"Mule..."
Summary: My AU version of the Asimov tale from his collection of Foundation and Second Foundation tales.
As she consolidates her new Empire, the First Citizen, Magnifica Gigantica, i.e. Bobo the Clown/Musician is one step away from Galactic conquest. But that step requires the locating and defeat of Seldon's hidden Second Foundation.
Book III: "Foundation and Union..."
Part II…
General Han Pritcher entered the room after passing through only the most trivial of security measures. But the Mule in truth required none of the traditional protective security of Emperors, Warlords, Foundation Mayors. She was her own most powerful, most efficient protector. And this, a small ministerial office, off at the edge of the vast, if only partially restored from its glory days, Imperial Palace of the old Kalgan Imperial estate, suited so confident and secure a ruler. No pomp or frivolous splendor for her, that was the province of the puppet Emperor, sitting on his empty throne, in the main Palace, she'd just installed/"restored", he thought with approval. The Mule had no need of or time for such nonsense, useful as it might be for winning the easy acceptance of the masses of the Galaxy, impressed by the puppet show of an Emperor descended from past Emperors. He paused at the door to her large but simple and plainly furnished living quarters, where an attendant politely saluted him and requested his patience while the First Citizen and Chief Minister readied herself to receive the Imperial General.
In the Emperor's name, of course…
Pritcher fancying a smile on the attendant's lips…Both fully aware of the charade…He politely in turn acknowledging that he'd be happy to wait.
Not an entirely true statement, as he saw a tall, thin young man of slight boyish look, indeed almost a boy really, in rather expensive robes hurry to the doorway, nodding to his frown.
"General…" the fellow smiled at him.
"Tomn." Pritcher, coolly.
"General…" the voice of the First Citizen of the Union, minister prime to the Emperor Dagobert IX, once ironically known to those few she chose to call "friends", Magnifica Gigantica, or to the Galaxy she'd challenged…And so far, beaten…Pritcher noted proudly…The Mule.
"First Citizen." Pritcher came to attention as Tomn, the boy, passed him sheepishly and went out.
Tiresome, worthless fellow. Though it was more from the annoyance of his being the choice of the greatest ruler the Galaxy had ever known than any specific defect aware to Pritcher that the General's instinctive dislike came.
Still, he was her choice…For that necessary companion that men and women generally had to have, Pritcher could accept that.
Just a pity that with over a third of the Galaxy and more to choose from, this was the chosen. Even if he might be fully probed and safe…
Clearly, the First Citizen sensed that annoyance, which disturbed him. Not out of fear…He had none for her, even if she'd felt wrath or rage at his attitude.
He was already ready to die, for her and her cause, even at her hands…
Eyeing her spindly form as she approached, arms and legs so thin as to seem tacked on, large pointed nose arising from the tight planes of her face like a peak from a raised plateau, her dark brown skin tinged with an unhealthy yellow, thankfully not due to any internal illness or malfunction, simply what nature had given her. Despite her elegantly simple white robe of office and the single gold badge that marked her as an Imperial Minister, her slight figure, boyish, with a head, so comically large in proportion to her body, gave the whole effect a ludicrous, if one was inclined to kindness, tone.
Only her large, warm, deeply brown eyes, perpetually sad and even kind, offering anything in the way of beauty…Even to the unconverted, blind fools of the common herd she so strove to help.
"Pritcher, Pritcher…" she sighed, smiling at his frown. "I know you love me, in your way. But it's an imposed love. Tomn is grateful for my favor and in his light way wants to please me without compulsion. It's not exactly love or even deep affection, I assure you…He's a practical fellow who likes receiving the benefits of his position, but it's not pressed on him. And that matters to me…Perhaps in ways you can't understand."
She eyed his now stricken face…
"I'm sorry if that hurts you." She patted his arm. "I value you highly, you know that. But it's the sad truth that your devotion to me is forced, by me. And I do regret that, it would mean a deal to me to have your honest affection and loyalty." She paused at his wince.
