You... You were supposed to be the one.
You were supposed to be the one in the pod, not her.
Why did you put her in the pod? Why did you put her in the pod?
Idolatry will feed his sickness.
Second Foundation…
She's not gonna talk to you, is she?
You would believe her. She solved the last puzzle.
Gods made wine to compensate those who cannot afford revenge.
The gods made knives to satisfy those who can't digest your grandest plan.
I have a plan.
You wouldn't have changed your precious Plan, Hari, don't lie.
If you told me, you-you'd never have changed your Plan.
Yes, but the Radiant can't predict,
can't account for the... The actions of individuals.
It's not my fault. It's not my fault.
You know nothing.
You wanna be in control? You know nothing!
You're nothing but a petulant child.
If you shared your great Plan with people,
maybe they could help you.
You saw what happened to me on the Raven.
There's an old saying.
Any man can be a success, but it takes a madman to be great.
Something's happening.
My name is Salvor Hardin.
I'm your daughter.
I don't have a daughter.
Are you Gaal Dornick?
Then I've got an update
about a certain embryo you may or may not remember donating.
Oh, gods.
Time? I-I... I was in cryosleep, I...
Yeah, me too.
Guess we both slept our way into the future.
How old are you? Biologically?
Older than you, I'd wager.
Salvor Hardin.
- Mari Hardin. - Carried me.
Raised me.
But I was always yours. I think.
I sort of know things.
Like, I knew to come here to find you.
Did you come here to find me? Maybe you heard a voice calling you, or...
No.
I'm sorry. Let's start over.
Okay.
What do I call you? 'Cause "Mom" feels a little loaded.
How about just "Gaal"? For now.
Okay. Then tell me about you, Gaal.
How you got those scars in your cheeks.
Tell me about my father, Raych.
How those rings above us got there.
Tell me everything.
As waters rise, territories shrink.
That's what happened on Synnax, and that's what happened with Empire.
Day by day, decade by decade,
the First Foundation nibbled away planets from edges of Empire.
And Empire steadily contracted.
Harder, Empire!
- Please. - No. Just be you. Your voice.
Yes, Empire.
Not Empire.
Cleon. Cleon.
Yeah.
I'm close. Yeah.
I'm with you.
Open your eyes, Cleon. Look at me.
If you think you can breach my aura...
Cleon.
Demerzel.
Empire has received a blaster shot to his left deltoid
and penetrating thoracic trauma.
A nanotoxin was delivered via molecular blade.
We have 12 seconds before edema leads to brain stem death. Give it to me.
Empire will recover. Stabilize him.
If he asks, tell him I needed mending.
It's you again.
Hari?
3D object. 2D shadow. Smart boy.
Smart?
I paid for that book.
Three-dimensional shadow. Four-dimensional object.
Four-dimensional space.
Yanna?
My love.
But you're dead.
So are you.
I've missed you.
Yanna, the galaxy, it's... it's breaking.
Something's breaking the future.
Maybe I... I need to fix it.
I need your help.
Oh, my soul, I wish you weren't just a dream.
I'd find some moonlight to irritate you.
You have doubts.
I am real.
Prove it.
You'd let me make the case for myself.
Premise one, that implies statement two.
Step-by-step.
One, two, three.
QED.
You're not Yanna. I know my life-mate.
Who are you really?
The way you're speaking, I...
You like work.
Work it out.
Free your mind.
Salvor!
Salvor.
What were you doing in there? I thought you drowned.
I wake up early.
I have this instinct to walk the perimeter wherever I am.
So I took your boat, did some bowfishing.
Fish here practically volunteer.
I'm sorry.
I panicked.
I have dreams sometimes.
About things that will happen.
You dreamt the future?
I think I can feel the future.
That's funny 'cause I have dreams about the past.
Your past.
I guess we have that in common.
Both sleep like shit.
It's not really the same thing.
Right.
Nothing in common then.
Except for that, I guess.
Why haven't you activated it yet?
I don't have the right tools.
Remember those instincts I told you about?
