"You mean you told Raych that Demerzel was a robot and had him pass on the news to Joranum?" Dors looked utterly horrified.
"No, I couldn't do that. You know I couldn't tell Raych-or anyone-that Demerzel was a robot. I told Raych as firmly as I could that Demerzel was not a robot-and even that much was difficult. But I did ask him to tell Joranum that he was. He is under the firm impression that he lied to Joranum."
"But why, Hari? Why?"
"It's not psychohistory, I'll tell you that. Don't you join the Emperor in thinking I'm a magician. I just wanted Joranum to believe that Demerzel was a robot. He's a Mycogenian by birth, so he was filled from youth with his culture's tales of robots. Therefore, he was predisposed to believe and he was convinced that the public would believe with him."
"Well, won't they?"
"Not really. After the initial shock is over, they will realize that it's madcap fiction-or they will think so. I've persuaded Demerzel that he must give a talk on subetheric holovision to be broadcast to key portions of the Empire and to every sector on Trantor. He is to talk about everything but the robot issue. There are enough crises, we all know, to fill such a talk. People will listen and will hear nothing about robots. Then, at the end, he will be asked about the flier and he need not answer a word. He need only laugh."
"Laugh? I've never known Demerzel to laugh. He almost never smiles."
"This time, Dors, he'll laugh. It is the one thing that no one ever visualizes a robot doing. You've seen robots in holographic fantasies, haven't you? They're always pictured as literal-minded, unemotional, inhuman-That's what people are sure to expect. So Demerzel need merely laugh. And on top of that-Do you remember Sunmaster Fourteen, the religious leader of Mycogen?"
"Of course I do. Literal-minded, unemotional, inhuman. He's never laughed, either."
"And he won't this time. I've done a lot of work on this Joranum matter since I had that little set-to at the Field. I know Joranum's real name. I know where he was born, who his parents were, where he had his early training, and all of it, with documentary proof, has gone to Sunmaster Fourteen. I don't think Sunmaster likes Breakaways."
"But I thought you said you don't wish to spark off bigotry."
"I don't. If I had given the information to the holovision people, I would have, but I've given it to Sunmaster, where, after all, it belongs."
"And he'll start off the bigotry."
"Of course he won't. No one on Trantor would pay any attention to Sunmaster-whatever he might say."
"Then what's the point?"
"Well, that's what we'll see, Dors. I don't have a psychohistorical analysis of the situation. I don't even know if one is possible. I just hope that my judgment is right."
22
Eto Demerzel laughed.
It was not the first time. He sat there, with Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili in a tap-free room, and, every once in a while, at a signal from Hari, he would laugh. Sometimes he leaned back and laughed uproariously, but Seldon shook his head. "That would never sound convincing."
So Demerzel smiled and then laughed with dignity and Seldon made a face. "I'm stumped," he said. "It's no use trying to tell you funny stories. You get the point only intellectually. You will simply have to memorize the sound."
Dors said, "Use a holographic laughtrack."
"No! That would never be Demerzel. That's a bunch of idiots being paid to yak. It's not what I want. Try again, Demerzel."
Demerzel tried again until Seldon said, "All right, then, memorize that sound and reproduce it when you're asked the question. You've got to look amused. You can't make the sound of laughing, however proficient, with a grave face. Smile a little, just a little. Pull back the corner of your mouth." Slowly Demerzel's mouth widened into a grin. "Not bad. Can you make your eyes twinkle?"
"What do you mean, 'twinkle,"' said Dors indignantly. "No one makes their eyes twinkle. That's a metaphorical expression."
"No, it's not," said Seldon. "There's the hint of tears in the eye-sadness, joy, surprise, whatever-and the reflection of light from that hint of fluid is what does it."
"Well, do you seriously expect Demerzel to produce tears?"
And Demerzel said, matter-of-factly, "My eyes do produce tears for general cleansing-never in excess. Perhaps, though, if I imagine my eyes to be slightly irritated-"
"Try it," said Seldon. "It can't hurt."
And so it was that when the talk on subetheric holovision was over and the words were streaking out to millions of worlds at thousands of times the effective speed of light words that were grave, matter-of-fact, informative, and without rhetorical embellishment-and that discussed everything but robots-Demerzel declared himself ready to answer questions.
He did not have to wait long. The very first question was: "Mr. First Minister, are you a robot?"
Demerzel simply stared calmly and let the tension build. Then he smiled, his body shook slightly, and he laughed. It was not a loud uproarious laugh, but it was a rich one, the laugh of someone enjoying a moment of fantasy. It was infectious. The audience tittered and then laughed along with him.
Demerzel waited for the laughter to die down and then, eyes twinkling, said, "Must I really answer that? Is it necessary to do so?" He was still smiling as the screen darkened.
23
"I'm sure it worked," said Seldon. "Naturally we won't have a complete reversal instantly. It takes time. But things are moving in the right direction now. I noticed that when I stopped Namarti's talk at the University Field. The audience was with him until I faced him and showed spunk against odds. The audience began to change sides at once."