouted. "Seldon agrees!"
"Until now,," said Seldon, "the Second Foundation has been only a myth to you. But at this point in my calculations, there is a 75 percent chance that the First and Second Foundations will meet—and come into conflict. A conflict between brothers is always the most destructive. There is a 60 percent chance that one or the other will be destroyed."
"There," Kyrin yelled at the crowd. "You see? Seldon agrees! The mutants must go. He's giving us his blessing-"
"No he's not", Thane whispered, grabbing Kyrin's sleeve. "Shut up and listen, boss!"
"—and that would be a fatal mistake," said Seldon. "It would mean that you have forsaken the entire point of my plan. What could be more catastrophic to both sides than a civil war? If either side survives, there is still a 95 percent chance that the remaining group will degenerate into tyranny, civil war or anarchy. Alliances will collapse. You will be so weakened that any enemies won't hesitate to-"
The crowd had begun to mutter uneasily.
"—and within another 50 years, whichever Foundation is left will wither into ashes. It will mean the end of my Plan. The Galaxy will collapse into darkness-"
"No no, he's wrong! Shut up, shut up," cried Kyrin, trying to drown out Seldon's voice. "Tell that bastard to shut the hell up. Turn that off! Get those reporters out!" Kyrin frantically waved his hand at the image of Seldon, revered founder of their society. "There's something wrong," he cried. "That's not a real Seldon message. It's fake! It's the Second Foundation! They've sabotaged it!"
He ran to one of the goons and seized his shoulder weapon. "Give me that!" Panting with rage, he fired at the holographic chamber. With a flash of light, the transparent barrier shattered and Seldon's image vanished in shards of oblivion. "Get those video cameras," Kyrin cried. "Stop this recording!"
While his men smashed speakers and overturned cameras, he seized a microphone. "This is a plot by the Council," he cried. "They've dared to twist Seldon into their plot! They've all been taken over by the Second Foundation! Let's go and stop them! Follow me!" he directed his security men and the black-clad followers. "To the Council Hall! Get the traitors!"
Screaming all the way, Kyrin's followers engulfed City Hall. "Get the Traitors! Kill the mutants! Death to the Second Foundation," came the shrill exhortations from the bullhorn. "Death to traitor Jamey Gillam! Death to Mayor Vandikoff!"
That day, City Hall burned. Those within fled for their lives. Many did not make it. Kyrin's men grabbed any officials they could find and shoved them into black vans. They scoured the place for the Mayor but could only find his deputy, whom they seized, and forced him to sign a paper.
While the mob celebrated, most citizens of Terminus barred their doors and trembled.
A flag-draped truck passed through the city the next day. "Attention, citizens of Terminus. This is the provisional government of the Foundation Freedom Party. Due to the attempted Second Foundation takeover, elections have been suspended. The deputy Mayor has instituted Martial law and installed Admiral Dean Kyrin as your new Grand High Mayor." The Foundation national anthem blared out and the announcement started again.
People tried to cover their ears. "Don't do that," a woman cautioned her husband. "Act patriotic, or they'll take you in as a Seconder."
The next morning a new message was added. "Attention all citizens of Terminus. You are now required to report for Tamper testing, to prove you haven't been Controlled. Please make your appointment now. Any citizen without a clean certificate in 30 days will be arrested. Attention all citizens..."
By the 3rd day the Foundation Freedom Party had stepped up their search for Second Foundation saboteurs. Black vans prowled the city, snatching citizens at random.
An old man knelt in the ruined Seldon Vault, weeping, running his hands through the plexiglass fragments. "Oh, Hari, look what they've done to you."
A squad of Kyrin's goons surrounded him. "Move along Mister. This site's closed."
They put up a sign: Off Limits Except To Authorized Personnel. An announcement was released. "The Seldon Vault will be restored and the real Seldon message will be broadcast—after the enemy is defeated."
"Baloney." People had caught on. "It will be a fake message. Never in all our history has anyone committed such an outrage."
"Move along," the guards growled.