"I'm only speaking the truth. It's to my discredit not yours that I've caused you pain this way. But let me say I regard you as one of my truest and best followers. And I hope, that if circumstances were different, you might be a voluntary one, if only because, in a way, you agreed with my goals in your old life. Even before my influence you did have your doubts of Seldon and his Plan."
"I do agree, ma'am. Whole-heartedly." Pritcher, sighing.
"I know. Forget what I've said." She said, kindly. "But accept that I must have my little diversions, being only human, if a bit supersuch, in my way." A slight, wry smile.
"You are the greatest person I know, ma'am. The most worthy ruler of the Galaxy…" Pritcher, simply. "And you'll achieve your goals, with my help, to whatever extent I can, I hope."
"Thank you, Pritcher. I agree." She nodded, her warm, if eternally sad eyes, on him. "Did you enjoy the recoranation?" smile.
"I did, ma'am. It was managed very well."
"I think it went off well…Trantor was the right place even if too far from our center as yet to be the Union capital. Emperor Dagobert did well, didn't he?" a contented look that gave him considerable pleasure.
"He did. Surprisingly so, but of course you've backed him up." Pritcher noted.
"In a small way…He's still an Emperor in his heart, Lord Rox was right there. I just reinforced his stamina a little. I rather like him…" smile. "He's a kind man for all he's suffered all these years since the Fall, if a bit worn down. I wish I'd not had to cause him more pain but he's vaguely aware his son was a monster." Her eyes sad a moment. "If you'd known Rox, you'd have seen a similar spirit. They both truly believed in the Empire, just arrived too late to save it."
"Well, in his small way, he gets to do that now, ma'am. I'm sure as much as he understands what's happened, he's pleased."
"He seems so." She smiled at Pritcher's look. "Don't worry, General. I probe everyone, and the poor man is what he seems. An aging Emperor, falling into senility, but for a bit of mental support from me. I used to do the same for poor Rox, when he first began to fail. Sadly, I can help but only so much." She reflected sadly.
"Well, in any case, welcome back to Kalgan. It's good to have you back. I hope you'll attend the reception for the Emperor tonight…In my name. I'm afraid I've been rather busy with probing, including all those you've sent back on your travels." Wry smile. "I think I'd like to sit this one out if you'd oblige me and rest a bit. I know you hate such things as a practical man, but they are important in their way."
"Of course, gladly, ma'am." Nod.
"Well, gladly to help me, not so glad to spend an evening making small but diplomatic talk. I'm sorry to put it on you. And I do want you to rest after tonight. You've been very busy yourself I know and you push yourself too hard at times, Han."
"Thank you, First Citizen." He bowed, inwardly pleased at the use of his name.
"So, you have a report for me? What news of your efforts?"
…
"We've found nearly a thousand more gifted types, all slight telepathic ability that could be harnessed. They're being brought under secure guard to Kalgan for your examination." He placed an information cube on her desk.
"Good." She nodded. "I doubt we'll find any Second Foundationers among them, but we can deploy them as listeners. And your own search?"
"Nothing but vague rumors, ma'am. We've probed the minds of every official of the old Foundation, every scientist connected even remotely with Psychohistory in any way. Many have heard the rumors of a Second Foundation, none know of it. Seldon's records at the Trantor Library seemed of no assistance, even the best I could bring in insist he's silent on the subject. And I've been this time to every other planet Seldon or his people were ever mentioned in any records we could find as having stopped at. Nothing."
"Yet, Elbing Mis found it. I know he did. He was ready to tell me…If only I could read minds fully, I would have the answer." She sighed.
Pritcher a bit uncertain at her anxiety. "If you feel another scouring of the Library should help….?"
"No, not at this time. Only another Elbing Mis could break the secret there. Unfortunately, like me, a very rare commodity. Lets consider… Please, take a seat."
Pritcher sat in chair, stiffly.
"We know Mis discovered the Second Foundation exists and he was convinced he'd found its location." She noted, taking seat beside him, pulling up her strangely long limbs to accommodate the chair. "You may take that as a given, General." As he looked at her. "Dr. Mis was a genius, the best mind since Seldon, in Psychohistory and pushed by me, too hard, sadly." She shrugged. "I've no doubt he was correct."
