“I am listening,” Draigo said.
“With my human body I am finally able to consider new experiments and perform research I was previously unable to do. I revel in the marvelous possibilities,” Erasmus said. “As I continue my assessments, however, I realize that I owe a number of debts. I owe Venport Holdings for my rescue and sanctuary, I owe the Denali scientists for the work they continue to do, and I owe Directeur Venport personally. I am also obligated to you, Mentat Draigo Roget.”
“I see you have acquired a sense of personal responsibility,” Draigo said.
“I’m teaching him to be grateful,” Anna said. “I am certainly happy to have him with us.”
Erasmus continued in a voice that sounded much like that of Headmaster Albans. “The sensations and experiences in this biological body are remarkable and largely unexpected. For that I am … exceedingly thankful. You, Draigo Roget, are personally responsible for saving my memory core—just as Gilbertus earlier saved me from the ruins of Corrin. You protected and preserved my gelsphere—and therefore all my knowledge and experiences—after the Butlerians overran the school on Lampadas.”
“Don’t forget that I helped save you too,” Anna interjected.
Erasmus worked his facial muscles, eventually forming a frown. “And I have already expressed my gratitude to you. I am accomplishing a different objective now.”
She looked away, scolded.
“And what objective is that?” Draigo asked, thinking about how very peculiar this situation was. “To thank me?”
“To provide something of tangible value. Many Denali scientists believe my knowledge will lead to a breakthrough, but unfortunately thinking machines were not adept at innovation, and as a result we lost the Jihad. Hence, I doubt if I can help in any creative fashion. Any technologies I might offer would pale in comparison with what you already possess.”
“Then what is it you have in mind?” Draigo folded his arms across his chest.
Erasmus looked at him with the eerie eyes of Headmaster Albans. “Although I have inspired no theoretical breakthroughs, I can offer brute force right now.”
“In war, brute force can indeed be useful.” He nodded for Erasmus to continue.
“In the final days of the human war against the Synchronized Empire, the evermind Omnius dispatched many robotic war fleets, which spread out to numerous systems. Most of those machine battleships fell into silent inactivity when the Omnius copies were shut down.”
“Venport Holdings already located many of those abandoned robot ships,” Draigo said. “We refurbished the vessels and consolidated them into our commercial spacing fleet.”
Erasmus said something that surprised him. “I know of an undiscovered battle group: forty robotic warships that were shut down en route to a battle that was already lost. Would you like to add them to VenHold’s resources?” His lips formed a smile that he had apparently practiced. “Perhaps they would be helpful in your fight against Lampadas.”
Draigo felt a thrill as possibilities cascaded through his mind. “I am sure the Directeur will be quite interested, provided you can find them.”
Erasmus continued. “You are aware that Denali was once a cymek base. Long ago, this robot fleet departed from here and was shut down shortly thereafter; it has been dormant ever since. I have the exact location. With minimal effort you could retrieve the ships, recondition them, install new weapons, and even add foldspace engines if you desire. The vessels are yours.”
Anna slid her arms around the robot’s waist and hugged him.
Draigo was already projecting many effective ways to deploy a whole new battle group. “That would be a most acceptable gesture of gratitude.”
* * *
IT FELT GOOD to be experimenting again. That was the primary reason for the independent robot’s existence. Spending the past eight decades as nothing more than a disembodied gelsphere, Erasmus had been unable to perform the exciting work he wanted to do, and he’d had to content himself with mere thought experiments, as well as subtle psychological manipulations and schemes—which, while valuable, were not nearly as satisfying as genuine, tangible action. He’d also focused on surviving, and had accomplished that.
Now, in his flesh-and-blood form, Erasmus could walk wherever he wanted, touch anything he wanted, even eat food, and he could at last return to his research. He stood in the laboratory chamber that held the disembodied brains of failed Navigators. The brains fascinated him, enlarged and evolved, supposedly examples of superior humans, although even “superior” humans were a far cry from the capabilities of thinking machines.
He looked at the rows of tanks, all of them being prepared for installation in powerful cymek walker forms. They seemed to contemplate the meaning of their existence.
“You’ve been staring for an hour,” Anna said. “We should go somewhere, do something.”
“I am doing something,” he said. In bygone days, as a prestigious robot on Corrin, he had dissected, stimulated, and tortured his share of human brains. “I am considering experiments to perform.”
Anna stepped closer. “Can I help?”
He pondered, choosing the right answer. “Of course.” That was all she needed to hear.
Anna Corrino herself was one of his greatest experiments, proving how much he could achieve in manipulating, shaping, and developing her damaged personality. But he was mostly finished with her. Now he wanted to poke and prod the Navigator brains.
Although Anna had seemed bored and impatient only a moment ago, once he brought her into his work, she felt more valuable. With her assistance he prepared several initial tests. He gave her instructions, and she scurried off to obtain equipment for him.
He selected three living brains to experiment on, and when Anna brought him long, thin needle probes with electrified ends, he went through an extended process of trial and error to locate and stimulate the primary pain receptors in the Navigator brains. With thoughtrodes connected to each specimen, he took readings, adjusted his work, and promptly discovered how to torment the subjects.