- They tell me when someone's lying. - I'm not lying.
My coin says you are.
It had been 173 years
since the Foundation had been exiled to Terminus.
And just like Synnax, the dark waters were now rising everywhere.
The Foundation had flourished,
but a flourishing Foundation posed a threat.
How long would it be before Empire thrashed like a drowning man?
Not long at all, as it turned out.
Warden. That siren, I've never heard it before.
No one has in 138 years.
It's the Vault.
Warden, is this what I think it is?
Null field's definitely subsiding, Director.
Another few seconds, and it'll be safe to approach.
Seldon said he would return, but I never imagined I'd live to see him.
And you still may not. Have a walk with me.
Been 20 minutes. No doorway.
- No Seldon. Not yet. - Not yet?
I think the prophet's giving us time to get ready.
- For what? - War. With Empire.
We're still in the building phase.
I've been saying if this is gonna be a hot war...
Seldon said it was inevitable.
We always knew we were living on borrowed time.
Warden.
Brigadier, the military always feels there's more preparation to be done.
But I venture we're ready for whatever news Seldon will bring.
I just wish he'd bring it already.
Hari Seldon was always a little adrift, if you ask me.
He was aware of the rising seas from an early age.
Before he knew which questions were too crazy to ask.
And when his thoughts led him to strange new conclusions,
he didn't reject them.
Who are you? Why approach me as Yanna?
It's too long you've been kept all alone. And you needed a face you could trust.
Establishing trust, that's an interrogator's technique,
not a life-mate's.
And the way you're speaking, that cadence.
"I was lonely…" And then something
- about "the rhythm of the words…" - Rhythm of the words.
What was that? That's a quote, but from whom?
Gaal Dornick, my tormentor.
Something she said a lifetime ago.
Think, Hari.
She's speaking in verse.
Two unstressed syllables, one stressed.
Nine syllables per line.
Anapestic trimeter. Very few poets use it.
But I know of one poet-mathematician who did.
Kalle.
Author of the Ninth Proof of Folding.
Very good. And now do you know where you are?
I was in one prison, now I'm in another.
I was moved to the space Yanna and I folded using your formulations.
I'm in the Prime Radiant.
I've trapped Hari Seldon inside.
But I left Hari on Terminus in the Vault.
I should've known he wouldn't have let Terminus carry on without him.
Then clearly he made a second copy of his consciousness
because I had one with me when I landed here,
in a data storage device.
- So there are two Haris now? - Well, apparently so.
I transferred him to the Prime Radiant last night, while you were sleeping.
- Why? - Because I don't trust him.
But Hari created the Foundation. And his Plan's been working.
Hari sacrifices everyone for the Plan, Salvor.
Look, you don't know him like I do. He...
He's always holding something back.
He encoded the entire Plan,
the future of the human race… in this.
You know what I think?
I don't think it's Hari you're scared of.
I think it's the Plan itself.
Maybe that's what your nightmare was about.
It's been, what, 138 years since we were last awake?
For all we know, the fall has already happened out there.
And just speaking for me, but I'd like to know where the galaxy stands.
Show me how it works.
It's a movement combination.
There's a tap at the beginning, then a sort of flourish.
That bad?
See this node?
That was the first crisis.
The one you helped solve.
Now, we're advancing through time 138 years, until today.
Is that another crisis?
The second crisis. Right on our doorstep.
- Well, we survived the first one. - Only because of you.
It was supposed to be me solving it, but I wasn't there and, the thing is,
this one's even bigger than the last crisis.
Watch.
I don't understand.
The blue line was the trajectory mankind was supposed to follow.
The future Hari had accounted for.
The red line is what's actually happened since the last crisis.
That's where we really are.
- The Plan's veering off course? - Yes.
This one. Call it the third crisis.
It's a turning point.
If it isn't handled,
then there's crisis four, five, a thousand.
If we don't start preparing for it now,
the age of darkness Hari predicted gets longer, not shorter.
How long?
So long that it might never end.
- What are you doing to him? - Empire refused anesthesia.
