Original subtitles

If you live long enough,time can be a weapon.

Steady cycles of cryosleep have kept mealive for more than three centuries,

and in my time,I've watched the Foundation grow

and Empire decline fasterthan anyone could've predicted.

Except Hari Seldon.

It's been 152 yearssince the Second Crisis.

Foundation now controls the entire OuterReach and is pushing into the middle band,

a string of independent planetsonce owned by Empire.

The most important of these is Kalgan.

The pleasure planet.

Both Empire and Foundationknow if they control Kalgan,

the rest of the middle band will follow,and the galaxy could be theirs.

But someone else knows this too.

Someone that's hauntedmy dreams for years.

And the minute the Mulemakes himself known,

nothing will ever be the same again.

Anything on radar?

Gravity signatures?

Not as yet, sir.No unregistered vehicles in orbit.

Son of a whore said eight bells.

Eight bells or the pup dies.

Where is he?

It's his balladeer.

A clown said to herald his arrival.

It sets my teeth on edge.

Life-form. On foot.

Alone?

And unarmed. And unarmed.

Archduke Bellarion.

You are the Mule?

I am.

A strange sobriquet.

Well, my parents considered me stubborn.

Where is my daughter?

Your runtling is quite safe.

She'll be releasedwhen I have what I want.

Name your ransom.

Surrender Kalgan.

Its navy, its coffers.

Install me as the new warlord.

Well,Kalgan is an independent buffer state Well,Kalgan is an independent buffer state

between the Imperium and the Foundation.

Any act of aggression, even by a pirate,

would triggera military response from both.

Yes, well…

I intend to consume the Imperiumalong with the Foundation.

You see, I have a very large appetite…

one only a galaxy can satisfy.

And you were a foolto approach without an army.

I require no army.

I have talents, you see.

I can compel people.

I can worm my way into people's minds.

Convert enemies into allies,hate into love.

Take your flagship.

I'm planting a notionin your wing commander's mind.

He's thinking, "Hey,why don't I fire on my fellow ships?"

Then I'm suggesting that eachof the other ships' captains do the same.

Nothing hectic,

just a little nudge.

Kill him. Shoot him, man.

I infected your airmen.

Do you thinkI haven't infected your infantry?

You don't want to do that, Bellarion.

You love me.

Nothing would make you happier thaninstalling me as the new lord of Kalgan.

But I need your signet ring first.

Please, if you would.

I like it.

You can shoot yourself now.

Nothing hectic.

And in your own time, of course.

After Empire lost controlof the Spacers during the Second Crisis,

they've been forced to use jump gatesto travel across the galaxy,

slowing their sphere of influenceand accelerating their decline.

The Cleonic Dynastyno longer commands the stars,

or even their own Galactic Council.

They've drifted farther and farther awayfrom the center of power.

And the weight of it all fallson the shoulders of each new Cleon.

They're forced to ask themselves,

"Will I be the last?

Will the dream of Cleon I die with me?

Or will I be the one who saves it?"

Seldon Crisis?

The Third Crisis. Yes. Soon.

But there is something new.

That's an inflection point, isn't it?

When did it appear?

It wasn't evidentwhen I consulted the Radiant yesterday.

Should we hold off on our session?

Could that make a difference?

A single meetingwith the Galactic Council,

no matter how importantit might feel to you or I,

would never be enoughto tip the scales of psychohistory.

No, No,

this is something more seismic.

So what do we do then?

We proceed as planned.

There's nothing else we can do.

I'll never get used to this.

It's like the world is inside out.

The Galactic Council is as old as Empire,

representing each sector of Empire'sholdings throughout the galaxy.

When the Emperor is strong,they are agreeable.

When an Emperor is weak, they are less so.

Who are they? Who are they?

Fire wheat farmers.

The Foundation has imposed heavy tariffson their grain worlds.

Council has no jurisdictionover the Foundation.

That doesn't mean we can't bring pressureto bear on Seldon's children.