"Yet no other we've found can learn anything useful from the records…" Pritcher noted.
"Well, none can begin to match Mis, even driven by me. I'm sure they've done their best." She waved off-handedly.
"Perhaps the answer lies in my making more expeditions…Seeking out any further trace of mentalic ability?" Pritcher suggested.
"Possibly. But there's always a danger in letting my best, like you, General, too far out of my reach." She noted. "My conversion is permanent but a gifted mentalic might be able to revert it. Or even, subtly affect you."
"Ma'am?"
"It's always a concern, Pritcher, in fact, please don't take offense, but I'm going to probe you deeply now. I hope you understand. I'd never violate your mind so unless I felt it necessary."
"Of course, ma'am. I prefer you do. I'd never want to find I've become a tool of our foes." Pritcher, earnestly.
"Well, take the seat over here, so you can lie back, and we'll begin." She waved him to a more plush and flexible chair. Gently coy smile. "I promise to be gentle as I can."
…
The huge Imperial reception hall glittered with light reflected off the mirrors, chandeliers, holostatues of past leaders and heroes of the old Empire and the new Union, the glimmering dresses and uniforms of various dignitaries and officers…
On his polychrome throne Emperor Dagobert IX, restored, sat graciously extending hand to the line of officials and dignitaries approaching him, bowing to a few of the highest, offering a few careful words as prompted by a young female attendant next to him. Pritcher now came before him, from the line, kneeling to receive a quick benediction and urgent, if gentle, wave to rise.
"Majesty? The First Citizen has asked me to express her regrets at not attending the reception but she was a bit exhausted by the coronation. She offers her profound apologies and her congratulations."
"Oh, my poor girl." Dagobert shook head. "Not serious, is it? Shall I have doctors sent?"
"No, Majesty. She has the finest near her, at your command. But she's well, merely a bit tired."
"I understand that all too well, General…Pritcher, is it?"
"Yes, Majesty. I hope you're well."
"Just old age, my friend." Dagobert smiled kindly. "And all this excitement, so wonderful. And the people! So pleased to have their Emperor back on his throne. But please tell my poor child, the First Citizen, to rest. Chamberlain?" he turned to another attendant. "See the First Citizen has anything she requires." The attendant, bedecked in more medals than most of the Union generals about, to Pritcher's silent amusement, clicked heels and hurried off.
"Thank you, Majesty. I know the First appreciates your concern."
"Well, she is a dear child. And such a comfort to me. I always feel so much clearer-headed and stronger when she's near."
Yes, I imagine you do…Pritcher thought.
Still, as figurehead Emperors go, as always, Our First has chosen well…
"General? May we have a word from you?" a holonews reporter had come over.
Lord, Pritcher rolled eyes.
"Go on, my friend. The people want to hear of our friend and the noble story of how together we all saved the Empire from ruin." Dagobert urged him. "It's a glorious epic…And your turn." He smiled, rather charmingly coy.
Pritcher, unable to resist a smile back, nodding to him, and following the reporter…
"I've not much to say, miss. The First Citizen and the Emperor have succeeded with the efforts of our devoted soldiers and sailors to restore our Galatic Empire. Any real credit goes to them." He noted, walking with her.
"The General is too modest, fair girl." A young man in the black and silver uniform of a junior officer approached. "His assault on Memnon broke the back of the last Trader Worlds. He led a squadron right through some of the tightest missile defenses in the Galaxy."
"Oh?" the young woman eyed the man, then Pritcher.
"Lieutenant Channis, Bail Channis." The lieutenant noted. "Honor to meet you, sir." He saluted, though his identification had clearly been for the reporter. "I was with the third division at the landing in the capitol."
"Lieutenant." Pritcher returned the salute, seizing up the curly haired young officer.