Not a chance I'd let these butchers put me to sleep...
Risk them decanting another me!
For all I know, they were in on the attempt.
For all I know, you were!
You can't possibly think I could've done this.
The alliance. The marriage. You hate!
- Am I done? - Yes, Empire, but you really must r...
Utter the word "rest," and you die.
Help me up.
Somebody get me a damn blasted robe so my manhood isn't flapping around!
- Empire. - Who were they, Shadowmaster?
- Blind Angels. - Angels?
Damnation. They always seemed like a myth.
Dark sector training, everything psycho-encrypted.
We'll get nothing from their side.
So, did they exploit someone's gross negligence,
or were they assisted?
One of them entered through the servant's way.
Empire, I...
I want every shade here taken to the inquisitors for interrogation.
Leave us.
I was frightened today.
Well, we're not impervious to it.
Cleon XIII knew fear.
I didn't wanna die.
I knew another Day could be decanted, and no one would be aware it'd happened.
But if that razor sword went through my neck,
it would end me.
I suppose that's the altered genome.
I feel like a singular soul.
Don't you feel like a singular soul?
Having children won't make you immortal.
Just the opposite.
Children are meant to replace us.
That's the whole point of them, isn't it?
And if you do have them, then the day you die…
You are gone.
And then it's really the last of you.
What we are now, as brothers, it's something more than that.
It is. It's something that's...
No, no. I want you to speak plain.
You and Dusk have been choosing your words so carefully.
I thank you for your honesty. Come here.
You and Dusk will submit to an independent neural audit.
What?
They will comb through your memory engrams.
Check the Memorium.
- You think that we could've done this? - Under normal circumstances, no.
But I can see how threatened you both are by my impending marriage.
We have nothing to hide.
Good.
You all right?
I will be fine, Empire. My consciousness is decentralized.
- Are you all right? - Yes, it's just...
What we've been doing,
it isn't indecent, is it?
Any gift that's given freely out of love is never indecent.
A moment of privacy, perhaps?
Yes. Of course.
They had just started building these rings when I left Trantor.
There were signs all over,
describing them as a frill around the neck of a lizard.
A symbol of strength and intimidation.
Really?
And here I understood that lizards raise their frills when they're frightened.
They're right to be afraid of you.
What are you doing bedding Demerzel?
Cleon I was well acquainted with her in that way, why shouldn't I get to be?
Because she changed your diaper when you were a child, for one.
And two, it's an abuse of your position.
Rest assured, she's enjoying my position very much.
She's the one who first initiated.
In any case, it's a good thing she was there.
They were in my bedroom, brother.
Even worse, my aura failed me.
Someone tampered with it.
Hire an outside firm to investigate.
Internal security is either incompetent, or they're in on it.
But remember to look outward, not just inward.
- How very exculpating of you. - Yeah.
Foreigners seem more foreign every year. Even the ones we embrace.
They're your guests. Your proposal.
Queen's advance team was much larger than I expected.
Which could have created opportunities.
Some people say
she engineered the accident that put the crown on her head.
Of course, if she's going to kill you,
she'd be wiser to wait till after you're married.
Convenient for you and Dawn if it doesn't come off.
I have yet to commit to this union.
Nor has Queen Sareth for that matter.
But you're leaning into the idea.
We can't keep going on like... Like we are now.
Drifting further and further from our genetic origin.
Deep down, you and even Dawn must surely grasp that.
Must we?
We are drifting, surely.
But steering into the rapids seems an odd cure.
But it is the boldest one.
It's time the Empire learned how to paddle again, brother.
Feels like I can see it getting higher.
There's almost nothing left. This place now, this isn't home.
Maybe it's just where we came to find each other.
If there's any chance of making a better future, I bet it's up there.
How? Your ship's been down there for years. There's coral growing on it.
The Beggar's tough.
Bit of water damage and some pretty coral won't put her down for the count.
And the hole in the hull?
Imperial patrol tagged her before I went into cryo.
If I could access the CPU,
I could do a hard reboot and cycle an engine purge.
