Navigators of Dune

by Brian Herbert

  The captive VenHold crewmembers seemed a more likely source of viable information. Salvador had enjoyed the game of torture, using his adept practitioners to ferret out unwilling revelations, but Roderick had been loathe to use the same tactics. Now, however, he decided to do whatever was necessary for the sake of the Imperium. And for his sister.

  First, he sent Fielle to interrogate the prisoners, hoping the Truthsayer could learn something important. On Admiral Harte’s flagship, only an hour ago, she had finished questioning all of the captives. Venport’s employees refused to speak, and even the best Truthsayer could not determine the truth or lie of silence.

  When Fielle proved unsuccessful, Roderick agreed to send in the team of Scalpel interrogators led by Robér Cecilio. In a chamber below decks on Harte’s flagship, Cecilio and his team busily worked on the employees. The pain expert seemed to want to make up for his failure to learn anything from the captive Navigator he had probed in Zimia.

  Roderick stayed aboard his plush barge, not wanting to watch what they were doing, but his imagination disturbed him too much. Unable to wait any longer, he shuttled over to Harte’s ship, where he was led down to the secure decks. Escorted by Admiral Harte himself, he walked reluctantly toward a closed door at the end of a corridor. He heard muffled screams, but took a deep breath and kept going. He needed to know.

  He felt glad that Haditha wasn’t here.

  As if expecting him, Robér Cecilio stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him. “Sire, you instructed me that speed was more important than subtlety. I was pleased to operate without any restraints this time.”

  The Emperor assessed the black-robed man, then stared at the closed door. He could hear no noises on the other side now, wondered if any of the VenHold prisoners were still alive. “Yes, and the results? Do you know where he is hiding?”

  “I am confident that the first five captives had no information to reveal, but several others finally provided a star-system name and astronomical coordinates. A planet called Denali. They say it is the site of a top-secret VenHold research facility.”

  This confirmed the information from the half-damaged navigation database in one of the stranded VenHold ships.

  He stepped around the Scalpel interrogator, entered the sealed chamber. The room smelled of blood, urine, and terror but he was even more sickened to see the VenHold employee: he was horrifically broken, most of his skin flayed, his arm and leg joints in all the wrong places. Cecilio proudly went to the unconscious victim and prodded him, as if he considered this wreck of humanity to be a trophy. The eyelids flickered, didn’t open.

  “Sire, I’m convinced that the subject’s information is accurate—and consistent with the revelations from three other prisoners.”

  Though Roderick was disturbed to see such mangled remnants of a human being, he had to reassess what actions he considered necessary and acceptable. It was a matter of priorities. “Thank you, Cecilio.” He turned to Admiral Harte. “Denali?”

  “Sire, I had an aide look it up in archives from the League of Nobles. Denali appeared in the old records as a small planet with a poisonous atmosphere … possibly an old cymek base, but not confirmed. Never settled, never even noticed as far as the records showed.”

  The Emperor nodded. “A poisonous planet for a poisonous man.” That was where Roderick would go.

  * * *

  RODERICK RUSHED AN Imperial communiqué back to Salusa, summoning the bulk of his armed forces on two foldspace carriers so he could bring an overwhelming fleet to Denali. He intended to snuff out his last major enemy.

  When the Imperial battleships arrived at Lampadas, Roderick studied a screen in the main salon of his barge, with Admiral Harte standing beside him. “A handful of ships will be enough to keep the remaining Butlerian fanatics under control here, Sire,” Harte said. “They have nothing. Better to devote our main force to fighting Venport, who is still a threat.”

  Harte’s forces had already commandeered any damaged but functional Butlerian ships and pressed them into Imperial service as well. Without Manford Torondo, the fanatics were disorganized; Anari Idaho was a Swordmaster, not a true leader. The Butlerians were fewer in number now, and too weak to pose much of a concern. The problem was mostly solved.

  Ironically, Josef Venport had done exactly as he’d promised: He had taken care of the fanatics and killed their commander. And the Butlerians, in turn—with the timely and unexpected assistance of Admiral Harte—had caused significant damage to the VenHold threat. A crackdown on Denali would wrap it all up, and Venport would not know what was coming.

  “The Directeur is not yet sufficiently defeated,” Roderick announced. “We will leave some of your FTL ships here to monitor the Butlerians on the ground, but I am taking the rest of our fleet to finish the job at Denali.”

