Foundation

Shit.

Jiam Quarver, you have suffered a cervical spinal cord injury.

In a few moments you will suffocate, unless we intervene.

We know you operate this illicit biohacking facility.

We also know you manufactured the two subcutaneous nano-lace explosives

used by the bombers who destroyed the Star Bridge.

Now, what we don't know is the identity of the people

who contracted with your lab to have this work done.

The device my associate is applying will stimulate your phrenic nerves

and allow you to breathe again.

The next words you utter will determine if that device remains functioning.

So, who purchased the bombs?

We've questioned thousands of persons of interest,

but the chain of intermediaries linking the bomb maker

to the attack's true authors has proven intractable.

How many bodies are still orbiting Trantor?

127,000, Empire.

Why haven't they been retrieved?

It hasn't been the highest priority. Rescue and recovery have...

Make it a priority.

The corpses have been catching fire as they reenter the atmosphere.

All anyone has to do is look up to be reminded of our impotence.

We need results.

We need certainty, Brother.

Am I going to regret exiling Seldon and his followers?

No evidence links them to the attack.

No evidence exonerates them.

I could destroy them still, even at a distance.

We could say they did it.

Every source of news could say it every hour on the hour

until the air is made of that and there's nothing else to breathe.

Martyring dissidents is a risky enterprise.

So is annoying your emperor.

86,981,597.

86,981,689.

86,981,717.

86,981,729.

Figured I'd find you here.

Sorry.

Didn't mean to wake you.

- You were counting primes in your sleep. - How far did I get?

Not the end, if that's what you're hoping for.

- There is no end. - Numbers or problems to count?

We don't have to colonize the whole planet, Gaal.

Just our own tiny corner.

There are no corners on a sphere.

You coming out?

No. Come in.

You know I can't swim.

You've got four years and four months to learn.

Not a chance.

Relax, relax, relax. I've got you.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Performance was unacceptable...

Blue Team's tanking.

When the time comes, fly Red or Green is my hint to you.

Maybe I'll join the reactor group next training period.

Hmm, soup was a little cold at dinner last night.

Maybe you wanna do a couple of weeks in culinary as well?

I understand your point...

You don't have to learn every job in the colony, Gaal.

Well, I do if they can't do them.

We have, what, 54 more months until we land on Terminus.

We have time. A lot of time.

Well, we do until we don't.

Sorry. I shouldn't be wasting our dwindling time like that.

When will you stop taking me so seriously?

Shivaughn, I'm picking up high levels of mercury and arsenic there.

Just be careful.

Try and seal that seam quickly. It's toxic.

I'm on it.

Hello?

Shit.

Run, Shivaughn!

Shit! Stay down.

No, Abbas!

Congratulations, you guys are zero for three.

Because you were in the primary blast radius, Gaal and Shivaughn,

both of you suffered from overpressure to your hollow organs.

I could try, but I doubt I could find a more painful way to die.

Mari, Briwan, Abbas.

Uh-huh?

You were all killed by exploded rock fragments.

The good news, it was instant.

The bad news, you're still dead.

Better than that thing tearing us apart.

Yeah, what the hell was that?

A bishop's claw. Local megafauna, endemic to the Outer Reach.

But Abbas is right. The sim's unfair.

If he hadn't fired, the bishop's claw would've probably killed us all anyway.

Yes, it is unfair.

Everything about Terminus is unfair.

But we need to defy those odds if the Foundation is to succeed.

We'll try again at 0600 tomorrow.

Ms. Dornick, Dr. Seldon wants to see you.

There's an apple orchard in the Imperial Gardens

that's older than the Robot Wars.

They used to hang AI sympathizers there.

I didn't know there were robot sympathizers.

There are always sympathizers.

Well, hopefully, by the end of this trip,

this one will be strong enough to hang somebody.

Hopefully.

You had trouble with the lava tube.

We always have trouble with the lava tube.

What's your solution?

Don't settle the Foundation near the lava tube.

We need it for energy production.

We need people to drill wells for geothermal energy.

And we won't have any if unstable veins keep igniting.

Mm-hmm.

- It's bitter. - But alive.

Have you run thrive projections using this morning's sim data?

- Yeah. - Including Blue Team's catastrophe?

34.2% mortality after five years' planetfall.

Trending downwards. Optimism abounds.

Tell that to the 1,710 people on...

That's the reason we run sims, Gaal.

- Morning, Hari. - Morning, Magnus.

"Hari."

I was "Dr. Seldon" when we began this journey.

Is that really such a bad thing?

For them to know the man behind the math?

There's a Foundation budget allocation conference later.

- I need you to sit in for me. - I've never gone...

It's just numbers, Gaal.

It's just numbers.

Yeah.

Math is never just numbers.

When words fail us, we use math to describe the inexpressible.

The things that terrify us most.

The vastness of space,

the shape of time...

the weight and worth of a human soul.

That's an old Anacreon hunting song, isn't it?

You invoke it before you kill the animal. Yes?

Anyone could sing that, Emperor.

That's not true.

We've tried to sing your songs as part of our education.

Never mastered the dialect. Not like a native.

But it sounds perfect, doesn't it?

As we have for the last two weeks,

Anacreon firmly denies any involvement in this...

I cannot find words for it.

The words are the destruction of the Star Bridge

and the deaths of 100 million citizens of Trantor.

That was Thespin, wasn't it?

Can you translate?

Louder!

It means, "Long live the Outer Reach."

I assume you can also recognize the Thespin prayer heard

right before bombs ripped the orbital platform from the stalk.

With all due respect, Empire, that prayer...

Hasn't been sung in 88 years.

No Thespin would sing...

My government continues to deny...

Shroud them.

What's on the recording is authentic. They don't have answers.

Someone does.

These worlds hate each other.

- More than they hate the Empire? - Historically, yes.

The idea they'd collaborate on such a thing...

And yet...

someone's going to hang for this.

I'd like it to be the guilty one.

Where is Brother Dusk?

Ooh.

Ugh.

Okay. Thanks, Gaal.

Zygote looks good.

Any change in your birth directive?

No.

People talk to me.

- I'm sure. - Well, not just here, but out there.

'Cause not everyone wants to wait for planetfall.

That's not surprising.

If I knew someone...

She's still early-term.

She could still follow protocol, but she won't come in.

Do I need to tell Dr. Seldon? Or is it enough just to tell you?

Everything check out okay?

Everything's fine.

Find you later?

Okay.

Attention. Quadrant five is now clear.

Quadrant five, all clear.

Tell Dr. Seldon we're running an extra reactor sim tonight.

Hopefully we won't radiate all three shuttles this time.

I'm not here about that.

Does the father know?

We barely know each other.

He seems sweet, but I don't care much what he thinks.

Do you care what anyone thinks?

Enough to talk to Shivaughn at the seed bank.

Look where that got me.

I'm not talking to you as the Foundation.

I'm talking to you as Gaal.

Lowre, you're an engineer.

You tested onto the shuttle team.

You know how much safer an embryo is in the seed bank.