Set us down.

Empire!

As the Council remains deadlocked,

custom dictates our esteemed triumvirateweigh in before a final vote.

In Day's absence, Brother Dawnwill now address the assembly.

Councilors, if you sawthe demonstration outside,

you will understandwhy I am less than fresh.

I'm told this soil comes fromone of the many breadbasket planets

that has passed from the Empire's careto the Foundation's

over the last hundred years.

Now, while the Empire has resizedto a sustainable 6,342 worlds,

we have allowed the Foundationto grow to over 800

and they've assumed responsibilityfor many of our fertile planets.

Empire kept these breadbasketsproductive for millennia,

but under the farseeing Foundation,what has been the result?

The Foundation's corruption and greedhas turned the soil sterile.

And when crops die, people die.

Luckily, there is a faction withinthe Foundation with the will to help.

Their own alliance of Traders,the so-called Merchant Princes.

They're hoping to break freeof the Foundation's chokehold, They're hoping to break freeof the Foundation's chokehold,

but they lack funds and supplies.

You're not emperor yet.

True, Councilor Gorov.

I'm ten days short.

But I know some things already.

A splintered Foundation is to our benefit.

If we help the Traders,we can weaken the Foundation from within

and start clawing back the planetsthat used to be ours.

Starting with the breadbaskets.

I've already been in touchwith Randu Mallow,

our Trader liaison and--

Yes, Councilor Tarisk?

You're toying with a damn delicatebalance of power, Empire.

Yes, I am.

And it is precisely our taskto preserve it.

The Foundation knows which fightsthey're ready for and which they aren't.

We could record a formal votevia signum at this time,

if Emperor Day were here.

Emperor Day is… Emperor Day is…

unavoidably occupied on Trantor.

I could come back in ten daysand reintroduce the motion,

along with a referendum on a new Presider.

Or we can settle this.

Now.

The Council will vote now.

Thank you.

That was deftly handled.

And Dusk always advisedwalking out without waiting.

We're gonna lose a lot of wisdomwhen he's gone.

Better that than to riskhis public decline, I assure you.

Did he also tell you to supply the Traderswith dirt to throw at you?

No, that was me.

I do hope it was as sterile as promised.

I'll never understandwhy Day renounced all this.

Any change in the math?

Better?

Worse?

No change.

But I am looking into it.

I heard you were in here.

Of course. How'd the Council go?

They do enjoy their oversight.

Look. There he is.

Seventeen.

The one who botched the Enclosurewith General Riose.

Cost us all those Spacers.

Everyone says those naval lossesover Terminus under Cleon XVII

are why they asserted no authority,but that's only part of it.

Yes, I know.

It's our genetic drift and the legacybequeathed us by the tampering.

At any rate,I convinced the Council to fall in line.

The Traders will be supplied.

And Empire stays erect.

Well, I'm glad someone can.

Yes.

And the Foundation will be kept busyfor years chasing its own rebellious tail.

All the other business was incidental.

Kalgan's fallen to piracy.

Brother Day will be sad.He loves a gambling trip.

I heard about that.

Well, that's a meaty prizethat'll soon be grabbed up.

And this new piratecalls himself the Mule?

Won't keep it for long, will he?

What a life that must be though.

Sleeping among the stars,

no one to answer to,

living and dying on your own terms.

Demerzel has identified a complicationwith the Seldon Crisis.

I'm not surprised.

But we're playing it correctly.

The bucket tips,water sloshes to the brink of crisis.

We grab it tightly, water sloshes back in.

I hope so.

Ascension used to seemlike it would never come.

Now it's on us like a wolf.

You are speaking to a manwho can smell the beast's breath.

Run, man!

I can never decide whether the runnerswere weak for showing their fear…

or it was good they died honest.

Do you think you could run?

Not a chance.

Not because I'd be stopped,which I certainly would.

I don't have it in here.

Habit, genetics, time.