He had done this many times before on human brains, but these mutated and supposedly evolved specimens were behaving the same way, with the same primitive responses at the base level of the brain. Even though the specimens did not have a physical form to thrash and scream, which would clearly demonstrate the agony they experienced, the thoughtrode readings did not lie.
“Are we getting the right results, Erasmus?” Anna asked.
“Disappointing ones,” he said, and Anna’s face fell, as if he had criticized her. “It’s not you,” he added quickly. “It is a failing of the brains themselves.”
He reached out to grasp another tank, pressing his hands against the curved plaz wall and lifting it up. The next subject.
“What are you doing?” asked a sharp voice.
Erasmus turned to see Dr. Danebh scowling at him. His own human reactions nearly made him drop the brain container. But he managed to control himself. If the brain tank were to shatter on the laboratory floor, it would be a waste of an experimental subject.
“I am performing scientific research,” he replied. “Is that not what this facility is designed for?”
The Tlulaxa doctor gave him a look of consternation. “Those brains are to guide cymek walkers in our attack against the Butlerians. Denali isn’t a facility devoted to pure research, but to develop weapons against Manford Torondo. That is our priority. Don’t damage our resources.”
Erasmus accepted the justification. “Very well.” He put the canister back in its slot and told Anna to return the other three to their places. “I believe I have learned everything necessary here.”
He shook his head, imitating a gesture he had learned from observing humans. “Considering the primitive responses the subjects have demonstrated, I can understand why these are failed Navigators.”
The one who makes a suggestion is often at a disadvantage compared with the one who listens and considers it, especially if there a
re conflicting personal goals.
—RODERICK CORRINO, advice to his brother Salvador
Valya continued to monitor the progress of her Sisters, especially the stubborn Orthodox ones. Apart from a handful of discards who had needed to be killed, most were successfully retrained, both physically and mentally. The Sisterhood was once again strong and stable, under her able leadership.
Ninke, though, remained a question mark. And a big one.
Sister Deborah stood beside Valya on the practice field, watching hundreds of trainees going through their solo routines, including the spunky and determined Gabi. They kicked at the air and struck imaginary targets with stone-hard fingertips, moving fast. Together, they perfected the combination of skills from Valya’s Swordmaster education, the techniques she and her brother Griffin had created for themselves, and the Sorceress Way. Though closely packed together, the frenetic trainees did not touch one another, but landed gracefully in their proper combat positions, as if choreographed.
“They are making some progress,” Deborah reported.
“Not enough for the standards I have set.” Valya had found that it was never wise to offer too much praise, which might encourage some trainees to be satisfied with less than their absolute best. She raised her hands to pause the session, calling out, “I’ve seen good improvement, but good is less than excellent. A Sister must attain the pinnacle of human abilities, physical and mental. That is why Mother Superior Raquella founded our order.
“I have selected the best among you to undergo more intensive mental training, to add balance to your fighting abilities. You will need those mental skills to advance the Sisterhood into the future, as you will be taught important psychological tools, emotional shaping, and even Truthsaying for those of you who have the ability.”
After she motioned for them to continue practicing, Valya focused on Ninke, while the former Orthodox Sister went through high-order defenses in which she countered complex attacks in sparring sessions with Gabi. Despite Ninke’s stocky, muscular build, her movements were lithe. Her broken arm had recovered sufficiently that she trained with the others, showing only a slight favoring of the other arm.
Valya raised her eyebrows and turned to Deborah. “What is your assessment of Ninke?”
A small twitch of a frown turned Deborah’s lips. “Since being released from the medical center, she is one of the standouts in both the physical and mental arenas. The injury may have made her reconsider her rebellious attitude.”
“But is she loyal?”
Deborah could only shrug. “She professes to adhere to our philosophy, yet even with my careful observation, I can’t ascertain her loyalty to you, Mother Superior. Without question, Ninke is loyal to the Sisterhood—but her degree of devotion to your new methods is not so clear. I doubt if she will ever be as faithful to you as she once was to Reverend Mother Dorotea.”
Valya’s brow furrowed in displeasure. “Just as there are degrees of love, so too are there degrees of devotion and loyalty. How much loyalty do you think is necessary for our purposes?” She watched Ninke continue to fight, wondering whether the woman was worth keeping, or if it was safer just to cut their potential losses and get rid of her after all.
As if sensing she was being singled out, Ninke stopped her routines and let Gabi catch her breath. She turned to face the two observers, her expression openly hostile. Valya stared back at her coolly, and spoke sidelong to the Sorceress. “Her blatant display of emotion shows a lack of mental toughness.”
Ninke wrapped herself in utter calmness and casually glided toward the observers through the frenetic, fast-moving trainees without brushing against them. She faced Valya. “Mother Superior, I survived the hazing you imposed on my faction, and I completed all the demeaning tasks you made me perform. Because of your grudge against us, my fellow Orthodox Sisters have been beaten and injured—some even killed. But I am still here.”
Valya instinctively tensed. “Those others were more valuable to the Sisterhood as examples of what happens to people who disobey me. I believe my methods have been effective.”
