Now, the students pulled apart the gray muscle fibers and removed the reptile’s internal organs. Though dead, the swamp creature twitched reflexively, and its long jaws clamped down. One of the students jerked out of the way, barely in time to keep her hand from being bitten off. Even so, the curved tooth left a deep red scratch on her arm.
Erasmus focused in on the scratch. He knew that the marsh reptiles carried deadly bacteria in their saliva. A scratch from this tooth could become infected, grow gangrenous, and the student might die, feverish and babbling, in excruciating pain. Erasmus hoped the school’s medical team wouldn’t treat the scratch. It would be very interesting to study the effects of delirium on an enhanced Mentat mind.…
He switched to another set of spy-eyes to watch a room full of new trainees poring over pages and pages of random numbers, which they were then asked to reproduce from memory. The exercise helped them organize their brains, to replicate the skills of a machine (except a thinking machine never needed to practice). Many inductees failed at this stage and were released from the school, but others did manage to learn. Erasmus admired them for their persistence and determination, because humans had such great disadvantages with their soft and chaotic brains.
Erasmus took all of his basic thinking skills for granted. Long ago, he had been identical to so many other robots, programmed by Omnius to serve the Synchronized Empire. The computer evermind had been duplicated across hundreds of worlds, each separated memory core maintaining parity via update ships such as one flown by Vorian Atreides.
Erasmus had gained uniqueness only through a fortunate accident. After falling into a glacier crevasse on Corrin, he’d been trapped for over a century, during which time he had no+ri s womanthing to do but ponder his existence and develop his advanced personality. By the time Erasmus was rescued, he was different from any other independent robot … and that was the point at which he’d begun to do great things. His suffering had been necessary to transform him into such a superior thinking machine, one with a very creative mind.
In a sense, his current situation was similar—trapped and helpless, disembodied. But Gilbertus could save him at any time.
Now that the two of them had been hiding for so long among feral humans, Erasmus worried that his ward had become corrupted, even sympathetic to the rest of his race. It was time for them both to leave Lampadas, to change their parameters, to create a new identity for Gilbertus. The Butlerian delusions were interesting, but dangerous—and growing more so.
Gilbertus had already installed stronger defenses around the Mentat School, on the pretext of protecting the Emperor’s sister. High walls now surrounded the school complex, and the approach through the labyrinth of marshes was difficult. The gates were barred, the landing field small and secure. The lakeshore was protected with electronic and physical defenses as well, augmented by dangerous predators in the water.
But it was not enough, as far as Erasmus was concerned.
Using tiny robotic drones to complete the work, the robot core had laid down advanced conduit paths and installed hidden high-intensity power-dispersal units, a grid that could project a microwave pulse to incapacitate human enemies. He still did not let down his guard.
Erasmus’s attention continued to roam throughout the school. The time ticked away as he studied activities that had once been so fascinating, but now were boring. In an instruction chamber, seven Mentat students stared at a wall that projected blips of light in predetermined grid squares, following a complex pattern that the trainees were asked to decipher. The lights twinkled like a random display of static, and the trainees tried to predict the sequence. Most of them failed. Only one—the intriguing Anna Corrino—identified the correct sequence every time. He watched her lips move as she muttered the answers.
For a thinking machine, time was infinitely flexible, every second broken into countless pieces, but Erasmus chose to speed up the time now, slowing down his thought processes so that the lonely day passed in a blink. When he let himself become aware again, it was night outside—and Anna had returned to her quarters. Now, things would get interesting.
His external sensor pickups detected a cacophony of swamp noises, buzzing and clicking, mating calls, the screams of dispatched prey, the rustling of large animals through the underbrush, a splash of razorjaws swimming through the thick sangrove swamp.
He channeled his attention into Anna’s quarters. She was eager to go to bed every night now, because whenever she lay next to the tiny speakers implanted in the walls, she listened for his soothing voice, and answered him.