"Now all we need do is consolidate and the continue the Galactic Offensive for a few more years…" Channis told the reporter confidently. "And we soldiers and sailors of the Union stand ready to fight under leaders like Pritcher and the First and of course our beloved Emperor."
Slightest of sneers under the last words…Which Pritcher frowned at.
"Lieutenant? It's been a long ceremony and I think His Majesty needs a pillow for his throne. Go and fetch one from the commissary, at once." He eyed Channis who was clearly about to relate his gallantry at Memnom to the attentive holoreporter.
"Lieutenant?" Mildly, at Channis' hesitation, a slight look of irritation.
"Yes, sir." Channis saluted, clicked heels, and strutted off. The reporter looking after him with a slight smile.
"Thanks for your time, General." She smiled at him. He, nodding and turning to greet several officials now stepping to him to congratulate him and generally bask in the reflected glory.
"A great day, General." One, a minister of production in various armaments nodded to him. "But the First is not ill, I trust?" A sincerely concerned, even anxious, expression.
"She's well, just tired and has better to do than this folderol, necessary as it may be."
"The People need to see their Emperor and to know what's been accomplished." Another noted. "It may be a bit of fluff and feathers, but it matters, General." The speaker, a handsome woman in her forties, formerly a high-level minister of one of the key Foundation industrial worlds, now a senior member of the Union's Council of Ministers, entrusted with the rapid development of many systems long left fallow after the Fall of the old Empire. "But the First is well?" nervous look.
"She's quite well, I assure you, Minister." Pritcher nodded.
"That's good." Nod, smile. "We should talk, General." She eyed him. "If you have a moment to escape… Gentlemen?" she addressed the others with smile. "I'm going to liberate General Pritcher for a bit and leave you to face the media hounds."
"Glad to…" Pritcher smiled. "Excuse me, all." The others nodding, casual waves.
"Thank you, Iriana." He told the woman as they walked off, nodding to several greetings, she waving off an anxious aide approaching her.
"Later, Clais." As they left the main hall and entered the corridor outside, nodding to several attentive guards, who saluted the general, he returning.
"Here." Iriana indicated a conference room. "Empty, come on." She held door for him.
He glanced about "Nice to have a moment's peace."
"Yes. Glad to get away myself." Iriana noted, pulling a seat out and indicating one for him as she sat, he likewise. "Han? She's all right?" worried look.
"I wouldn't say so if She weren't."
"She might have told you not to. We both know She's been working too hard recently. We must try to make her rest."
"She will, now that this bit of nonsense is over."
"There's still so much to be done." Iriana shook head. "We've completed but a third of the task…I'm doing all I can to build things up but there's so little infrastructure on some of these worlds since the Fall. And they're mostly Unconverted…" frown. "No sense of the urgency…They're happy to see the Foundation go down, but most expect the Union to fail in time, worthless, selfish fools and won't raise a finger to help Her save the Galaxy." Shakes head. "I know you think this ceremony was nonsense, but it will provide some proof of stability, and bread and circuses has always worked, some." She sighed. "But I'll be back at it tomorrow, like you. Not enough days in the week, you know." Wan smile.
"I suppose." He shrugged. "But sounds like you should rest yourself." Pritcher noted.
"I'm actually under Her orders to do so, in a little while. Seems my blood pressure is a bit high and a few other minor things. But not for a couple of weeks, I want to be sure things will be running smoothly."
"Well, I'm glad She ordered it." Pritcher nodded. "You're too valuable to her to injure yourself."
"Thanks. Of course, I know that." Wry smile. "She never made a better Convert. But Han…" she eyed him. "I understand from her that you're under orders to take a little break yourself."
"She graciously told me to do so after my last expedition. I suppose it's not a bad idea. I have been at things pretty steadily."
She nodded, pausing…
"Naturally, as I know your mission was classified I won't ask, though I'll venture to hope it went well."
"Not so well as I could have hoped…" Pritcher sighed.
"Eliminating possibilities is useful too." Iriana noted, shrugging at his stern look. Putting up a hand.