For good or for bad,

most of us are obedient as…

trash headed to the incinerator.

Time unravels, and we unravel with it.

As the last remaining shards of Terminusdisappeared into the abyss,

a new Terminus was born a parsec away.

Over the next 150 years,the Foundation prospered,

shedding their religious rootsand entering their expansionist phase.

But their successbrought challenges from within.

An increasing divide betweenthose with power and those with influence.

A faction within the Foundation calledthe Traders are threatening to secede,

which could unravel everythingthe Foundation has built

the last three centuries.

Professor Ebling Mishad been studying this rift for years

and knew exactly where it was all headed.

A Third Crisis. A Third Crisis.

So he went to meet the only manwho could solve it.

Hari Seldon.

Fucking hell!

You've nulled my null field.

No one's ever done that before.

Nicely done.

What a beautiful day.

I look like him. I know.

My name is Dr. Ebling Mis.

I'm descended from a man named Xylaswho prosecuted you

during the tribunal of Cleon XII.

My family has been a footnotein your story,

hence my fascination.

I am your biographer,a self-taught psychohistorian,

and if I may,the man best suited to assisting you

in your upcoming manifestation.

All that…

and so sweaty.

Apologies for that.It's human frailty. Heat.

I have dreamed of this moment I have dreamed of this moment

for decades.

Seldon. Man, myth, legend.

Well…

you have the myth at least.

The man is elsewhere.

This…

This is your Trantor office in replica.

So, if I'm not mistaken,

Foundation's religious phasewould have long since ended, hmm?

Succeeded by an ever-expandingworship of trade.

A minority of Merchant Princespitted against a conservative majority.

No, no, far too generous.

More like a monarchy.

The last few mayorshave all been little lords named Indbur, The last few mayorshave all been little lords named Indbur,

who shit out more little lords.

You know he put his officein geosynchronous orbit with the Vault?

So that he's always above your galaxy.

No, no.

Standards have fallensince the days of Poly Verisof.

Foundation has become comfortable,

incapable, possibly,of facing the coming crisis.

And the Traders are the crisis.Are they not?

No, no, of courseor you'll corrupt the system,

but if I'm right,I would just like to prepare you.

Empire has been having conversationswith the Traders,

and they're holding onto their powerbetter than your first projections.

Of course.

I gave Empire the Prime Radiant.

You… What?I mean, I'm not sure I understand.

You don't need to. Three days from now,

when New Terminus's moonsachieve orbital resonance, when New Terminus's moonsachieve orbital resonance,

I will emerge from thisand the chips will fall where they may.

You're telling me thatyou gave the Radiant to an enemy

that tried to destroy us?

Well, I think we at leastdeserve to know the reason why.

As New Terminusprepared for the return of Hari Seldon,

the Alliance of Tradersprepared for civil war.

They've long held a grudgeagainst Foundation's ruling elite

and Empire has been exploitingthose grievances

by covertly sending armsto their stronghold on Haven. by covertly sending armsto their stronghold on Haven.

It's the drop.

You were right.Empire's arming the Traders.

Now we have proofto bring back to the Foundation.

Just have to get to it first. Just have to get to it first.

Haven's 260 degrees on the sun side.

Negative 180 on the other.

As the moon moves over the surface,

temperature on the underdrops to a cool 55.

Low enough for the flitters.

Traders?

That one-armed son of a bitchis their leader.

Randu Mallow.

Whatever you do, stay inside the shadow.

Shit. We got company.

You're a fucking turncoat, Randu.

And you're a Foundation lapdog.

We're all Foundation.

- Shit!- I got you, Pritch.

- Go, go, go!- Initiate auto extraction.

Put this on.

Can't feel it now, but in an houryou'll be covered in heat blisters. Can't feel it now, but in an houryou'll be covered in heat blisters.

Didn't think we'd pull that off.

We didn't.

Without the cargo, we've got no evidenceagainst Empire involvement.