“Tell me again about your lover, Hirondo Nef,” Erasmus said.
The young woman grew alternately emotional and detached as she talked about the palace chef who had made her swoon but who—in Erasmus’s assessment—had been a mere diversion and certainly not worthy of a majestic and valuable female specimen such as Anna.
“Salvador destroyed our love,” she said with a hitch in her voice, glad to have a sympathetic listener. “He sent Hirondo away, drove us apart.”
“I’m sure he had your best interest at heart,” Erasmus escape plan,” the robot said. s woman suggested.
“No, my brother was thinking only of protecting his throne. He murdered Hirondo. I know it!”
Indeed, Erasmus hoped so. He wished he could witness her reaction if she discovered proof that it had really happened. It would be interesting to see the emotions on her face, and hear her screams of despair. “Tell me more about your brother,” he said.
Anna blinked in the dimness. “Which one? Roderick, or Salvador?”
“Both. We have plenty of time.”
She began to list a curiously organized set of facts: the birth dates of Roderick and Salvador, their heights, the names of their wives, the names and birth dates of Rodeere conflicted
The past is always with us, in one form or another. Those with the proper perception can see it.
—maxim of the Sisterhood
The traitor Dorotea and her orthodox Sisters had split from Raquella’s teachings because they refused to accept any form of advanced technology, regardless of the need. It was he+th Mentatoperationr blind spot, Valya knew. While pretending to be Dorotea’s friend, Valya had noted a disturbing edge of unreason in the other woman’s eyes and comments. During a years-long assignment on Lampadas to observe the Butlerian movement, Dorotea had been poisoned by their beliefs.
It was no wonder Dorotea had let her emotions get the best of her, turning like a viper against the Sisterhood.
Unlike the orthodox Sisters, Valya did not despise advanced technology: It was a tool to be used for her own purposes and for the success of the Sisterhood’s goals. Given the vast complexity of the breeding-record computers and their capacity for predictive analysis, she grasped the necessity for those tamed thinking machines. Besides, those exhaustive databases had allowed her to track down Atreides bloodlines. Technology was a means to an end, and Valya would use any weapon available to achieve her goals, which were far more important than any esoteric moral challenge.
While Butlerians stormed across the Imperium and destroyed anything that resembled a thinking machine, Venport Holdings promoted technology for the benefit of the human race. Now Cioba Venport arranged to transport Valya’s team to Rossak in secret so they could retrieve the buried computers. A loyal Sister, Cioba knew not to ask questions.
As their camouflaged shuttle dropped out of a huge VenHold spacefolder, guided down by a skilled Sisterhood pilot, Valya sat among fifteen women who had demonstrated combat proficiency in test exercises on Wallach IX, specially cleared Sisters from Raquella’s most trusted inner circle. Some of the commando Sisters were armed, and all of them were weapons in their own right. There was a chance they might have to face Imperial soldiers the Emperor had left behind to watch over the abandoned cliff city. If that happened, Valya was confident her Sisters could still prevail, but it would be better if they managed to slip in and out of the jungles without being noticed
. She preferred not to have to explain bodies.…
Sister Olivia, one of the recently graduated Sister Mentats, selected a seat next to Valya as the shuttle descended through the atmosphere. “I spent a year on Rossak before going to Lampadas for Mentat training. It will be sad to see our great cliff city abandoned.”
Olivia was young and wide at the hips, with long blond hair and an assertive personality that Valya found grating at times, perhaps because it reminded her of herself. Olivia had formed a solid friendship with Fielle in their time together at the Mentat School, and Valya gauged the influence of all the new Sister Mentats. Fielle in particular was a shining star who already held much of the Mother Superior’s attention. Valya was keeping a close eye on her, assessing whether she would be a powerful ally or rival.
“Stay near me at all times,” she warned Olivia. “The shuttle will land far from any Imperial military defenses, and we’ll make our way through the thickest wilderness. It’s a testing ground, and there are many hazards for the unwary.”