"I can guess, Han. I was at the higher levels of the Foundation government. But I promise to keep such guesses to myself. Though if I can offer anything useful, even generally as a sounding board, you know I will. I want you to succeed, you know that."
"I know." He nodded. "But it's safer to maintain security. For you as well as her."
"I understand. And of course, I'll gladly have myself probed by her. She did when she converted me, you know. If I were…Well, She'd know."
"Yes, I suppose She would." He nodded. "I don't object to having your help, again it's just security."
"I understand. But, to return to my original subject…Suppose we took a vacation together?" she suddenly asked, staring at him. "We could discuss matters…Generally…As well as rest. And well…" shrug. "I rather fancy you, Han Pritcher. And She feels we'd make a fine match. She told me so herself."
"Did She?" Pritcher, frowning.
"Han, She's not free to marry you, if you were hoping. I know She considers you one of her finest, which is why She's suggesting this to me."
"I know She can't marry."
"Nice way to follow through." Mock frown. "You do find me appealing…?" another wry smile. "In older days I know I wasn't exactly available, but I remember back in school at Terminus City…"
"Our one date…" he grinned, almost boyishly.
"You were the one who didn't follow up. It really got me upset, then." Nod.
"You were from good family and money, I wasn't. When I saw just how good and how much money…"
"I'm sorry you thought I was that shallow." Iriana frowned. "Oh, don't look like that…" sigh, smile. "It was partly my fault, I know. I should've let you know it didn't matter, which meant of course-and I'm being fully honest here-it did, much as I pretended to myself it didn't."
"But now, since She's asked…"
"Actually, I asked." She smiled, benignly. "She only mentioned she hoped you'd find someone good for you. So, I just jumped in and asked. She thought it a great idea, given I'm actually rather sweet and loving under the façade of hard-headed Minister. I was a fine wife to Macroy."
"I'm sorry about him."
"So am I. I did care deeply for him, even if he wound up on the wrong side. I tried to get him to see reason and surrender but…" She sighed deeply, a tear running.
"You know he didn't leave me on Terminus, as I've heard some say." She eyed Pritcher. "He was liaison to the Trading Worlds after the alliance was formed and he simply wasn't able to return after the defeats at Mayceen and Corporellan and the surrender."
"I never thought him the type."
"A very good man, a wonderful husband. I honestly mourned him." She shook head. "But it's how things go at times. At least I…Not that She would have asked me to." Anxious glance at him.
"I'd probably betray someone I cared for if She asked, Iriana, we can't help it." He noted quietly, a slight look of stress.
"It wouldn't have been betrayal, exactly. I just would have helped Her make him see how right her cause is, how important the triumph of the Union is for Humanity." Her eyes shining. "Still, I'm glad he never thought I'd betrayed him or the Foundation. Han…? Aren't you lonely, sometimes? I am." She put a hand on his arm. "We could be very happy and very useful to Her and the Union, together. Anyway, I don't mean to press. Just, hows about a little junket with an escaping Minister? After all we're under orders." Grin.
"Tell me…" she eyed his somewhat tense face. "Have you been with any other woman since Mayris died?"
"No." he said simply. "At first, I couldn't be. Then work, troubles at work, the war…Now."
"I spoke for you at your courtsmartial back then. Your lawyer took my statement as a character witness. I did what I could."
"Thanks." Nod.
"And now, we've survived." She beamed. "And we got a chance to help Her save the Galaxy. But, part of that help is keeping ourselves well and happy, you know?"
"I know." He shrugged.
"Well, think about it. Seriously." She beamed.
"Iriana Macroy nee Hardin…" a slightly drunken voice called.
"Ah…Holis." She and Pritcher turned to see the Entertainment King, Holis Marti…Balding and beaming,…And Unconverted, having "seen the light" after that terrible day in the Time Vault on Terminus where the mighty Foundation had crumbled. The Mule, amused and reasonable…And not willing to tire her mentalic power on such a Conversion…Had, after careful, cautious probing, not being so foolish as to assume he could not be dangerous…Allowed him to continue his career as he put it "For the Entertainment of the People". After all, so long as his mind remained fixed on profits to be gained…Though for sure he mourned…Really…The deaths and all. And been shocked as all others were, to find the little girlie he'd helped promote as the Foundation's, nay, the Galaxy's music and holoperforming sensation, Magnifica Gigantica, was actually the Mule herself, now First Citizen.
