Empire, you honor us with your--
Psychohistory.
I'd like to know more.
We do possess some early volumes that I'm--
Kalle's Ninth Proof of Folding.
I understand it was a bedrock inspiration.
I'm sure Empire also understands it was banned by--
Cleon XII?
Yes.
It will be in the Rare Books collection.
This way. If it pleases.
I'm afraid only two people are allowed at a time.
Strict temperature control.
The legacy of Hari Seldon remains a delicate subject.
Obviously, these are kept more as artifacts than reading material.
I think I can avoid being corrupted.
I'm not afraid of history.
Do I need gloves?
If a librarian makes you wear gloves
to handle an old book, they're just trying to impress you.
You're more likely to damage the pages with gloves
than with your skin.
The actual touch of my hand is more benign than the hot breath of my bodyguards.
It's unexpected.
It always seemed to me that Raven Seldon had tried to warn, rather than threaten.
Empire has three heads. Do they all have room for ideas like these?
The original manuscript is said to be a singular text of silken pages
woven upon Thrax.
These are Thraxian silk.
Seldon gave the original manuscript away from this very library to Gaal Dornick.
She took it with her on the Deliverance, but she never made it to Terminus.
So how did this volume make its return?
That's a very interesting story.
But I'm not the one to tell it.
Then who can?
A colleague.
The same colleague who instructed me
that if anyone were to ask after this book,
anyone at all,
they would very much like to meet that person.
There's a teahouse in the Ery District.
Tomorrow night.
At low hour.
There'll be shells at the table.
They say they get their tea leaves from Jovan.
Definitely not true.
Jovan's a Foundation world now.
The tea's terrible, but I like it here anyway.
You're Gaal Dornick.
I watched holos of you from Hari Seldon's trial
from 300 years ago.
321.
- So, how are you-- - Here?
I was going to say alive.
There are lots of ways to live on.
Steady cycles of cryosleeping and waking, for one.
I'm the same Gaal Dornick you saw in your holos.
Well, then you've done the impossible.
You've made a Cleon feel like a very finite person.
Well, that's a worthy thing to be.
A friend taught me that.
Did you know I'd ask for the Ninth Proof?
We thought it might help us identify like minds.
Even we never expected to snag an emperor with it.
We, the Foundation?
Sort of.
New Terminus doesn't know I exist.
I'd love to keep it that way, if it's all the same to you.
Or I could have you arrested.
You won't.
You're here.
And you took pains to be here unnoticed.
It's idle curiosity.
I don't think it's so idle.
Looking at your disguise,
simple clothes, dyed contacts, applied facial hair...
It's a little bit patchy, by the way.
Face scramblers are traceable across Trantor,
thanks to one of my predecessors.
So, you put a lot of thought into it.
Why did you go to the library, Empire?
The Prime Radiant.
- Our adviser has it in her possession. - You have the Radiant?
You didn't know?
Seldon gave it to Demerzel just before the destruction of Terminus.
I was five when I first saw her use it.
When the math moved around, it was like...
the language of angels.
But her calculations are about what's best for the Genetic Dynasty.
- Not the rest of-- - Humanity.
There's no garment that fits a galaxy.
You're making this easy for me.
There are things you could do if you were inclined to.
Oh, let me guess.
Commit treason?
Help your sort of Foundation topple the Empire?
All empires fall, they need no help from us.
And anyway, is it treason if you're the one making the rules?
I hear the current Brother Day's dereliction of duty
may give you de facto power.
And soon.
You shouldn't know about Brother Day.
We know lots of things we shouldn't.
I can feel when I'm being handled.
If you nudge me too hard, you'll lose me.
And on that day, you can expose us and destroy me.
That's the risk I'm taking by coming to you.
Well, you haven't offered me anything yet.
What do you want?
Do you know what I think?
Dawn XIV tried to leave the palace with a gardener,
Dawn XVIII fled Trantor with a foreign queen--
And those Dawns were traitors.
- Deserters. - No.
They were just men who started to think for themselves.
You've seen the math.
Seen how it works.
It's made you think bigger thoughts.
The want is still there.
The same thing every Cleon wants at your age.
An escape hatch.
I can be that for you.
And all we have to do is this.
And that's it?
No grand design, no big plans?
There will come a time,
a threat,
a man called the Mule,
but that's for another conversation.
For now, we just agree to keep talking.
When will you return?
Dawn, I was never here to begin with.
The Mule.
I expected your call as soon as I heard the name.
It's time to make yourself useful, Empire.
You predicted him.
But the Radiant couldn't.
What do you know about him?
He's a space pirate, small crew.
For years now, you've been telling me about this man,
but you never told me what he was.
I could have helped.
Has he made any demands?
Um, not yet.
Call for an Enclosure.
What?