“And me?” Ninke sniffed. “Of what value am I to you?”
With a stiff smile, Valya said, “When your faction betrayed us and nearly destroyed the Sisterhood, you committed treasonous acts. But I see potential in you, Ninke, so I have given you a second chance. Will you take it, or spurn your opportunity?”
Ninke lifted her chin. “I have proved myself enough. Sometimes an injustice must be addressed with more than words or acquiescence.” She dropped into a fighting stance, her muscles loose and poised, her eyes hyperalert. “And this is one of those times. Accept me now as I am, or kill me.”
The rest of the Sisters halted their practice, some of them aghast. Deborah stepped out of the way as Valya and Ninke began to circle each other. Ninke glanced to her left, which Valya interpreted as a deception, so she prepared for a strike in the opposite direction, but the other Sister whirled around exactly where she had looked, a double feint, and sprang straight at Valya and struck out at her. Valya used her own reflexes and combined fighting techniques. She felt a ripple of air as Ninke missed her. Barely. Ninke did not favor her injured arm at all, so the hesitation she’d shown in using it earlier must have been faked.
But when Valya spun to launch her own attack, the other woman was unexpectedly there facing her. Ninke struck the Mother Superior in the center of her chest with a hard kick. Valya bent her knees and let herself fall backward to soften the impact, then sprang back out of the combat area to better prepare for her opponent’s next move.
In one blur of motion after another, the other Sister showed that she understood something of the advanced fighting methods, but Valya spotted patterns in Ninke’s interpretation of the Sorceress Way. Patterns that reflected her inexperience.
Valya went on the attack, following the other woman’s precise moves like a shadow. She surprised Ninke and drove her back with a series of kicks, fist thrusts, and hard elbows, ending with a stunning blow to the side of the head. Then Valya took her down with a strike to the knees, pinned her to the ground, and pressed two fingers against a nerve in her neck, rendering her helpless.
In the adrenaline rush, Valya could have killed Ninke on the spot, but decided to spare her life. She released her hold on the pressure point and backed away, then astonished Ninke by helping her to her feet.
Trembling with anger, ready to continue fighting, Ninke faced Valya. “I am loyal to the Sisterhood, Mother Superior,” she said in a defiant voice. “And I will fight our enemies. Are you an enemy of the Sisterhood? Or should I focus on a different one?”
Valya smiled. “Your comment is as unexpected as some of your fighting moves.” She nodded quickly. “I am the Mother Superior. I am not now, nor have I ever been, nor will I ever be, an enemy of the Sisterhood. We already have enough enemies.” She raised her voice, so the others could hear. “Ninke, your punishment is over, the past is forgotten. Now it is time for us to unify into a strong force—a vital, yet nearly invisible, part of the Imperium.”
Ninke moved back among the other women on the practice field, where she resumed her energetic routines with Gabi. “Yes,” Valya muttered to Deborah as they continued to observe. “We certainly have enough outside enemies to keep us busy.”
* * *
WHEN CIOBA STEPPED off the VenHold shuttle on Wallach IX, returning to the Sisterhood school after such a long time, she was glad to see her black-robed colleagues awaiting her. Though her original training had taken place on Rossak, this still felt like a homecoming.
Cioba had chosen to wear the white robe of a Sorceress, calling attention to her rare genetics. She was proud of her heritage, and now she hoped to make these women the allies of Venport Holdings, even though they were already working more closely with the Imperial Court … though not always to VenHold’s benefit, from what her sources had reported to her.
As she crossed the landing field toward the main school buildings, Cioba noted
that the gathered Sisters stood poised, as if they were a security detail in addition to a reception committee. Among them, the moon-faced Sister Olivia stared at her guardedly. “You have come alone?”
Trying to understand the unexpectedly stiff attitude, Cioba said, “I came alone, but I am pleased to find myself among friends now.”
A small smile broke through Olivia’s wary expression. “The Emperor has clamped down on your husband’s company, and we know VenHold recently attempted to lay siege to Salusa Secundus, an attempt that ended in a debacle. It is dangerous for us to have you here, or to have any dealings with Josef Venport.”
“The Emperor took severe and unjustified actions to harm us, but Venport Holdings is strong and will survive. We need the advice and assistance of the Sisterhood, however. That is why I have come.” Cioba glanced around. “I must see Mother Superior Valya about an important matter. Please, Olivia?”
With a softening expression, Olivia gestured toward several large new buildings under construction. “The Mother Superior monitors the work daily. Come with me.”
Olivia led Cioba up a stone-paved path to the main buildings. While Josef had given them the initial classroom structures that helped the Sisterhood make their start here, the Mother School seemed to be thriving now on this remote world, going into a major expansion phase. Would Valya remember to show gratitude for what Venport Holdings had done for them?
The landing field had a new terminal structure, larger than the previous temporary one. A male construction crew moved a prefab building on a rolling framework to a new foundation, while workers installed windows and doors in two large new dormitories that had stone walls and red tile roofs.
“This school is different from our cliff city on Rossak, but it is going to be beautiful,” Cioba said. “Raquella would have been pleased.”
Navigators of Dune Page 26