The ship should just pop back up to the surface like a cork.
It's about 12 meters to the hull, maybe another 30 to the bridge.
Another minute once I'm there for the reboot.
And I am dead. I can't hold my breath for that long.
You can if I'm down there with you.
I don't know how to reboot a ship, but I do know how to hold my breath.
I can give you some of mine when we reach the bridge.
Some of yours? What if you drown?
Brain damage doesn't set in for at least four minutes.
You'll have time.
- No. - You saw the math.
It's not just one crisis we have to survive, it's multiple crises.
But we better do it fast, or we're both dead anyway.
Those sea sirens, normally they're pale, white.
All that red, bright like that, means they're saturating themselves with oxygen.
Means they're getting ready to dive into deeper water.
- Is that a good thing or a bad thing? - Bad.
Means a hurricane's coming.
Describe the routes inside.
A right, and then a... a left, and then a second right after the turning.
- I'll pull you once we're in. - Wait, right now?
Right now. Don't think about it. Just commit.
Three deep breaths.
In, out. In, out. In, then we dive.
Gaal!
Gaal.
- Did we do it? - We did it.
It hurts so bad.
You're the last person I know, you are not allowed to die!
I'm not trying to...
I'm trying to breathe. Don't!
Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that was...
You don't have to be sorry. It's weird. I know... I know it's weird.
You know, this isn't how I thought it would be.
I had this idea that I could find you, and I thought by some miracle if I did,
there would be this connection between us.
And I'd see you, and I'd feel like…
Now I make sense.
We've known each other a day.
Salvor, you had time to imagine what this reunion might be like,
and I didn't.
So it's a shock.
Maybe one day this will be less strange, and maybe it won't, I don't know yet.
Right.
We'll play it by ear.
Listen, everyone I ever knew,
everyone I loved, is behind me.
That is rare and terrible, and we share that.
This is the water we come from. We are the last Synnaxians.
Even if you don't really swim like one.
Welcome to Trantor. The eye of the Empire.
Please respect and enjoy the peace.
I am Empire, Cleon XVII.
Empire, I am Rue, enjoiner to the queen.
Allow me to present the doyen of the Trade Leagues,
prime witness of the Cloud Cathedral and most excellent queen,
Sareth the First, sole descendant of Dominion.
So many titles, and yet you omit the most intriguing one. Bride-to-be.
Provisional.
Indeed. Allow me to present Empires Dusk and Dawn.
Well, they manage a kind look for the usurper.
Thank you, gentlemen.
Empire, it is to you, the three of you, I present our gift.
Samples of our rarest pigments. Usually reserved for domestic use.
Extraordinary.
All the imperial blues in pure form.
And Cloud itself, that's what they're wearing.
Color of a storm cloud.
Nearly impossible to procure in a form that does not fade.
Dominion pioneered the science of active chroma
which adorn our mural walls.
Thank you, Rue.
And a gift from myself.
Trantor. Nicely rendered in brass.
It represents what is being offered to you.
It's beautiful.
But Empire is larger than Trantor, surely.
Or is this a vision of a diminished future?
I'm sorry?
The orbital rings adorning this world are impressive.
But surely there are more efficient ways to launch payloads into space?
When ruling a realm so large, evoking awe often trumps efficiency.
Nevertheless.
One wouldn't want to misinterpret them as an overcompensation for weakness.
Empire, a matter has come up.
You may speak in front of your future empress.
I cannot.
A body possessing imperial nanites was recently recovered.
It had been floating in space for over a century.
Commander Dorwin was dispatched to the Outer Reach by your ascendant,
Cleon XII, to investigate a comms buoy that had gone dark near Terminus.
Allegedly, his ship was destroyed by a mega-flare,
which presumably destroyed all life in the system.
Presumably? Wasn't an official inquest launched?
No. The incident was contemporary news with our discovery
that the Genetic Dynasty had been corrupted.
So we got distracted and dropped the ball.
I'm recording this message via a neural implant.
An Anacreon war party sabotaged the comms buoy
and were laying in wait for us on Terminus.