And he had taken a hit on what he could have made when she kindly but firmly terminated that musical career under his wing. Though indeed she still occasionally gave performances, designed to strengthen loyalty to Her and the Union and overall morale.
But a man has to make a credit, right? And people need to entertained out of their dull lives. Things weren't bad, it seemed, under the Mule…Better really, to his mind, then under Indbur III with his security boys always running about, censoring or with hands out to be greased. In the Union, you don't grease…At least not too openly…Unless you want to have your mind reshaped. But that's ok, nice to keep things above board, generally.
Though, naturally, as he saw it, the Mule had probed him. And did so on every visit to the Foundation or any other function he still managed for her…It being, as he conceded without protest, common sense. Those mind guys of the Second Foundation, if they could, would no doubt love to strike at her through him, her old promoter and manager. Though now, any such, done at her, and her ministers, direction, with that same view to strengthening her hold. He always passed with flying colors.
Pritcher, naturally, found the man a bit tiresome, but understood his usefulness. The First worked through others, like any ruler She could not do everything, be everywhere, and propaganda and simple entertainment and morale boosting was important.
Iriana, as she told him later, found Holis amusing…Though she respected his instinctive understanding of what the public wanted. He was no artist himself, except in the art of promotion but he understood and appreciated talent in his own, admittedly crude, but successful, way. He had adapted to the Indbur regime and now adapted contentedly to the Union. If the Union became a full Galactic Empire, he'd happily adapt to that. If it failed, well…He'd adapt. He was above all, a survivor. Thought not a truly selfish one, he'd been quick to help with money and food for the population of Terminus and other Foundation worlds when the initial collapse and inevitable disorganization had threatened supplies. In his own way, he was a patriot in what matters, given the old government had never exactly been a free one in the way the Foundation had been formed or claimed in its own propaganda.
"And General…Han…Prit…cher." Marti noted. "I remember when you were on trial, back in the old days. Times have changed, eh?"
"They have, Holis. And we must change with them." Iriana smiled.
"Yeah. You know Eb Mis is dead. I heard back on Terminus he died on Trantor."Marti noted.
"It's a great regret to the First that he did." Pritcher noted stiffly.
"Yeah. I was sorry to hear. I heard he was doing research or something…Was it for the Girl…The First, I mean." As Pritcher stiffened slightly.
"Holis, She's not your girl or client anymore, you know." Iriana teased, lightly.
"Yeah…Shame. She was great." He noted.
"It was, in a way, as to Mis. The First was hoping to benefit from his work." Pritcher noted.
"Real shame. A bright, bright guy. I never understood half of what he was doing but he was a pal you could have a drink or two with." Marti sighed. "I miss those days, a lot. No offense, Pritcher…I'm good with things now."
"I understand. Change can be hard." Pritcher, quietly.
"What happened to his girl? The black-haired, young one?"
"She died in the Time Vault. A sudden attack of some sort, I believe, during the assault. Not wounding or injury. No one to blame." Pritcher noted.
No need to mention poor Ms. Devers' positronic brain had frozen permanently under the use of the Mule's Neutralizing Field during the final attack on the Foundation capital, Terminus. The Mule herself had had nothing but regret about it, Mylin being one of those she'd considered a dear friend to her character as Magnifica the clown/musician/victim of the Mule. But she'd not known the poor kid was a biological robot, though the true granddaughter of the famed, tragic Latham Devers and there was nothing that could be done.
"Mis musta taken that hard." Marti sighed.
"I'm sure he did, Holis." Iriana nodded. "But, here we are…And we must make the best of things."
"Oh, sure…" nod. "Where there's life, there's hope, ya know?"