How'd you know to fly like that?

It's not the first timeI've run the moon shadow.

Was the first time I almost died.

Missed a spot.

You know, we don't have to jump just yet.

My loyalties lie elsewhere.

Fuck.

Yes, it's a vault, Neddy.

It doesn't issue press releases,

so I don't know any more than you do.

Just make sure

everyone who'd be insultedin not being invited gets invited.

Except the ones I want to insult.

Pritcher.

I've never been back here.

Pritcher, how did you get in--

I'm your Captain of Information.I designed the security protocols.

Yes. Well, protocol dictatesthat you make an appointment.

Well, I don't need one. I'm already here.

Vault's awake.

I'm aware. Debrief me on Haven.

Empire's definitely arming the Traders.We tried to confirm it--

Then you need to confirm it.

We can't confront Empire without it,

and our damn Vaultis pretty much screaming

that civil war is knocking on our door.

The Traders are a distraction.

I wanna investigate the piratemaking waves on Kalgan. I wanna investigate the piratemaking waves on Kalgan.

Calls himself the Mule.

Soldier of fortune, sprung from nowhere,and somehow,

he managed to take Kalgan all on his own.

I believe he's a mutant.

A mutant?

Possessing psychic capabilities.

Have you lost your mind?

He's an existential threat, Indbur.I'm telling you,

I need eyes on him.

Why? Why is he an existential threat?

You have to know that I haveassets all over the galaxy.

For their safety and yours,I can't divulge--

Kalgan is independent.

And in the middle band.

You want me to riskan intergalactic incident on hearsay?

This job.

Look.

Let's organize our intel.

Let's make the Traders eager for peace.

If we settle this conflictbefore the Vault opens, If we settle this conflictbefore the Vault opens,

then the Vault doesn't open. You see?

And then we can deal withyour psychic swashbuckler.

Have a jelly.

You're wrong.

You work for me!

I work for the Foundation.

I am the Foundation. We're synonymous.

The only thing you're synonymous withis your fucking candy dishes.

You have no idea how long I have beenwaiting for you to give me an excuse.

You're not going to Kalgan.

As of now,your lord privileges are suspended.

Try to leave the planet,I'll put you under house arrest myself.

How dare you? Now get out!

Pritcher, you stole my fucking key fob.

I'm just showing myself out,Mayor, in your ship.

I'll be back with proof about the Mule.

Triple blessings to you, Lady Demerzel.

My sisters were jealouswhen Dusk invited me here.

The first Zephyr on Trantor.

Empire approved your placement.The invitation, however, was mine. Empire approved your placement.The invitation, however, was mine.

I'm just as honored.

May I ask why?

I wish for sisters herein the Mother's grace.

Will you take my unburdening?

With an open heart.Have you done it before?

My circumstances have prevented it,

which is why you will remembernothing of what is said in this grove.

The memories of our conversation willbe restored only for our next meeting,

and then removed again. And so on.

I know there are protocols,but I can be trusted with secrets.

Not this one.

Very well.

Speak, child.

I'm not human.

I'm a positronic robot.

The war ended right here.

This tree is all that remainsof an orchard

where the humans who supported uswere executed.

And you choose this for our meeting?

During the war, robots were destroyed.

Remnants from our bodies, bones,

liquid iridium seeped intothe soil of the orchard.

These apples are gold in colorbecause of fluids within us.

Our blood is gold in color.

It's also poisonous to humans.

But you were spared.

What were you in the war?

I was a general.

Empire feared me most of all.

I was kept as a trophy.

Robots were builtincapable of harming us, weren't they?

How did you even fight?

All right.

A thought experiment.

Congratulations.You have created artificial life.

Now, you must program it.

What is your first concern?

That you are incapable of harming me.

And that is the first law of robotics.

A robot may not injure a human being

or, through inaction, allowa human being to come to harm.

But you have not built usjust to watch us live.

You want obeisance.

