"Mule…"
Summary: My AU version of the Asimov tale from his collection of Foundation and Second Foundation tales.
Even as civil war threatens the mighty but flawed Foundation, the Galaxy's greatest power since the Fall of the great Galactic Empire, its road to eventual triumph as the reuniting force in the Galaxy yet (supposedly) guaranteed by the quasi-mystical Seldon Plan, a mysterious warlord of a new and rapidly rising power is maneuvering to seize domination of the Galaxy in defiance of Seldon.
Part IX…
"How's Bay?" Mylin asked Toran as the group…She, Toran, Eb, and Magnifica sat down to dinner.
"Sleeping normally. I hope she'll sleep through the night."
"I hope you two will." Mylin eyed him, then Magnifica. "Are you feeling better, Magnifica?"
"Oh, yes, my Lady Mylin." Magnifica smiled. "The potions of Dr. Aton do wonders for the one."
"Well, after dinner you should rest. Bay would want you to." Mylin, sternly.
"Yes, milady. Oooh…This chicken is a feast fit for kings and queens…" she insisted, digging in.
Mylin grinning to Toran… "Nice to be appreciated. Eb here usually just grunts as he wolfs down my dinners."
"Nonsense." Ebling frowned. "And it's just fine, the way I like it."
"Actually, it's a new recipe." Chuckle. "But, glad you like it."
"Toran, we should discuss the situation." Ebling noted. "I've blocked the little surveillance devices Indbur's installed or has outside. Three inside, by the way."
"Remind me not to walk around naked in here." Mylin grinned.
Magnifica staring, clearly startled by the notion…But quickly resuming her dinner.
"That metabolism of yours must be incredible." Mylin eyed her. "I wish I had it. I seem to gain weight even if I don't eat."
"The Lord Vargos, my old owner, said I could eat him out of house and home and still be hungry." Magnifica sighed. "If this one be eating too much…?"
"Not at all." Toran shook head. "You eat as much as you like, just don't get sick like on Sagosa. Though apparently it was in part Sag fever then."
"I had not ever had some wonderful food as when I came aboard my Lord Toran's space vessel." Magnifica explained. "Her stomach was far too big for the one's eyes, mayhaps?" sheepish expression.
"Toran? Mylin?" Ebling fuming a bit now.
"He's been doing his best to be patient. Lets indulge him." Mylin suggested, with grin.
"All right, Eb. Sorry. Lets discuss, if you're absolutely sure it's safe to." Toran noted.
"It is. You said you know a little about the Second Foundation?"
"Yeah, the usual." Toran nodded. "I understand from Mylin though you do believe in its existence."
"As do I." Mylin nodded.
"Ok…So?" Toran put up hands in questioning gesture.
"The Second Foundation was created by Seldon to guard the Plan." Mis noted. "He left the physical science to us, on the First Foundation, with a few scraps of psychohistorical analysis, mainly to allow us to predict Seldon crises, largely so he wouldn't appear to empty rooms…Old Hari preferring an audience. And so we could better deal with said crises."
"Right… But the Second Foundation was given a basis in psychologic science, mentalics, psychohistory. Am I right, so far?" Toran asked.
"Precisely." Mis nodded. "But while the Foundation, really the First Foundation, was announced with a degree of fanfare, even a modicum of Imperial support at first, the Second was kept in secrecy…It was even suggested Seldon never actually set it up, just proposed it. But he did, I'm sure of it. The Second Foundation exists." Mis, firmly.
"So…You think they'll stop the Mule?" Toran eyed him.
"May it be so…" Magnifica, breathlessly. "So wise a one for the great Seldon to create another world of power. Sorry, Lord." Eyeing Mis' stare.
"Stop him, perhaps." Mis hesitated.
"What?" Toran stared. The others stared.
"It's only…The Second Foundation was founded 289 years ago and needed time, like us, here on Terminus, to develop. But given its focus on psychology and mentalics…" Mis paused. "And its secretiveness. It might take far longer to become actively able to intervene in our crises."
"Meaning…They might not be able to help." Toran regarded Mis. "It might be up solely to us. But if so, then we should be able to stop him alone, if he is the Seldon crisis. It's just a matter of making the right decisions."
"Yes and no." Mis sighed. "I'm concerned about the way the Mule's appearance diverged from the Plan initially and now, well…My calculations are still limited by the slow processing of all the data, but…"
"Eb…" Toran frowned.