I want you to call for an Enclosure on Kalgan.
No. Kalgan isn't ours.
The Foundation will see it as an act of war--
I can handle Foundation.
We still need Council approval for any fleet actions.
There is no way they will go for it.
All you have to do is muster the Council for an emergency session.
Don't get distracted.
The Mule is on the board now.
And for this very brief moment, he is isolated.
We act or we lose.
Make your overtures.
See the Mule for yourself, learn what you can, but only meet by holo.
Don't send emissaries, don't meet in person.
Why?
You may hear rumors about him,
and that he can control people with his thoughts.
Those rumors are true.
That's not possible.
Is it?
More soon.
So, Captain, what do we do when we see this Mule character?
Nothing. You are just my ticket in.
Stay behind me and don't say a word. This is a reconnaissance mission.
I need to find out who he is and what he wants.
Warn me if you see a weapon.
Otherwise...
There's his balladeer, Magnifico Giganticus.
Rumor has it, the Mule brings him wherever he goes, even into battle.
Why isn't anybody looking at us?
It's the music.
It feels hypnotic.
The sound sort of gets into you, doesn't it, button?
Maybe that's the point.
There he is.
Now I just need to get close to him.
You're like me.
Who is Gaal Dornick?
Captain Pritcher?
What's wrong?
I shouldn't have come.
Go home.
Bravado!
Well done.
Magnifico Giganticus!
My little bald fool blows well out of both ends.
Don't you think?
Please, continue.
Should we frolic?
Captain "You're just my ticket in" is gone.
Sure is. And all of a sudden, right?
Maybe we should figure out what's going on, you know?
You know, button, this particular Mule has been roughing my flanks
ever since he stole our sunshine.
Go on.
I'd be happy to steal a little bit of his.
Captain Pritcher wanted information on the Mule.
And I see someone who just might have it.
I can talk to him, but, you know, Mr. Mule shouldn't see me doing it.
A man who conquers a planet and throws a party,
now that's a man who wants to be infamous.
If he cares about fame at all, he's gonna wanna meet me.
You can do what Pritcher couldn't. And all you need is your charm.
And liquor! Bring liquor.
Don't worry, pirates. I come in peace.
I've seen him before. He's famous.
Toran Mallow.
Maybe we can be friends? I bring wine and entertainment,
and I'm encouraged that you all smell better than I've been led to expect.
- So... - You're trying to insult us.
No. No. I have a sort of demeanor some people can find...
Demeaning.
Come on. Let's have a drink.
Insult me again.
What?
Insult me.
We have a tradition on my planet, flyting.
A game of insults. Insult me.
I don't think I wanna do that.
You promised entertainment.
You have until this song is over to insult me properly.
And if you don't, I'll stop smiling.
You're running out of time, slender reed.
You're calling me slender?
I'm not the one who looks like a dying animal.
Familiar. Expected.
See, but I have to come up with ones you're smart enough to understand.
Maybe your drunken toddler there can explain them to you.
Is she yours?
Can't be, mules are sterile, aren't they?
That's it, right?
Poor unloved Mule with a string of disappointed bedmates behind him
and a whole lot of class envy comes flying in
on a ship that sounds like a venereal disease
just desperate for someone, anyone, to notice him.
But in the end, you're just a tin-pot dictator
holding out his little tin pot,
begging for enough coins to pay someone not to laugh
at the syphilis-chewed ruin he's got between his legs.
Well done. I'm insulted.
He's rough with you, isn't he?
Oh, I'm sorry. Bad Mule.
I should have a word with him.
You can call me Bayta.
You have insulted me...
by imagining that my designs are small.
You think I want only to rule this planet?
But I want everything.
It's very simple.
I will come for the whole Empire and for Foundation.
I see something I like...
Boom!
I take it. Like that.
I see something...
I don't like...
Please.
It hurts.
But soon you'll say, "Please, please let me give you more of my skin."
And the agony will be your finest hour.
And you will die flayed and grateful.
Are you ready? Are you ready to like it?
Flash.
Bayta!
Toran!
Move! Let's go!
Go! Let's go! Did you get any information?
Oh, yes! Maggie! Come. Maggie, come along.
That's not information.
Welcome back. Shall I make drinks?
Yes, please.
What happened?
What did he do?
Where is he? I'll kill him.
I lost him! I lost him!
No, you didn't.
We're okay.
Well, how about that?
We really are quite the pair, aren't we?
We are three.
Enemy aircraft inbound.
Sleep patch!
- Go! Jump! - Jumping.
They've jumped.
And Magnifico?
Yeah.
No matter. We'll catch them or we won't.
Things have a way of working out how they're meant to.
There's a word for it.
Ordained.
That's the word, Vandagh.
Some things are just preordained.
Empire at hand.