  Harte followed Roderick out of the barge’s luxurious main salon. “The Butlerians will wish to join us so they can continue their fight against the Directeur. Since his cymeks killed Leader Torondo, they loathe him more than ever.”

  “I forbid their further involvement,” Roderick said. “The Butlerians no longer dictate my actions. We will achieve our own victory, Admiral—an Imperial victory. And then we can end this terrible mess, once and for all.”

  The glory of love.

  The nature of love.

  The foolishness of love.

  —ERASMUS, attempts at poetry, New Laboratory Journals, volume 2

  Inside the laboratory domes, Anna followed Erasmus wherever he went. She drew strength from being in his orbit, but her constant presence bothered him more and more, especially now that he had to concentrate on urgent preparations for the defense of Denali. Not surprisingly, she seemed not to understand the magnitude of the crisis, and he did not have time to explain it to her now.

  During his initial observations of Anna at the Mentat School, he had catalogued her mood swings and biological obsessions. Now that he was with her physically as well as conversationally, his comprehension of the young woman’s needs had grown. She had given him a great deal to ponder, ideas for subtle follow-up research, but none of that was important now. He actually found her irritating, even though she could not be blamed.

  Under normal circumstances, the independent robot would have enjoyed the opportunity to conduct even more experiments on Anna’s emotions, but in light of the current crisis facing them, such esoteric studies were a lower priority. In all probability, with the persistent prying of the Emperor’s operatives, a vengeful Imperial fleet would soon discover Denali. Then they would be in deep trouble.

  Since Erasmus’s own survival was on the line, he did not like the uncertainty.

  Anna trailed after him from one laboratory to another as he watched the scientists working with greater desperation than before. She touched him often, smiling and chattering, and it was all he could do to concentrate. Fortunately, she had already recorded the necessary video message for Venport to use as a bargaining chip, if he ever needed to hold her up as a human shield.

  During the Jihad, Erasmus and Omnius had used many thousands of human shields at the Battle of Corrin, but it had not proved a sufficient deterrent. Anna was only one person, and a damaged one at that. Knowing this, the independent robot had to find another way to save them.

  Many of the discarded combat meks taken from the thinking-machine fleet had been left on the surface of Denali, just like the original cymek walkers, and Erasmus had sorted out the most viable ones, to wipe their basic programming, and to recharge some of their weapons systems. In times past, such fighting meks could wreak terrible damage upon undefended human populations. Here at Denali, though, there was little chance of a ground battle, so he did not expend a great deal of effort on the possibility. He had many of the still-functional robots sent to equipment hangars on standby, however, just in case.

  The machines were not hardened against the corrosive atmosphere, but he readied as many as he could, then devoted his attentions to larger-scale po
ssibilities. He had a planet to defend, and all the resources of Venport Holdings. It reminded him of when Omnius had allowed him to dabble in any research that interested him. It was good to have a body again.

  He also oversaw the frantic development of small, self-targeted missiles that could soar into orbit and hover beside an enemy ship, then pass slowly through its shields unhindered; once through the barrier, they would accelerate to explode into the hull. That seemed a promising approach, but developing a useful arsenal of such weapons would require extensive testing and prototype iterations. And Denali had no time.

  Nevertheless, Erasmus reviewed the plans and suggested modifications. One of the researchers was clearly suspicious of him because he was a former thinking machine, but Erasmus frowned with his human face, forming an expression that was becoming more and more natural to him. “You distrust me, but I challenge you to use your logic. Even if I were as evil as you think I am, it behooves me to help save us all—myself included. I have as much at stake here as anyone does.”

  The scientist muttered, “But what happens afterward?” Dismissing the robot, he turned his attention back to a workstation beside him, where a second designer was modifying an electronic detonation mechanism. Erasmus bent closer to see.

  Feeling ignored, Anna clung to his arm. “Come, there’s something important I want to show you.”

  Even as Anna talked with him about inconsequential things, he used part of his brain to upload and memorize not only the shield-penetrating missile design, but also several other promising concepts that were, alas, still in the blueprint stage. There was no time to develop and implement them. Unless the Emperor took far longer than expected, these alternate weapons systems would never be constructed before it was too late.

  Fortunately, Erasmus could process more than one problem at a time. Holding in his mind the projects he needed to review, he followed Anna as requested. Moving down the corridors, she told him about her fogwood tree back on Salusa and an old woman named Orenna who had been like a mother to her. She rambled on about memories from her childhood, including a favorite meal she had eaten for her ninth birthday celebration.