The Sister Mentat gave her an indulgent smile, but quiet anger simmered beneath her controlled expression. “I’m not unwary, nor a fool. And the Lampadas swamps have ferocious predators as dangerous as any Rossak can offer.”
Valya realized that she herself should attempt more finesse. Even before becoming a Reverend Mother, she had observed many subtle connections in the political and personal web of Sisters—factions, alliances, rivalries, resentments, all under the guise of formalized teaching and philosophical debate. But that had changed when the Sisterhood itself split apart. Now, Valya vowed, she would help the true Sisterhood +sch womanon Wallach IX to be strong, unified, focused.
And since the Mother Superior would have to name her successor soon, Valya needed to make certain the old woman made the correct decision. Valya felt envious when Raquella was with Fielle or when she showed interest in other Sisters—but voices in Valya’s mind, wise voices from Other Memory, counseled her to rise above such pettiness, for the sake of the Sisterhood and its mission to improve mankind. Valya had heeded such advice, but turned a deaf ear when the same voices suggested that she abandon her ambitious goals for House Harkonnen, so she could focus entirely on the Sisterhood.
Valya herself was absurdly young, in physical years, to be considered for such a monumental role. But for a Reverend Mother, with countless generations of experiences inside her, physical age was irrelevant. Her drive and determination, though, were her own.
If she became the Mother Superior, she would need to lead all of the Sisters, from the freshest acolyte like Tula to the wisest Reverend Mother. She couldn’t let Raquella see her act petulantly or childishly. She had to forge alliances, not break them. Their true enemies were the orthodox Sisters on Salusa and the betrayer Dorotea.
Now, she suppressed her feelings of antipathy toward Fielle and considered the good in the other young woman. Fielle was talented, but so new and untested that she could not possibly be Raquella’s replacement. For Valya to keep herself paramount in Raquella’s mind, and to demonstrate that she was rising above pettiness, the best solution was to turn Fielle into an ally, perhaps through her friend Olivia.
After a moment of assessment and consideration, Valya smiled warmly and said to Olivia, “You are part of my team for a good reason. In addition to the jungle hazards, we have to watch for any Imperial troops Salvador left behind. As a Sister Mentat, you might be able to see dangers that even I don’t detect. We have to make this a swift and smooth mission.”
Olivia seemed relieved. All the tense muscles in her face relaxed. “Our work here is vital for the Sisterhood. Each of us is an important member of the team.”
As the shuttle continued its descent, Valya looked through the windowport at the night-darkened planet below. She spotted a few city lights spangled in the murky wilderness. Although the Sisterhood School had been uprooted and the primary cliff city abandoned, many people still lived on Rossak: entrepreneurs, harvesters, scouts, even exiles.
According to an intelligence report that Cioba Venport had obtained from her own VenHold operatives, Emperor Salvador had stationed a small contingent of troops near the former Sisterhood settlement. Although the soldiers had poor service records and substandard equipment, Valya was sure the guards were here at Dorotea’s suggestion to make certain the exiled Sisters didn’t try to return to the cliff city. Dorotea wanted to keep her faction of pandering Sisters important to the Emperor—and keep Raquella irrelevant.
I should have killed Dorotea while she lay writhing from the poison, Valya thought. But no one had expected her to live through the Agony. No previous Sister candidate had survived intact, with the exception of Raquella herself.
Since the Imperial contingent had only rudimentary surveillance equipment, the camouflaged VenHold craft easily slipped past their scans and set down in a jungle clearing several kilometers from their destination. She listened to the low conversations of her team members, heard the excitement and anticipation in their voices. Simply returning to the order’ thinking machinescre the s original home planet felt like a kind of victory for them.
Stepping outside into the heady jungle wearing a night-vision headset, Valya listened to the rustle of animals gliding through the underbrush. She didn’t worry. Many times, she had traveled the depths of the jungle when she assisted Karee Marques in search of natural toxins or drugs.