Got a minute?
Stand easy. Dismissed.
You know, if you wanted fewer eyes on this,
I'm not sure a parade of naked soldiers was the way to do it.
Well, I'm famously eccentric.
I need your help, Commander. What is your current appetite for risk?
Well, I'm your First Claviger, so low?
Shame. We need out of the palace.
You're Empire. You can do as you please.
This is different. My brothers can't know.
Demerzel can't know.
You're leaving for good?
Yes. And I'll be joining him with my memory intact.
So what about my memory? They audit us.
I said there'd be risk. You'll have to leave the palace too.
Permanently.
We can only get as far as Stanel's old keep.
To make it to the outer ward, we need you.
Well, Empire, that's my problem. It's not just a risk for me.
I know that.
Respectfully, I'm not sure you do.
We all swear an oath, but no one really cares about the words.
They know we'll be loyal
because the one thing every claviger needs to have is a family.
You give us houses here on the palace grounds
so we remember our loved ones are hostages.
I can't do what you're asking. Not even for the middle throne.
I've considered your family. They'll leave with you.
- And for this sacrifice... - I just can't--
...I will cure your daughter's illness.
What?
My Imperial nanites. Hers if you help us.
And I'll give you enough money that you can settle on any planet in the Imperium.
Hell, for the amount I give you, you can buy a fucking planet.
Just sleep on it.
Can we trust him?
Probably not. But we need him.
And if he sells us out?
Well, he's not wrong about us holding his family hostage.
I don't think she can hear us.
There. Now it's out of earshot.
What is this?
You warned Mavon about her, and now this?
Why are you so scared of her?
I need some more spores.
No. You're already paranoid.
Come on.
She's your adviser, isn't she? She won't hurt you.
You don't understand. It wouldn't have a choice. It--
It. It. Why do you keep saying that?
I can't. Come on.
Yes, you can. You can tell me.
It's me.
If the world's going to end, why keep secrets?
Demerzel's a robot.
What?
It's true.
There are no robots. They were eradicated.
Save one.
You're lying.
Demerzel's a machine.
There are only three people in the galaxy who know it,
and we're all named Cleon.
And now you.
You satisfied?
Let's go pack.
Plan. We don't have much time.
The Mule has opened a tight-beam channel as requested.
I don't know why we're wasting our time.
He could just as easily be deposed next week
by another pirate with a better name.
He could also want more than he's already taken.
Regardless, this kind of thing is delicate.
Diplomacy should be done in person.
There are rumors that the Mule possesses mental abilities.
They're best avoided.
Bullshit. What rumors?
Look, I believe we have nothing to lose by exercising caution.
Now...
You are here for counsel.
Continuity is king. One face in front for when I become Day.
All lessons you've taught me.
Empire?
Very well... Day.
What?
It's a cold reception for a man who agreed to meet in good faith.
I am Cleon XXV.
Should I call you the Mule or address you as Kalgan's new warlord?
I've had lots of titles.
You take this, they call you that.
You take something else. Boom. You're the High-Muck of Mudworld.
I like warlord though. That's a new one.
I am here to discuss the terms of vassalship over Kalgan.
They send the understudy?
The Ship-and-Sun Armada calls me Empire.
I could make your warlord title stick. Certify it.
There would be expectations but there would also be advantages.
Empire gets suzerain status over Kalgan.
You pay taxes and allow me to deploy Kalgan's navy.
In return, you enjoy access to Empire's jump gate trade network
and Trantor's protection.
You already failed to protect Kalgan. I am the proof.
What was that?
Housecleaning. Please continue.
If you refuse these terms, it could be grounds for war.
War?
What do you know about war?
You are a boy.
While you learned to snap open your napkins,
I learned to kill.
You have lived comfortably.
War isn't comfortable.
Jump gate secured.
Any alarms?
Disabled before the breach.
Transmit all-clear signals.
Traffic as normal. No need to flaunt our prize just yet.
I'm not always like this.
Normally, I would let you enjoy it at least.
But someone...
took my balladeer from me...
and its music...
soothed me some.
And without it, I'm...
I'm even less calm, and you now see the results.
Do you ever feel like your life is not your own?
Like it's been overtaken by some holy spirit.
It's...
It's sort of a transcendent feeling
you have to kill your way out of.
On the surface, the Mule was like any other pirate.
Brutish, erratic, desperate for attention.
But underneath the violence and the chaos
there was a plan taking shape in the shadows
that would touch every part of the galaxy.
Here.
We'll leave to the east. There's light-road terminal,
same prefecture as Mycogen and we'll go to...
Are you feeling all right, darling? You've hardly touched your drugs.
Speak.
Demerzel...
You talk about her like she's a thing.
But if she's your robot, she's much more than that.