CHAPTER 11: GRAND HIGH MAYOR
On the 3rd day after the coup, Minna was awakened by the roar of military vehicles. Shortly after that, armed troops entered the barracks and lined the inmates up. They handcuffed and chained them together, and led them outside.
A large stage had been built on the parade ground of the Han Pritcher Navy Base. On its surface stood the Admiral, along with several government officials of Terminus. Military men formed the first ranks around it, and a large unruly mob swirled behind them: folks in fatigues, workingmen's clothes, police uniforms and the edgy costumes of teenagers. They carried flags and signs, sharp objects and weapons. The flag of the Foundation Freedom Party, or Freeps, was prominent among the crowd.
Minna and the rest of the Colleagues waited on their knees, chained together.
"I guess this is the end," Sharl muttered, on one side of Minna. "Hope they make it quick."
Amie threw a tearful look at Minna. "All this is part of Seldon's Plan?"
Kav moved closer to Amie. "At least we're together."
"Speaker Minna." Emil leaned toward her. "I want to thank you for your kindness when my wife died. And thanks for this nice scarf you made me. Won't be needing it now."
Minna composed herself and began to recite Wanda Seldon's First Level axioms. Others, hearing her, joined in.
A flurry of martial music sounded. Deputy Mayor Thane stepped up to the mic and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Grand High Mayor Admiral Dean Kyrin!"
After the applause died away, Kyrin began to speak.
"Ladies, gentlemen, members of our armed services, and defenders of Terminus!" He launched into his speech, his harsh, grating voice ringing in the still air.
A cascade of words spooled out from the Admiral, mostly graphic phrases concerning the nefarious Second Foundation and how his heroic FFP, or 'Freeps", had liberated Terminus from them. Minna made no effort to pay attention. Everything was happening exactly as her research had predicted! Sometimes she hated to be right. Why couldn't my calculations have found some way to stop this?
She began to recite the 500 Names of the Galactic Spirit.
Their guards remained immobile as stone, except for a few whose lips followed the Names. The Civil Guard members were from the Inner Planets, and some were very devout.
"Folks," said the Lord High Admiral Mayor, "a few lawyer-types have been squawking about the Tamper Testing machine. They say it's a violation of civil liberties. So I'm going to be an example to you all. I'll be the first to be publicly tested." He gestured toward one side of the stage, where a large monitor screen had been set up. "I'll prove to all of you that I'm a true-blue, un-controlled, free citizen of the Foundation. And then we're going to do what we came for. We're going to take care of these Seconder freaks who have been secretly lording it over us." He pointed to the Fifty. "Know what we're going to do to 'em? We're going to blast their mutant heads off!"
A savage howl of glee rose from the crowd.
"All right, let's get on with the testing so we can get to the main event you're all waiting for." Kyrin's technician then wheeled over a giant flat screen and took his time readying the equipment to administer a Tamper Test.
"Speaker Minna," Kav whispered. "Look who's up on the stage. Can you see? Looks like he's with Them now?"
Minna squinted. "Oh, by Seldon's beard." She recognized her son's thick mop of black hair. Joram. Oh, by the Black Hole, it's my boy Joram.
CHAPTER 12: WILD CARD
Joram squirmed in his chair.
Secretary Barb Lanell had made sure to bring her favorite new 'intern' to today's proceedings. She had chattered all the way there. "That Kyrin's an ass. You can get in and twist his brain around a little, can't you? After that I can climb over his carcass and get to the top. It's going to be great for you and me. Eh?"
Joram made what he hoped was the appropriate conspiratorial smile. But his mind was on other things as he sat there and listened to the Admiral's hateful speech and waited to see his mother and all his people executed.
He understood what was supposed to happen with this 'plan'. But perhaps there was a way to tweak things...so that everyone wouldn't have to die. Every Plan has to have a bit of flexibility. Right? We'll see what happens.
The Admiral preened and strutted. The Testing apparatus was brought out. Kyrin smiled and took a seat and let the technician place a helmet on his head. "Let the Testing begin," he shouted.
