“But you are curious,” Daneel said.
“Yes, of course.”
“I will not supply you with the facts.”
“I did not expect you would.”
For a moment the two figures stood in silence, observing each other.
“How many centuries?” Chen asked quietly. “Over two hundred centuries,” Daneel said.
Chen’s eyes widened. “The history you have seen!”
“It is not in my capacity to keep it all in primary storage,” Daneel said. “It is spread in safe stores all over the Galaxy, bits and pieces of my lives, of which I retain only synopses.”
“An Eternal!” Chen said. For the first time there was a touch of wonder in his voice.
“My time is done, almost,” Daneel said. “I have been in existence for far too long.”
“All the robots must move out of the way, now,” Chen concurred. “The signs are clear. Too much interference. These strong mentalics--they will occur again. The human skin wrinkles at your presence, and tries to throw you off.”
“They are a problem I did not foresee when I set Hari on his path.”
“You speak of him as a friend,” Chen observed, “with almost human affection.”
“He is a friend. As were many humans before him.”
“Well, I cannot be one of your friends. You terrify me, Demerzel. I know that I can never have complete control with you in existence, and yet if I destroy you, I will be dead within a year or two. Seldon’s psychohistory implies as much. I am in the peculiar position of having to believe the truth of a science I instinctively despise. Not a comfortable position.”
“No.”
“Do you have a solution for this problem of supermentalics? I gather that Hari Seldon sees their existence as a fatal blow to his work.”
“There is a solution,” Daneel said. “I must speak with Hari, in the presence of the girl, Klia Asgar, and her mate, Brann. And Lodovik Trema must be there as well.”
“Lodovik!” Chen tightened his jaw. “That is what I resent most. Of all the...people...I have relied on over the years, I confess only Lodovik Trema inspired affection in me, a weakness he never betrayed...until now.”
“He has betrayed nothing.”
“He betrayed you, if I am not wrong.”
“He betrayed nothing,” Daneel repeated. “He is part of the path, and he corrects where I have been blind.”
“So you want the young woman mentalic,” Chen said. “And you want her alive. I had planned to execute her. Her kind is as dangerous as vipers.”
“She is essential to reconstructing Hari Seldon’s Project,” Daneel said.
Another silence. Then, in the middle of the great unfinished hall, Chen said, “So it shall be. Then it is over. You must all leave. All but Seldon. As was agreed in the trial. And I will give into your care the things I do not wish to be responsible for--the artifacts. The remains of the other robots. The bodies of your enemies, Daneel.”
“They were never my enemies, sire.”
Chen regarded him with a queer expression. “You owe me nothing. I owe you nothing. Trantor is done with you, forever. This is realpolitik, Demerzel, of the kind you have engaged in for so many thousands of years, at the cost of so many human lives. You are no better than me, robot, in the end.”
85.
Mors Planch was taken from his cell in the Specials security bloc of Rikerian, far beneath the almost civilized cells where Seldon had been kept. He was given his personal goods and released without restrictions.
He dreaded his release more than incarceration, until he learned that Farad Sinter was dead, then he wondered if he had been part of some intricate conspiracy arranged by Linge Chen--and perhaps by the robots.
He enjoyed this confusing freedom for one day. Then, at his newly leased apartment in the Gessim Sector, hundreds of kilometers from the palace, and not nearly far enough, he received an unexpected visitor.
The robot’s facial structure had changed slightly since Mors had made the unfortunate automatic record of his conversation with Lodovik Trema. Still, Mors recognized him instantly
Daneel stood in the vestibule just beyond the door, while Mors observed him on the security screen. He suspected it would be useless to try any evasion, or simply to leave the door unanswered. Besides, after all this time, his worst trait was coming to the fore once again.
He was curious. If death was inevitable, he hoped to have time to answer a few questions.
He opened the door.
“I’ve been half expecting you,” Mors said. “Though I don’t really know who or what you are. I must assume you are not here to kill me.”
Daneel smiled stiffly and entered. Mors watched him pass into the apartment and studied this tall, well-built, apparently male machine. The quiet restrained grace, the sense of immense but gentle strength, must have stood this Eternal in good stead over the millennia. What genius had designed and built him--and for what purpose? Surely not as a mere servant! Yet that was what the mythical robots had once been--mere servants.
“I am not here to take revenge,” Daneel said.
“So reassuring,” Mors said, taking a seat in the small dining area, the only room other than the combined bath and bedroom.
“In a few days, there will be an order from the Emperor for you to leave Trantor.”
Mors pursed his lips. “How sad,” he said. “Klayus doesn’t like me.” But the irony was lost on Daneel, or irrelevant.
“I have need of a very good pilot,” Daneel said. “One who has no hope of going anywhere in the Empire and surviving.”