We have a complicated relationship.
I didn't tell you to scare you.
Demerzel is an obstacle. Nothing more.
I'm not sure we should leave.
What? Why?
We talked about this.
Yeah, I want to go.
I do, but...
if it's as bad out there as you say, we need to stay near Demerzel.
Not you too.
I want to do something normal. Just once.
You'll take me home with you. You'll introduce me to your family.
I don't think you'll enjoy meeting my family.
Empire?
Dawn requests your presence in the throne room.
I didn't see it standing there. Did you see it standing there?
I apologize for my intrusion.
Lead on.
Brother, you're overreacting.
He took Kalgan in a day. You saw him.
That is a man with an appetite.
He'll want more and he'll want it soon.
I want to call for an Enclosure.
We should contain him. Now, while we can.
This does not rise to the level of fleet action. It just doesn't.
The Mule is here in the middle band.
Kalgan's not far from Nicosa, our naval base in the region.
Yes. Of course. Right.
Who's the Mule?
A new warlord of Kalgan.
If he were to mount a successful attack using Kalgan's navy,
he'd have a direct path toward Trantor.
Well, he's a pirate. That means he's opportunistic, not suicidal.
And that would provoke the Foundation.
Dawn,
what's this about?
What's this fascination with Kalgan?
I'm trying to figure out why our dynasty is going to end in four months.
Brothers, if you believe this ship of state is sinking
and you want to waste your final days sticking your fingers into holes,
I'd start with your little buttholes.
At least then,
you'd have a good time.
I just wanna know why I'm here.
Because the middle throne can call for an emergency session without pushback.
Even were Day to do so, the votes will go against you.
And to even ask this will give the Council more leverage against the Dynasty.
You cannot guarantee the Mule will harm us,
but the Council will, if we give them any opportunity.
I'm sorry, Brother.
No.
The middle throne says no.
Smartest thing he's said in 20 years.
Fine.
Fine, but I still want eyes on the Mule.
Demerzel, send probes.
I want a full surveillance net in Kalgan space. Is that in my power?
Yes, Empire.
I know it's not the answer you wanted.
I'm sorry, Brother.
I forgot your robing ceremony, didn't I?
- I filled in. - Did you...
Did you do the thing? After?
What thing?
- No. We had other, more important-- - What could possibly be more important?
It is the most important.
What are you talking about?
Here, we can do it here. Do you have it on you?
Have what?
Come on. For him.
When Cleon VII became Day,
he asked the stars for strength, wisdom and fortitude.
An adviser handed him all three.
I knew you had it.
I knew he had it.
Strength.
Wisdom.
Fortitude.
Strength.
Wisdom.
Fortitude.
Now you...
Go on.
Drink up. Drink up.
Strength.
Wisdom.
- Fortitude! - Fortitude.
Oh, Gods.
What is that?
Oh, no, the Gods can't help you. That burn comes straight from hell.
Drinking up that wisdom.
Well, it's in short supply. We're gonna need some more wisdom.
I need some more fortitude.
I've got some fortitude for you.
May the light never dim.
You know your palace well.
Stanel's old walls lead straight to the waterways. They can hide your exit.
Does this mean you're a yes?
You'll both dress as clavigers.
I'll lead you through the garrison
and we'll ride jet downs to the outer ward.
And your daughter gets her cure.
You do inspire some small amount of loyalty.
I live for faint praise.
Your giraffe passed by. You just missed him.
I think it's called a giraffe.
You're wrong.
There was an ancient language on Earth that used pictures.
A small giraffe was part of the word that meant foretell,
because they see what's ahead of course.
Fascinating. What an incredibly ominous creature.
Where's Song?
She touched her arm.
That's all it was, but it was enough. Her future was foretold.
The forearm presented, touched with the fingers of the opposite hand.
Do you know its meaning?
So many lessons in semantics.
It is a blessing of a religion. Known only to a few.
Buried deep in the bones of Trantor, in the Mycogen Sector
where your Song is from.
You seem surprised. Did she not tell you?
Her faith has been illegal for thousands of years.
They call it the Inheritance.
They worship robots.
Someday, the sect believes the artificial beings will return
and remove all cruelty, injustice and misery.
That is the promise. The Inheritance.
I was not aware it still existed.
To follow it is a crime punishable by death.
- What did you do? - I've deprived the sect
of something that might have breathed new life into their flame.
I did what I should have done months ago.
Your little indulgence is over.
I erased her memories.
Everything you told her, or were to each other.
She's alive?
I sent her home to Mycogen.
Take it for the mercy it is, and perhaps be grateful.
Grateful?
I could have killed her, but I did not.
And do you know why I spared her?
For you.
I'm compelled to protect my secret. I have few choices in my life.
For you, I did this.
Get out.
Get out!