Pritcher looking over to where the Emperor sat, surrounded, noted Channis had reappeared, with the requested pillow which he was attempting to offer, but blocked by several flunkeys.
Well, at least he obeys orders, he thought…As Channis continued to try to explain his mission.
Holis strolling off now…Moving swiftly to engage several important figures in conversation about entertainment opportunities on their worlds.
"Drunk or no, Marti never misses a trick. Who's the boy?" Iriana had followed Pritcher's glance to Channis.
"A young lieutenant whose ego and ambition's a bit overlarge." Pritcher noted as Channis, having successfully, finally passed his entrusted object on, only to have Dagobert politely and kindly refuse its use, caught his eye and saluted, just a touch of irony in that formal salute.
Pritcher returning crisply…
"Not a protégé, I assume?" Iriana eyed him.
"No." Pritcher shook head. "But I think I will keep an eye on him."
"Always wise." Iriana nodded. "I doubt he's Converted. And they're the ones who would sell the First out in a heartbeat once the victory parade slows down."
"Yes." He frowned.
"Still, they have their uses. And the First can't spend all her time converting whole populations though she tries to encourage morale." The woman noted. "Marti for example may talk too much and reminisce about the old days a little but he's capable in his field. I know you don't care for him and his folderol."
"I know it's necessary…And useful, like this reception." Pritcher smiled. "And so long as the First feels he's safe."
"She likes him, actually." Iriana smiled. "Holis did unpressured give her her 'big break' back on Terminus, which of course helped in the Conquest. She may have pushed poor Eb Mis to call on his services but Holis himself simply recognized her talent. And his manner amuses her. You know he still tends to forget who and what she is and talks to her as if she were still his protégé, under contract. And the joke is…?"smile. "She's never terminated that contract. He still gets royalties from her performances."
Pritcher stared.
"It's true. But as I say, she likes him. He's the one member of her old 'family' on Terminus, besides you…" fond smile. "She still has."
"It's a shame the Dartells couldn't see reason." He sighed. "She'd love to keep them with her. Though I suppose I understand their feelings. They've returned to Terminus, I hear."
"Yes…For the best, I'm sure." Iriana nodded. "The recoronation would only hurt them. Amazing really how Fate works. Who would think the First would have such feeling for those three, five I guess, with Mylin and poor Mis?"
"They're fine people. Good patriots in their way, and brave. But nothing will change their feelings but the First and She wouldn't. Frankly…" Pritcher sighed. "I'd be worried if they did approach her. I'd be sure they were either plotting or being used by the Seconders. But they've gone back to their private lives and it's surely for the best."
"Yes. Han? You mentioned the Seconders, so I'll ask. Is She in danger?" Iriana eyed him, anxiety on her face.
"There's always danger for a ruler. Uneasy lies, you know." He shrugged. "She can protect herself and we're doing all we can to locate them."
"And you and She are sure they exist?" Iriana asked.
"No question in my mind. I've met one, actually. On Sesa, when I was looking into the Mule's past, before my Conversion." Pritcher explained. "He seemed limited in ability but he definitely had mentalic power. My old colleague Goldan had some ability and confirmed it. But all we can do is trust in the First and do our best."
"I know. And we will." Sigh. "Well, Harla Mallow told me what a time she had, tracking you down." Iriana smiled. "I'd be jealous of such zeal, frankly, if she weren't married now."
"She's a fine officer and an excellent Intel chief. The Foundation's security is safe with her." Pritcher nodded. "I'm glad she's found some happiness in her private life. The First is, too."
"And you should." Iriana noted, firmly.
"Well, there's much to be done. But…I am under orders to rest up a bit."
"Then you'll consider my offer?"
"I will." Nod, smile.
"I hope so…I think I could make you very happy, Han. And the same for me if you're up to making the effort." She eyed him.
"I could be persuaded to do my best." He smiled.
"What woman could resist such an offer…?" she noted, batting her eyes in mocking fashion. "Well, coming from Han Pritcher, I know it's the best I can hope for. I expect you'll do your duty, General." Mock solemn look.
…