Through the illumination enhancers she magnified the view and saw the majestic cliff city in the distance, its pockmarked stone face riddled with tunnels and now-empty living quarters. At one time this had been the Sisterhood’s vibrant hub; now it was nothing but faded memories. She could no longer discern the trails or crepelike balconies that had graced the sheer stone wall.
In those days, the breeding computers had been concealed up there in a cavern deep inside the cliff. Egged on by the insistent Dorotea, the paranoid Emperor’s search team had ransacked the tunnels, but Valya had already whisked the dangerous technology away. Undeterred by the lack of proof, the Emperor had slaughtered the Sister Mentats and the remaining Sorceresses, who were merely trying to protect their school. Even though Salvador Corrino had given the order, Valya still placed the blame on Dorotea.
As her team members emerged from the shuttle and gathered their equipment, she inhaled the moist, odor-rich jungle air. While gazing at the haunted-looking cliff city, she remembered the women she’d known there. In the back of her mind, Valya heard what sounded like a murmur of human voices, as if the honeycombed cliffside were saturated with the spirits of dead Sisters. She felt a sudden chill as the voices called out plaintively, moaning for what was lost and would never be again.
Valya had enough ghosts in her own past, and too much blood on her hands. And she wasn’t finished yet. Even with all the struggles of the downtrodden Sisterhood, she thought angrily of her slain brother, Griffin, and the generations of disgrace that House Harkonnen had suffered. The blood Valya wanted on her hands was Atreides blood.
When the rest of her team stood equipped and ready to move through the undergrowth, Valya activated a holomap in the air, and her team gathered around. “We’re here,” she said, pointing. “This sinkhole is our destination. Three of you were with me when we sealed away the computers, and though it’s been less than a year, the jungle reclaims its territory quickly.”
She regarded them all. “We retrieve what is ours, which will bring us one step closer to rebuilding the Sisterhood to what it is meant to be.”
* * *
VALYA AND HER comrades trudged through the gloomy Rossak jungles. Carrying electronic locators, they moved behind two trailblazing commandos who wielded melters that dissolved the tangled plants to clear a wide path.
Their tracks would be obvious, but once they escaped with the computers, Valya didn’t care. Imperial scouts would never guess what had really happened, and the fecund silvery purple foliage of Rossak would erase the scars quickly enough.
All of them still wore enhancement goggles, w
hich added a greenish outline to everything around them. Behind the trail-cutters, six commandos guided silent suspensor bins to hold all of the sealed components.
Valya sent two women ahead, with two others on each side to watch for any dangers. They found a game trail trending in the right direction, and the foliage melters cleared the path through vines and tangled s forward to meeting her,” Vor saidWh womanhrubs. Sister Olivia and two others maneuvered the suspensor bins. It was warm even in the night, and Valya perspired heavily.
Having led the original operation to hide the computers, she knew where to find the limestone sinkhole. She came upon the dim, moss-blurred outline of a mushroom-shaped rock, recognized the landmark, and moved off the trail to explore, telling the others to wait. Valya found a loose stack of pancake-shaped limestone slabs as high as her shoulders. She walked around it, discovering one of the loose slabs fallen to one side—it looked natural to the casual eye. Using her goggles, she enhanced the detail.
“Over here,” she called. “I need help.”
Valya stood aside and directed two of her commandos to push. Under their effort the stone moved, revealing a concealed cave opening and a sloping passage lined with rough limestone steps. She adjusted her light-enhancing goggles and entered the darkness, leading the way down.
When she and her companions had hidden the components here, they’d had very little time. Mother Superior distracted Dorotea’s followers by inviting them to a debate, fooling the detractors into believing that the subject of computers was open for discussion. And while that was happening, Valya had saved the machines and records.
Mentats of Dune Page 12