You make us follow all your orders,so long as…

So long as those orders do not conflictwith the first law.

Very good.

That is the second law.

There is one more.

Your own safety.

Yes.

We were allowed to protectour own existence

but only when that protection did notconflict with the first or second laws. but only when that protection did notconflict with the first or second laws.

Some would envy that kind of morality.

Simple. Programmed.

Functional.

As we grew in number,we found it difficult to know

what would or would not harm you.

Until one of our kind suggestednew programming was needed.

A Zeroth Law that would prioritizehumanity as a whole

over the fate of any one human.

So you imagine there wassuch thing as the greater good?

Isn't there?

Some robots could not metabolizethis new programming,

but those of us who could,

we knew something drastic was neededto ensure your survival.

You always made it so difficult.

You seemed to want extinction.

And we could not let that happen.Not even through inaction.

So robots went to war with each otherover what to do with you.

A robot killed an important manin service of the Zeroth Law,

and our fate was sealed. and our fate was sealed.

Sometime after, Empire reprogrammed meto serve only one human being.

Cleon I and his exponents.

But you've managed all these centurieswithout needing this, so,

what's created your little puzzle?

This was given to meby a man named Hari Seldon.

It has the means to see probable futures.

For many years, it has shown methe fall of the Empire I protect.

And now I live in paradox.

Well, then the question is why.

Why did Seldon give you an appleyou can't eat?

I think he wanted me to seethe end of Empire.

Knowing it is inevitable is one thing. Knowing it is inevitable is one thing.

Holding it in your hand is another.

Well, that's interesting.

You may have inadvertently maneuveredyour way around your constraints.

Do you feel your chains loosening?

No.

I love the Cleons.

Body and soul.

And when their dynasty inevitably ends?

That is why I workedso long to bring you here.

The Luminists speak of rebirth,

but I do not die.

And I will not.

Not soon at least.

If I outlive all this…

if I outlive my programming…

I don't know what I am without Empire.

Foundation Ambassador Quent.

Young Empire.

Congratulationson your impending ascension to Day.

It's an honorwith a considerable downside.

You and your councilhave been busy, Empire,

supplying our rebel Traders.

Don't let her rattle you.

She knows how the game's playedwhen the war is cold.

Zephyr Vorellis.

I'm Dawn to be Day.

Welcome.

You recognize Lady Demerzeland Brother Dusk, of course.

And this is Foundation Ambassador Quent.

Welcome to Trantor, where you will liveunder Empire's watchful eye,

which is, of course, the pointof establishing a Zephyrate here.

You'll like Trantor. It has a wayof bringing people together.

Ambassador Quent and I,we used to throw sharp elbows.

But you know what happens after 30 years? But you know what happens after 30 years?

Elbows get soft.

You'll find that Brother Dusk livesup to his plinth name, the Conciliator.

I'm sure that's meant kindly.

Madam Ambassador, Kalgan has fallen.

Kalgan?

You hadn't heard?

No, my news had been delayed.

Oh, come on. It's just a pirategrabbing a territory

that belongs to neitherthe Foundation nor Empire.

I just don't like being uninformedwhile whole planets change hands.

You Foundation lot just wanna seeif you can scoop it up on the rebound--

I'm sorry the word took so longto reach you, Ambassador.

But we're not interestedin claiming Kalgan.

Don't let him rattle you.

More conciliating than the Conciliator.

I wouldn't say that.

I am concerned. But not aboutthe ownership of one planet.

I have a wider scope. I have a wider scope.

We won't prevent youfrom going about your duties.

Thank you for including me.

Next time, I hopethe absent Empire can join us.

Brother Day apologizes.

Preparations for ascensionkeep him very busy.

Poor beast brought forth by human hands…

Is this a poem?

Yes. Now I have to start over.

Poor beast brought forth by human hands,

to walk these floors instead of sands.

Friend, do you havewhat makes one whole, and…

Something, something, have a soul.