An observer might have thought Joram was falling asleep. All the while his entire attention was focused on that testing machine. Those circuits, so cleverly directing the flow of electric potential. Those contacts, touching the scalp of the new dictator of Terminus.
Joram felt those electrons, moving through their assigned paths. Couldn't he nudge just one or two of them? Was that even possible? Those Mind-Static transmitters would stop the usual sort of Persuasion, of course, but… His first year studies included the writings of Wanda Seldon, who had meticulously researched the mentalic arts. Different brain functions operate in different frequencies. What kind of brain functions did she mean?
He looked over at the lines of chained prisoners and picked out his mother.
They saw each other at the same time.
"Joram," she shouted.
Her cry was the trigger that put his energy over the top. Primal rage spilled out: the strength that rose up when your loved ones are threatened. A strength that can topple mountains! He glared at Kyrin with a white-hot lightning intensity and the force streamed out, striking an electron and knocking it aside. Others fell out with it, because electrons are magnetic..
Joram grabbed his head. The effort felt as though the lightning bolt had struck his brain as well. He heard a cry. "What's wrong?" the technician yelled. "Look at that!"
Others in the crowd began to keen in dismay. "What's wrong with the Admiral's Test?"
Then Joram caught a glimpse of the testing screen. There were several channels and all of them had gone haywire! Theta waves bristled like thorn bushes and the Alpha and Beta waves pulsed where they should lie down and lay flat where they should jump.
"Good lord sir," Thane cried, "are you all right? How do you feel?"
Kyrin's eyes bulged. He ripped the helmet off. "Wh...what's wrong?" People in the crowd began to laugh. "Look at that. He doesn't look so true-blue and free. Looks like he's crazier than a swarm of asteroids, that's what!"
"Yeah, looks like a comet punched a hole thru his brain!" The laughter spread.
Kyrin touched his head. His mouth made an O of dismay. "What the hell's wrong?"
Thane grabbed him by the collar. "You're not human, that's what's wrong! You're one of Them!"
"Hands off me, you traitor!" Kyrin threw a punch, jumped off the stage and plunged into the crowd. "Don't let him go," someone cried. "Get him! He's a freak! He's been tampered with!"
As if a switch were thrown, the scene dissolved into chaos. People ran about, shouting. Joram fell to the floor and tried to escape the trampling feet. From his viewpoint he caught one agonized glimpse of panicked guards firing wildly into the of the crowd of Second Foundation prisoners. No!
They think they're supposed to die...but Joram's emotions couldn't accept that. A pulse of uncontrolled rage and terror lanced out in all directions. Jam those guns—knock the static towers out-
His overloaded brain short-circuited and he fell into darkness.
CHAPTER 13: SELDON DEFENDERS
Minna stared, trying to see what had happened to her son. Meanwhile everyone else seemed to have gone crazy. Some of the guards began firing while others tried to flee the scene, crashing into each other.
Someone grabbed her arm. "Quick", a voice whispered. "I grabbed this remote off that guard there." The man pressed a button on a small remote, and released her hands from the cuffs. "Here! You!" he tossed the remote to Emil, who was chained next to her. "Free yourselves!"
In the midst of the chaos he pulled her away and she recognized those blue eyes. "Gillam."
"Yes. I'm a wanted man. Kyrin wants me dead right along with you. Let's get out of here."
"But my son—Joram…"
"No time!"
She felt a peculiar pulse in her brain—it felt like an unfamiliar form of mentalic power—and one of the Mind-static towers emitted a plume of smoke. What's happening?
"Looks like there's a saboteur," said Gillam. "One of yours?"
"I don't know." Minna tried to shield herself from the swirling, screaming mob as Gillam pulled her through their midst, flashing his City Council badge.
"Won't matter much. Most of the city, and the planet, is still covered with mind-static. In here—quick!" He pulled her into a small shuttle vehicle. She grabbed his arm. "Where are you taking me? I need to stay with my people."
