"Asimov, Isaac - Brin, David - Foundations Triumph" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asimov Isaac)

Even now, with the ancient treasure safely ensconced in a secret niche of Klia Askar's house, Dors could not yet bring herself to access its stored memories.

Instead, she stared at it, knowing exactly what she was looking at.

The head was a trap.

A lure.

A test of faith, her Joan of Arc simulation would call it, as irresistible as any temptation faced by a human being.

If Lodovic wanted her to look inside, that must mean it contained something intoxicating, possibly a poison.

Something dangerous and unknown, despite the fact that she already had a clear name for it.

The truth.



-10-



Looking from his hotel-room balcony across the tree-lined avenues of Galactic Boulevard, it seemed easy for Hari to imagine this was some bucolic world of the periphery, not the "second imperial capital."

Of course, there were statues and imposing monuments, gleaming in the sun. Countless commemorative shrines had been erected here during the last fifteen millennia, celebrating emperors and prefects, victories and victims, great events and greater accomplishments. Still, in contrast to mighty Trantor, everything seemed small of scale and slow of pace, befitting Demarchia's true status as the forgotten junior partner, forsaken by power.

Even the Eight Houses of Parliament, glorious white structures that shone like diadems in a ring around Deliberation Hill, seemed somehow forlorn and irrelevant. Each of the five social castes still sent representatives to argue over points of law. And the three upper chambers occasionally managed to agree upon a bill or two. But ever since Hari's tenure as First Minister ended, there had been very little of consequence to emerge from those sacred halls. The Executive Council on Trantor ruled mostly by decree, and those decrees were largely fashioned by Linge Chen's Commission for Public Safety.

Not that specific laws mattered very much. Psychohistory predicted what would happen next. If Linge Chen were replaced tomorrow in some palace coup, the momentum of events would impel his successor in identical ways. Some cliques would win and others lose. But over the course of the next thirty years, the average of forces-taken across twenty-five million worlds- would overwhelm any initiatives attempted by commissioners, emperors, or oligarchic cabals.

And yet, a romantic part of Hari always felt saddened by Demarchia. The place struck him as a personification of lost opportunity. A might-have-been.

In theory, democracy is supposed to predominate over all the machinations of the gentry class. Even the worst imperial tyrants have always paid lip service to that principle of Ruellianism.

But in practice it was hard to implement. The Cumulative House, the Senate of Sectors, and the Assembly of Trades were all supposed to compensate for each other's faults, bringing representatives to Demarchia who were chosen in widely diverse ways. But the net result seemed always the same-a sapping of energy and dynamism. As First Minister, he had found it agonizing to get legislation passed-such as the emergency Chaos Suppression Law-even though his knowledge of psychohistory principles made him unusually effective compared to others.

In those days, Daneel and I still thought it could be fixed. . . the whole great Empire of Humanity. But back then my equations were still incomplete. They left some room for doubt. For hope.

Since Hari's tenure in office ended, Demarchia had become a backwater. A place to exile failed politicians. No one of importance bothered with it anymore.

Which suits our purpose in coming here now, he thought with a grim smile. This time, Demarchia was not a destination, but a convenient launching-off point.

"Professor Seldon?" Horis Antic's voice murmured behind Hari, from within the hotel room. As the next stage of their adventure approached, the portly bureaucrat grew increasingly nervous.

"I-I've just heard from the, uh, individual we talked about earlier. He says arrangements have been made. We're to meet him at his vehicle in an hour."

Hari touched a control and turned his mobile chair around, gliding back inside. Antic's convoluted speech, a precaution against possible bugging devices, would almost certainly be futile if they were under serious surveillance. Besides, up until now, no one had committed a single crime.

"Has your equipment arrived, Horis?"