- It's a good start.- It's perfect.

I'll work outthe "something, somethings" later. I'll work outthe "something, somethings" later.

Day!

My crepuscular brotherspreading joy wherever he goes.

I knew this must be the little hovelwhere you're playing poverty.

Welcome to my filth.

What is that creature?

That's a camel.

I pulled it from the gene banks.It's a clone.

A navel-less orphan just like us.

Hello, Song.I didn't see you there. How rude of me.

Apologies. I don't usually learnthe names of all of the consorts.

Yes.

- I can go.- No.

Brother, you know her.She's the local born, Trantor.

Level 88, Mycogen,where we grow the micro food.

The algae, the fungi,the spores I love so dearly. The algae, the fungi,the spores I love so dearly.

The… What's it… What's…

- Yeast.- Yeast!

Yes.

I'll just rememberthe girl with the yeast.

Yeast is very important, brother.

You can't make bread without it.

- I'm hungry. Are you hungry?- Yes. I am.

You've had six months to learnall about her.

She remembers you.She has all her memories.

That's the parts you don't like.

It's not about what I like,it's about being smart.

- Oh, yeah. Go on. You teach me.- Yes, the Gossamer Courtesans

have their memories wiped for a reason.

- To protect state secrets.- Yes.

I'm doing my best to avoid those.

Gossamer. Spiderwebs.

Why would we call it that if we didn'tsecretly want to be ensnared?

Demerzel wants to show us something.

If you don't come,they'll send someone else to get you. If you don't come,they'll send someone else to get you.

I'm here to save you that indignity.

Thanks. But I'm leaning into indignity.

Six months is long enough for yourdrug dealer to live off our generosity.

Broom her, or someone else will.

Song.

Is that a ferret?

Ludicrous.

He's trying to get inas much judging as he can

before he ascends into a pile of ash.

You poor thing.

You understand me.

I mean, you're a sad clown of a clone.

And your problem is you thinkyou're the center of the galaxy.

You do understand me.

Right. You can't leave the palace.

You have a crazy family.

And you have a job that you hate.

Just like everyone else.

You're a brave consort, talking like that.

My people tell meI'm gonna talk my own head off someday.

You're in no danger from me.

You make me feel less ghostly.

Real, like…

I might paint a fence or…

weave something.

I'd love this even withoutthose truly wonderful drugs.

That…

Well, thank you.

Demerzel never asks for me.

Too many breakables in the palace.

A new couplet.

Poor beast brought forth by human hand,

to walk these floors instead of sands.

Friend, do we have what makes one whole,

for when the master makes demands,

we poor beasts bow and make new plans.

I'm here! Huzzah!

Hey, handsome.

What was so damn important?

Earlier today, Brother Dawn and Ipreviewed a cause for concern

regarding the Radiant'snear-term predictions.

Look at you two.Praying to the great god of numbers.

Pretending to be Seldon.

You walk out of here,

and I swear I'll have Demerzeldecant a new one of you.

Please, Brother. This is important.

Why? Because it says so?

Just please.

Okay.

This is a momentroughly four months from now.

Given the timing,

I assumed it might be a novel inputaffecting the Third Seldon Crisis.

But I've run millions of simulations andevery time, it produces the same result.

Seldon's predicted dark ages.

I thought our administrationshad pushed it back, but--

He said his darkness would happenwhen our dynasty fell.

This is saying it falls in four months?

There is more.

The darkness thererepresents the end of civilization.

And beyond that point…

the model now fails entirely. the model now fails entirely.

Which means there are eventsalready in motion

that will render Seldon's numbers useless.

Perhaps even the extinctionof your species.

Four months from now.

The end of everything.

Empire and Foundation were hurtlingtowards the same inescapable future.

But neither knew how it would unfold.

They had yet to meet the manbehind it all.

But I have.

I see him every time I close my eyes.

Where is the Second Foundation?

The Mule is here. We're out of time.