"It was out of character. How could he possibly do such a thing without being under outside influence, and I began to wonder if the only purpose might not be to introduce into my confidence a real agent of the Second Foundation. Well, it was so-"
He sighed and closed his own eyes for a moment.
Semic put in hesitantly, "What will we do with all of them... these Second Foundation fellas?"
"I don't know," said Darell, sadly. "We could exile them, I suppose. There's Zoranel, for instance. They can be placed there and the planet saturated with Mind Static. The sexes can be separated, or, better still, they can be sterilized - and in fifty years, the Second Foundation will be a thing of the past. Or perhaps a quiet death for all of them would be kinder."
"Do you suppose," said Turbor, "we could learn the use of this sense of theirs. Or are they born with it, like the Mule."
"I don't know. I think it is developed through long training, since there are indications from encephalography that the potentialities of it are latent in the human mind. But what do you want that sense for? It hasn't helped them."
He frowned.
Though he said nothing, his thoughts were shouting.
It had been too easy - too easy. They had fallen, these invincibles, fallen like book-villains, and he didn't like it.
Galaxy! When can a man know he is not a puppet? How can a man know he is not a puppet?
Arcadia was coming home, and his thoughts shuddered away from that which he must face in the end.
She was home for a week, then two, and he could not loose the tight check upon those thoughts. How could he? She had changed from child to young woman in her absence, by some strange alchemy. She was his link to life; his link to a bittersweet marriage that scarcely outlasted his honeymoon.
And then, late one evening, he said as casually as he could, "Arcadia, what made you decide that Terminus contained both Foundations?"
They had been to the theater; in the best seats with private trimensional viewers for each; her dress was new for the occasion, and she was happy.
She stared at him for a moment, then tossed it off. "Oh, I Don't know, Father. It just came to me."
A layer of ice thickened about Dr. Darell's heart.
"Think," he said, intensely. "This is important. What made you decide both Foundations were on Terminus."
She frowned slightly. "Well, there was Lady Callia. I knew she was a Second Foundationer. Anthor said so, too."
"But she was on Kalgan," insisted Darell. "What made you decide on Terminus?"
And now Arcadia waited for several minutes before she answered. What had made her decide? What had made her decide?
She had the horrible sensation of something slipping just beyond her grasp.
She said, "She knew about things - Lady Callia did - and must have had her information from Terminus. Doesn't that sound right, Father?
But he just shook his head at her.
"Father," she cried, "I knew. The more I thought, the surer I was. It just made sense."
There was that lost look in her father's eyes, "It's no good, Arcadia. Its no good. Intuition is suspicious when concerned with the Second Foundation. You see that, don't you? It might have been intuition - and it might have been control!"
"Control! You mean they changed me? Oh, no. No, they couldn't." She was backing away from him. "But didn't Anthor say I was right? He admitted it. He admitted everything. And you've found the whole bunch right here on Trantor. Didn't you? Didn't you?" She was breathing quickly.
"I know, but- Arcadia, will you let me make an encephalographic analysis of your brain?'
She shook her head violently, "No, no! I'm too scared."
"Of me, Arcadia? There's nothing to be afraid of. But we must know. You see that, don't you?"
She interrupted him only once, after that. She clutched at his arm just before the last switch was thrown. "What if I am different, Father? What will you have to do?"
"I won't have to do anything, Arcadia. If you're different, we'll leave. Well go back to Trantor, you and I, and... and we won't care about anything else in the Galaxy."
Never in Darell's life had an analysis proceeded so slowly, cost him so much, and when it was over, Arcadia huddled down and dared not look. Then she heard him laugh and that was information enough. She jumped up and threw herself into his opened arms.
He was babbling wildly as they squeezed one another, "The house is under maximum Mind Static and your brain-waves are normal. We really have trapped them, Arcadia, and we can go back to living."
"Father," she gasped, "can we let them give us medals now?"
"How did you know I'd asked to be left out of it?" He held her at arm's mind; you know everything. All right, you can have your medal on a platform, with speeches."
"And Father?"
"Yes?"
"Can you call me Arkady from now on."
"But- Very well, Arkady."
Slowly the magnitude of the victory was soaking into him and saturating him. The Foundation - the First Foundation - now the only Foundation - was absolute master of the Galaxy. No further barrier stood between themselves and the Second Empire - the final fulfillment of Seldon's Plan.
They had only to reach for it-
Thanks to-
22. The Answer that was True
An unlocated room on an unlocated world!
And a man whose plan had worked.
The First Speaker looked up at the Student, "Fifty men and women," he said. "Fifty martyrs! They knew it meant death or permanent imprisonment and they could not even be oriented to prevent weakening - since orientation might have been detected. Yet they did not weaken. They brought the plan through, because they loved the greater Plan."