"The Mule now seems a critical factor, perhaps the critical factor rather than a part of the civil war/democracy crisis I'd anticipated. If he and his activities are removed, the Plan diverges seriously. If kept in, it also diverges. I've never encountered a Crisis scenario like this."
"Either way, the Plan falls?" Toran stared.
"There's not enough data to say. But the other thing is, introducing a Second Foundation with enough effect, hypothetically via mentalics, produces a series of scenarios…"
Mylin, careful look to Eb.
"Not all too good ones, I take it." Toran eyed Mis.
"Well, depends on your notion of good…But they all involve serious manipulation of humanity, via mentalics. A likely rigid control of Humanity in fact. But without mentalics factored In, if the Second Foundation lacks that power and operates solely on refinements of psychology and psychohistory, my preliminary calculations suggest that the Mule triumphs. With rather uncertain consequences…"
Toran blinking…
"You're saying…The Mule winning. Beating us and destroying the Plan? Could be good or bad?"
"I don't know…And 'good' or 'bad' can be very relative terms. However the calculations suggest a high probability of Chaos. Which is usually not something beneficial."
"The Mule will win…?" Magnifica gasped. "No…"
"Only a possibility, girl." Ebling, hastily. "I believe the Second Foundation will prove able to fight him."
"But if they can, it's only by using mentalics?" Mylin asked, quietly. "They'd control events by controlling minds?"
"Perhaps only the Mule's himself." Mis noted. "Perhaps others. But there's an obvious fact staring out of this."
"The Mule isn't an ordinary warlord, he can't be." Toran, grasping the point. "He must have mentalic power, natural or learned."
"That's not confirmed, Toran. But…Well, there are signs." Ebling noted. "Magnifica's mental alternation for one."
"Ohhh…" Magnifica quavered.
"EB!" Mylin, grimly. Moving over to comfort the girl.
"Sorry, but we have to discuss this. Magnifica's clearly had some sort of very subtle mental manipulation. It may be our only physical proof of the Mule's mentalic ability." Mis noted. "Though we see signs in the strange behavior of men and women like Callier and the Sagosian government."
"Calthonia, Droxima, even Kalgan as well…" Toran noted.
"Yes." Mis agreed.
"But…Eb?" Mylin spoke up from where she sat by Magnifica. "If the Mule has acquired mentalic ability, there's only one source of learned mentalic ability, the Second Foundation. Are you saying he could be a rogue of some sort?"
"It's not impossible. Even the Second Foundation is only made up of human beings, whatever their abilities." Eb noted. "Or he's acquired his power naturally."
"Wouldn't the Second Foundation be on guard against that?" Toran asked. "Seldon must have considered normal human ambition…That some Second Foundationer might try a bid for sole power early on in the Plan. It must be figured into the Plan. Maybe that's your Seldon Crisis? A rogue Second Foundationer?"
"I'm considering it." Eb nodded.
"Natural or not, Second Foundationer or not, how do we fight a mind-controller?" Mylin asked.
"Hopefully Seldon left the answer in the Plan." Eb sighed. "But you see now why…"
A faint call from Bayta's bedroom…Toran rose at once and hurried in, Magnifica looking after him.
"Lets give them a minute, honey." Mylin urged.
"Yes, milady." Nod. Though she kept eyes on the now closed bedroom door.
…
Kalgan City Central Complex… A vast collection of spires, large towers and low, wide buildings connected with the local and planetary government, small parks, vast boulevards, fountains currently spewing more than just water in multicolors (and crowds happily gathering what was more), a wide river cutting through about a quarter in the northeastern section…Food vendors, sellers of all wares, and crowds of people…Though for the first time, Pritcher in his new outfit of light woven fibers, in the traditional Kalganian colors of yellow gold, sky blue, and deep green, noted large…Very large numbers of troops in the black and silver of the Union of Worlds as he made his way through various security posts to the VIP area near the main stage, a wide white holoplatform hovering currently about four feet off the ground on which musicians were completing their various set ups and some sort of honor guard was constantly parading.
And yet, once again, not a holoimage, poster, nothing deigning to represent Kalgan and its Union's mighty ruler.
Now that's taking modesty to paranoia…Pritcher thought.
And curiously, the soldiers all remarkably well-behaved, restrained…Clearly pleased to be there, of course, but not a sign of bluster, drunkenness, even the raucousness troops on leave or being entertained throughout the Galaxy generally showed. The entire force, which must easily number 100000 soldiers alone…Ah, 150000 according to the holodisplay, plus another 100000 civilians, seemed on dress parade. The VIP area in which he stood, sipping from a Kalkiller special, a local favorite cocktail, mostly filled with earnest looking, wounded and disabled soldiers, who seemed out of a propaganda film about the glories of war.
