"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 XX...
"Here?" Mis stared about him at the storage boxes and the drab grey walls of the room to which Sessons had led him, a number of floors beneath the grand administrative offices.
"Preferable to my office which at the very least is constantly bugged by Indbur's Security stooges, despite his supposed faith in me. And while I generally manage to deflect their efforts easily, they're constantly trying to improve their systems which is tiresome keeping up. Not to mention every minor and major power of any capability in the Galaxy, but especially I'm sure, both the Second Foundation and the Mule, if they are separate, try to keep tabs on all high Foundation officials."
He took a seat on a low storage box and indicated for Mis to do likewise. With grunt, Mis did, facing the tall, thin, and now he noticed it, greying, Sessons...
"So...For centuries, since the founding of the Foundation, we had people like you leading a secret effort to defend us against mentalic power, namely, the Second Foundation?"
"I'm hardly a leader, Mis. I know only what I've told you. But I'm useful, given my connections to the government. The last person most would see as likely to help sponsor an effort likely to require hundreds of years to achieve any result with no guarantees of such, bringing no immediate return or recompense." Sessons, wry smile.
"But why in blazes...And you say only five know of this project? Did Hardin and Mallow, not to mention the lesser Mayors...Gods help us...Does Indbur know?"
"No one person has any more information than they absolutely need, but five have enough to coordinate the work." Shrug... "I've no idea if Hardin or Mallow knew...Certainly Indbur doesn't, unless he's so amazingly clever as to likely be the Mule himself. And he is not, I'd be willing to bet. But I suspect the great Mayors, at least, would have, in secret, cheered us on. Come, Mis, would you want all the effort and struggle we've put in to be simply to open the door for Seldon's chosen elite of mind-controllers...That we should be or end up, puppets to mentalic overlords?"
"You don't trust Seldon and his Plan?"
"Hari Seldon wanted a new Empire, stable and potentially never-ending, supposedly run by a scientific elite, us, or, if you prefer, you and your friends, but secretly governed by people like him, only enhanced, an elite whose edge would be their power to monitor and reshape any mind. Frankly in either case, that's not a world I find attractive, nor do many others, so no, I don't trust Seldon or his Plan. Nor his Second Foundation. And least of all the Mule, if the Mule operates independent of the Plan. Given you've expressed yourself not entirely favorable to the Second Foundation...You needn't ask how I know that...I'm assuming you feel similarly."
Mis eyed him...
"If I'm wrong, we lose only me..." Sessons shrugged. "I'm expendable, I assure you."
"You're not wrong." Mis sighed. "Galaxy...Why the blazes wasn't I informed of this, Sessons?" he fumed.
"Because, Mis...You're not only the finest mind in the Foundation, you've spent your life advertizing such to the Galaxy." Sessons, cool smile. "You set out with ridiculous fanfare, generated by you and your team, to recreate the work of Seldon. You showed you could very well do it, at least to some extent."
"Nonsense, it's a project that will take years...I'm only clearing a way."
"How noble." Sessons ironically... "But most of the remaining civilized Galaxy knows Elbing Mis and his quest, if they care about anything but holoshows and their daily bread. Even Indbur is in awe of you and has been since you were young men. Hell, his father hesitated to hang you because you were so prominent a scientist, so potentially an asset. How could we possibly include you in a project that has to remain in the shadows, so secret no one knows more that the slight bit they're entrusted with and in the case of five, and only five, just enough to coordinate the effort. A man like me...Despised and considered largely a pet of the Indburs, and something of a fool...And again, to be frank, not in the first-line of academic brilliance, is far better for this. A project that doesn't require absolute genius most of the time but does require people who will not be suspected of trying to achieve the impossible for no immediate recompense or recognition."
Mis looked sourly at Sessons. "And you think I...?"
"I think...And others do too...That the whole Galaxy hangs on what you'll accomplish next. And any good intel person, Second Foundationer, Mule's person, or just some warlord's capable minister, will have you under surveillance, track your movements, penetrate your ring of students. Mis, be reasonable, man, you know I'm right."
"So, why, expose the project to me now?"
"Because, first of all...I'm no great loss if you're either under the Mule's thumb or the Second Foundation's. And I don't know more than I've already told you. And second, because we need your brilliance. Your researches into psychohistory, public as they are, are crucial to us establishing if the Mule is outside the Plan or no. We're not ready to deal with either a single super-mentalic or the Second Foundation's largely educated mental manipulators and we know that."
"You've made little progress, in three hundred years, if as you say the Foundation's ...Or at least your group's worked on this since the Founding?"
"The Empire worked on mentalic technology of thousands of years with the most brilliant minds at its disposal and never got beyond a fairly good Psychic Probe." Sessons noted. "Mentalic science is more the realm of science fiction, a slow trudge at best, even for Hari Seldon and his people. Exactly how much we've achieved, I couldn't say, nor do I wish to know."
"All right. What do you want from me?"