My crew is dead. They have taken myself and a handful of Foundationers hostage.
The Anacreons have located a derelict war ship called the Invictus.
Apparently, its jump drives are still active...
Crying for help into the void. Even your last living action is weak.
We know they successfully boarded the Invictus.
The commander's implant recorded that.
He was killed shortly thereafter.
This was more than a century ago?
Even if they did take command of it, they wouldn't have had Spacers.
The ancient fleet did not use Spacers.
The ships were too ungainly compared to our current vessels,
and the jumps were very violent.
Fine. So the Anacreons got their hands on some working jumpship,
but clearly, they didn't use them.
The Outer Reach has been dark since we cut it loose.
What if that darkness was by design, rather than desperation?
Spectral reconnaissance has confirmed there was no mega-flare.
After receiving this transmission,
I checked the reports of our observers in the Periphery.
There have been rumors of an alliance at the edge of the galaxy,
led by magicians who glow in the darkness and fly unaided through the air,
and whom weapons cannot touch.
Who speak of a galactic spirit
who will return and guide his people to a promised new age.
Seldon. So you're saying his Foundation never withered away, they flourished?
We should never have let them go.
Only Empire commands the stars.
Crush them. Now.
Not yet, Empire.
You bring us this, and then you counsel restraint?
I do. The implications demand investigation.
But waging a war based on unproven innuendo strikes me as an ill wind.
I'd rather not revisit the lessons gleaned after the bombing of Anacreon and Thespis.
She's right. We'll let the Foundation keep on playing dead
while we determine how far their influence extends.
Has the rot taken a few outwardly branches,
or has it spread to the trunk?
Our tree does seem to be embattled, doesn't it?
Magicians, Angels,
provisional brides.
Everyone hacking away at our branches.
Get your house in order, brother.
I'm so glad you worked out who I am
so I can stop speaking in meter.
It's lovely for writing, but so very awkward for speaking.
You're not Kalle, are you? Any more than you were Yanna.
You've got parts of both of them in you, but you're something else.
Something new.
Say it.
Are you the Radiant?
Show your work.
The Prime Radiant has Yanna's math in it
and Kalle's, of course, from a distance.
It's an adaptive, predictive four-dimensional model
that takes in new data.
It learns, but that's different from having self-awareness
or an inherited memory of either women.
If the model developed purpose-driven behavior, acquired agency...
No, it can't do that, not based on the parameters I designed.
But you're not the only designer.
As you said, Kalle and Yanna contributed.
Your work was always incomplete.
Perhaps I am its completion.
If you're the Prime Radiant, what's your goal?
I have a vested interest in humanity's destiny.
Oh, well, that's worrying.
I wish you'd say you had a vested interest in our survival.
Isn't it the same thing?
It isn't. And you should know that.
Well, the creator and his creation have reached an impasse.
I think it's time for you to go.
You'll help me escape then?
I can't. I'm not the one who imprisoned you.
What is the point of this charade?
Your mind is damaged, Hari. It has been damaged for a long time.
I am trying to help you knit it back together.
If you want out, think.
I can't. I can't. I...
I'm not up to navigating it in four dimensions right now.
So, what's a boy to do?
3D object. 2D shadow.
Reducing the dimensions.
Flattening, unfolding it.
Good luck. Once you make it out, we can talk next steps.
I'll explain more if you can meet me in Oona's world.
The effort? I won't regret it?
You'll appreciate it down to your bones.
Shit! It's not good.
The Beggar was able to self-heal the breach,
but there's a fault somewhere in the avionics.
- How long will it take to find? - I don't know. It's all ones and zeros.
It could take months to sort through the opcode.
We don't even have hours.
You have to let him out, Gaal.
- No. - He's a digital ghost.
We let him loose, he'll probably find the fault in seconds.
I can't. Hari and I didn't part on good terms.
It's too risky.
Look at where we are. He's our only chance to get off Synnax.
What use are we to the Plan if we're dead?
Gaal Dornick!
It's time you and I had a reckoning.