"You've got friends in this city—we call ourselves the Seldon Defenders. We're going to prevent a massacre!"
"But—our purpose was to die," she cried.
"Sorry to disappoint. I'm sure some of you will get that chance. But as for you, Madam Speaker-Terminus is going to need you—no, I mean Seldon is going to need you alive.."
CHAPTER 14: DEATH AND THE SELDON PLAN
After quiet was restored at the Han Pritcher Navy Base, the group of detainees were transferred to a more secure location in a cavernous sub-basement. More secure, and less comfortable.
Battered and shaken, they tried to pull themselves together. "Who got shot?"
"I think Selv, and Lessam. A bunch of them. Couldn't see who."
"Where's Speaker Minna? Is she dead?"
"Emil's injured badly. Come, help me sit him up."
"Where's Kav? I think he's dead too. And Amie."
Someone began to sob.
"Courage," said Sharl. "They died for the Plan, as we all must."
"Someone damaged the static tower. Feels a bit less painful than before." A bit of telepathic connection was possible now, as they tried to hug and comfort each other.
"Colleagues," said Sharl, "since we're all going to die, let's talk about why." She tried to neaten her white hair that had fallen out of its bun. "Remember when someone told us You must love the Seldon Plan enough to make the ultimate sacrifice for it. So...why do we love the Plan? Because it is a way to a better future."
Emil coughed. "Yes…." He struggled to speak. "Humanity...will be united."
"The Plan is like a work of art...a latticework of logic, hope, intelligence..." Artist Breen illustrated his words with his fingers.
"If there is a Galactic Spirit," Scholar Tomar said, "the Plan is a diagram of its mind."
"Seldon was a man, not a god," said Sharl, "but his mind and spirit were in harmony with a greater power. A power that loved humanity. He spent his whole life planning how to save humanity."
Emil coughed again. "I'm proud to give my life... for Seldon's Plan."
He closed his eyes, and his face went still.
The guards watched from outside the room, on a video screen. Their badges said 13thCivil Division, Ground Forces, Foundation Navy. They paced, fidgeted and chewed baccy sticks.
Most of this unit came from Siwenna...a planet known for it's fanatical loyalty to the Foundation.
"Weren't we supposed to terminate them?" a soldier asked. "What are we waiting for?"
"We haven't received orders yet," Commander Valez, a stocky dark woman, avoided their eyes. The soldiers muttered among themselves. "Admiral probably decided they're more use to him alive."
"Yeah. Wants to keep them around, something for everyone to hate."
"Yeah, if he got rid of them, he'd just have to invent some more."
"Well I think it's a shame," Valez burst out. "I think it's a lie, that's what. Those folks aren't really Second Foundation."
The soldiers looked up in shock, hearing their Commander daring to speak her mind. "But...the Admiral says…"
"He's lying." Valez threw her baccy stick down and stomped on it. "Who are the Second Foundationers supposed to be? Scary mutants with hypnotic eyes. If you met someone like that, you would feel their evil aura."
"I don't feel any evil from these folks. They love Seldon as much as we do."
At the name of the Prophet Seldon, Valez traced a sacred sign. Like most of Siwenna, she had been raised as a devout worshiper at the Galactic Spirit Church, which always had a statue of the Prophet in its sanctum.
"Well, whoever they are, it seems like they don't mind dying. I wonder why?"
"Maybe they were sent by the Galactic Spirit," Valez muttered, "to teach us sinners to change our ways. If you ask me," she burst out, "it's the Admiral who's the evil monster!"
Now that their Commander had dared to speak the truth, it was like a dam breaking. It seemed the rest of them were thinking the same thing.
"What kind of black-hole demon would destroy the Seldon Vault? He's closed it off. Nobody can go there but him and his pals!"
"It's a blasphemy! He has thrown dirt in the face of the Prophet himself!" "If we love the Prophet...if we want to save our own souls...shouldn't we do something?"
"Like what? I don't want to be court-martialed".
"Forget court martial," said the oldest of the Company. "He'd have us shot."