Of course, in his travels, both private and for Intelligence, and his own days in the frontline Foundation navy, he'd naturally seen efforts like this. But never such widespread sincerity or perfect order, without a vast contingent of security types enforcing a script.
"Hanis!" he found himself hailed from the holoplatform…
"Hey, let that man through, please…" He looked to see Lena Merv in a costume she'd made famous in many a Botos concert throughout the more or less still fairly civilized parts of the Galaxy,, regarding him from the edge of the holoplatform.
"Hi!" he'd stepped over, she descending a bit on a subsection to meet him, it leaving her about a foot above him, she bending to greet him, offering a hand which he took.
"Glad to see you made it!" she beamed. "Hang on, I need to make the rounds." The subsection, about four feet in diameter, descending to the surface, she stepping out to applause and a few cheers.
"Hi, folks!" she cried, extending hand above her head. "LENA!" a happy cry.
Well, a bit more natural, Pritcher thought. But hardly that of a bunch of soldiers just back from the front and most, wounded.
"Come on, if you don't mind." She urged him. "I want to greet some of the folks here, we can talk as we walk." He following her as she went to the first row of wounded soldiers, smiling and greeting. Men and women eagerly grasping her hand.
"This your boyfriend, Lena?!" the closest thing to rowdiness Pritcher'd yet heard.
"Friend yes, but you all know I'm married to the best general in the army!" she called back, beaming.
"Loris!" a cry back, fists raised now by many.
"Ok?!" she pulled up a minitransmitter to the holospeakers… Her 3-dimensional largely naked image and somewhat to Pritcher's discomfort, his own, now visible high over the area. "How many of you serve under my guy?!" she called, gleaming smile. Pritcher pulling back just enough to be out of holoview.
"Me!" calls from all over the area, fists raised again.
"Well, you know what he'd say? What are you doing sitting on yer asses here?!" she cried. "There's a war to be won!"
"Yeah!" widespread cry.
"But I'm kidding." She spoke. "I know I owe each one of you personally for helping to keep us, Kalgan, the Union, and my own sweet baby safe. Thank you, all! I love you!"
"Yeah!" cries.
We're going to…Talk? Pritcher thought, staring.
"Ok, let me just come around and say hi to some of you. Hey there." Lena stopped before a young woman in uniform, minus legs, in wheelchair. "What can I sing for you tonight, sweetheart? Hearts of gold? Yeah, lets put that on the list. Where are you from?" she continued.
Pritcher uncertain but she caught his eye and motioned for him to stay by as the young soldier answered her questions.
"Ok, I will get a card out to your mother by tomorrow. And remember, I'm singing that one for you. Thank you so much." She kissed the woman and turned to Pritcher.
"I think you should get a call tomorrow, weapons procurement, Major Beral." He nodded.
"Hello, there handsome." She greeted a young man with head in special regeneration helmet, clearly severely injured, likewise in wheelchair with arm in sling. Pritcher pausing…
Am I supposed to follow her through this whole crowd?
"I'll let you go now, Hanis, but come backstage if you like after the show, your pass is approved…And good luck with the interview." She patted his arm, continuing to address the wounded soldier.
Hmmn…If she keeps offering to sing each one of these kids a song, it's likely to be a very long night, Pritcher thought, as he watched her continue on through the crowd.
"You're one lucky guy, friends with Lena Merv?" a young male soldier addressed him as he found a spot to stand. He turned to see the boy, in uniform but nothing below his chest but a life support unit.
"Sagosa. They gave us hell." The boy noted. "But the regen boys say they may be able to grow me a second half in a few months, we'll see. " Pritcher nodded.
"Not in uniform? You don't carry like a tourist." The boy eyed him.
"Actually that's just what I am." Pritcher replied. "But I've been in service."
"And I've been a tourist. We're equal." Smile. "She's quite a lady, Lena. I used to watch her holoshows all the time here in the city. Never thought I'd see her in the flesh." The boy beamed. "You really know her?"
"She's a friend, yes." Pritcher nodded. Considering if it made sense to stay on, given he'd got probably the most he could hope for and it was unlikely he'd either learn anything more from Captain Merv back stage or encounter the Mule here.
"I know another friend you might care to meet." The boy eyed him carefully.
…