"Psychohistory, Mis. The whole package Seldon created. We suspect you've had the wisdom to conceal that you've got a lot farther than you've ever revealed and we need your expertise if we to fight. Our best efforts as yet probably can't defend us against either a single natural super-mentalic, if the Mule really is one nor the trained mentalic of the Second. Your expertise could be crucial."
"I have got farther...But I can't offer a defense, if that's what you were hoping."
"We didn't expect it...But Psychohistory could tell us if the Mule is a true menace or an artificial one...And an artificial one buys us time."
"And if the Mule is independent?"
"Then contacting the Second Foundation, much as we might hate our dependence on them for now, may be our only hope."
...
"Careful." The young woman in light green uniform tunic identifying her as a park ranger, motioned Pritcher back as he stood by the fence at Sayshell Natural Park and Museum, eyeing a small, fur-covered creature with huge eyes regarding him. "That wobber may look cuddly but the claws are venomous and will leave you sick for at least a week, if you survive."
"Charming." Pritcher nodded. "Shouldn't you keep up a shield so he doesn't hurt anyone?"
"Well, that's a she and there's a sonic barrier, though most people read the signs and keep a foot away from the fence."
"Ah, right. Sorry." Pritcher nodded, noting the prominent sign.
"My mind was elsewhere."
"So I gather." The woman nodded. "Just visiting Sayshell or...?"
"Considering...I might make it permanent." He noted.
"It's a fine place." She nodded, smiling. "So clearly you have a free day, given there's almost nobody here today."
"My first in a while." Pritcher, rather truthfully. "Thought I'd see the sights in the City and maybe find out what the native life was like."
"We do our best...Sights and native life." She smiled. "You don't seem like a merchant...Soldier, maybe?"
"Guilty as charged." Pritcher nodded. "But I'm rather hoping to get out of it."
"Good. There's too many soldiers, no offense, coming across the borders, these days. You worry they may bring the war with them."
"Not if I can help it."
She nodded. "Care to see a few more natives? A bit more friendly than this cutie?"
"She won't be offended if I leave her?"
"Long as you say good-bye." Smile.
"Good-bye then." He waved to the wobber which eyed him, then moved off.
"This way..." she indicated a passage in the fence. "I'll give you the private tour, seeing as the place is almost empty."
Hope my signaler is reaching Goldan, Pritcher thought as he entered, smiling. She seems ok...And her codes are correct, but how can one be sure of any agent nowadays?
...
"Captain Han Pritcher, of Foundation Intelligence...According to your info disk." The young woman eyed him as they stood in the room she'd led him, after their little romantic playlet.
"Sara Pely...Information agent stationed on Sayshell." Pritcher nodded. "Are you satisfied with my credentials?" he asked.
"They seem fine. Sorry if I was cautious, sir. I'm a little extra careful, given the war. So..." She waved him to a chair in the room. "What can I do for you? And why is an Intelligence captain here on Sayshell, in the middle of the day and the middle of a major war?"
"Obviously, Intelligence." He noted. "And I'd hope you're always careful." Stern look.
"Yes, sir." Nod. "Obviously...But Sayshell is neutral and if anything, leaning Foundation. Is that it, are you here to push them over to us?" she asked.
"Not for the present. My concern is the Mule."
"The Mule?" she eyed him. "I'd guess the entire Intelligence staff has him as their concern right now. But why Sayshell?"
"I've an acquaintance who claimed the Mule had some association with Sayshell, I wanted to follow up on that."
"An acquaintance?"
"Lord Rox of Vargos, a former archchancellor and pirate leader."
"Nice acquaintance." Smile.
"You've heard of him?"
"'Fraid not, sir. Sayshell's been pretty pirate-free since the Foundation and Imperial-free since the Empire abandoned the Periphery. And no visits from Archchancellors that I know of."
"Officer, I don't mind a little impertinence, but you might keep it for your role." Pritcher, coolly.
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." She nodded.
"What can you tell me?" he eyed her. "Regards Sayshell and the Mule."
"Really nothing, sir. People talk about him. The government of the Union and the government here on Sayshell are concerned about him, even to considering an alliance with the Foundation for the first time in their history."
"That rumor, bar-talk, or do you know?"
"I'm the mistress of the chief local Senator here, sir." She said quietly. "I know what he knows, and they are giving the alliance serious consideration."
"I see. Ok, if you did have any contacts who might know Sayshellian history to say 20 or 30 years back, I'll be interested."
"I know a few older folks via my job here. They might possibly know something, though they've never mentioned it."
"Ok, get me to them."
"We get together on Second night for drinks at the bar down the road here. That'll be tomorrow night. You can come as my date, if that would be acceptable."
"What about your Senator?" he eyed her.
"That's another persona, a party girl downtown. Here, I'm just a nice, respectable park ranger."
"Must be a bit difficult."
"It requires a little of juggling but I was an actress on Terminus, before I was recruited, nothing too big, but good. And my life as Sara is quiet. My friends usually spend considerable parts of evenings out trying to hook me up with someone. I say yes, just enough to keep suspicion down. If my other persona, Tessa, is ever compromised, I wouldn't be the first 'nice girl' to lead a double life."
...