  Erasmus dismissed all of her comments as he continued his military analysis.

  When they reached their private quarters, Anna sealed the door, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the mouth. “I’ve been with you all day, yet I still miss you! I want to feel your body against mine.” Laughing, she peeled off his tunic and discarded it. “We can use those manuals you remember from old Earth.” She ran her palms over his muscular chest.

  Erasmus responded to her kisses, but remained focused on how soon Emperor Roderick might discover the location of Denali, and how quickly these facilities could produce a meaningful number of the shield-penetrating missiles.

  Disappointed that he wasn’t undressing her, Anna removed her own clothing and stood naked before him, waiting for him to admire her. He knew what she was expecting, so with a distant part of his mind, he formed words to tell her what she wanted to hear. “You are very beautiful, Anna, and I am pleased to have you as my lover.”

  Elated, she pulled him onto the bed with her, and although he performed as expected, most of his computer mind was devoted to continued analysis and projections. He developed another possible modification to the slow-missile design and also considered an improved set of autonomous instructions to the combat meks he had recently reprogrammed outside the domes. Every small thing added to Denali’s defenses.

  While Anna fussed over him, he went through the obligatory physical motions, but she seemed to sense his distance. Straddling him, she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned close so that he was forced to look at her. “Make love to me!” she insisted, even though he had been doing so for the past half hour. “I want your whole focus, just like I’m focused on you. We belong together.”

  But he was frustrated by her interference, and made her roll off of him. “An Imperial fleet may be coming to destroy us, and I am busy trying to prepare our defenses. You and I have experienced intercourse in numerous varieties. I’ve already catalogued the experiences and sorted the data. There is no need to continue this. Other things are much more important. What is the point of repeating an experiment so many times, especially a successful one?”

  She scrambled off the bed and stared at him with wide eyes that quickly filled with tears. “An experiment? No need to continue this? What do you mean?”

  Erasmus couldn’t understand. “Were you not satisfied? I believe I performed well enough. We are finished for now. Other concerns are much more important.”

  She raised her voice to a shout. “We’re finished for now? An experiment? That’s all I am to you? Don’t you understand? I love you, Erasmus.”

  “Of course, I am sure you do.”

  Anna’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor. “You don’t feel anything for me? I’ve given you my entire heart and soul, everything I have. I thought you were my perfect lover, but I … I’m just an experiment to you?” She wiped tears from her eyes and grabbed her clothes as she stumbled for the door. “Other things are more important? With your new body, I thought you wanted to have human emotions.”

  “Yes, that is one of my priorities, but right now, I cannot be delayed by biological needs. The mind is superior to the body. Can’t you understand that?”

  She retorted, “I thought you felt deep love for me—but all you learned was how to lie better!”

  Erasmus pondered her outburst for a moment. “How have I lied?” Tapping into his memories of Gilbertus’s execution, he compared his experiences, his memories, his … feelings toward Anna, such as they were. He didn’t fully understand them. He had a definite fondness for her, but she obviously felt much more strongly toward him.

  Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them away, and just permitted them to flow. He found this curious, but only for a moment before he turned his attentions elsewhere, as he needed to do.

  He wondered if this was the place where he should apologize to her. He decided he would have to deal with that later, when it was a priority.

  In a serendipitous coincidence, two other ideas about the robot reprogramming clicked together as his gelcircuitry continued to process. A possible solution! “I cannot spare any time for our personal interactions right now.” He grabbed for his own clothes. “I must speak with the weapons scientists.”

  Sobbing uncontrollably, Anna bolted out into the corridor and ran toward one of the now-empty cymek hangars. He assumed she would huddle by herself and cry until she was red-faced and swollen-eyed. He could deal with that later. Right now, Anna’s capricious emotions reminded him of Serena Butler decades ago, and her constantly crying baby.

  With Anna no longer distracting him, he had the space and privacy he required, and the ability to concentrate on vital matters.

  After expending a great deal of effort in searching for a thing, one may find that the reality is quite different from what was expected.

  —Mentat School admonition

  Vorian Atreides knew that the best way to avoid attackers was to remain constantly on the move. A hunted man should sleep in a different safe house every night and move from job to job, planet to planet.

  In this case, though, Vor was both the pursuer and the pursued. He wanted the Harkonnen assassins to come here, and he needed to kill his enemies before they got to him. Willem’s arrival complicated the situation, but he could depend on his young companion as well. Willem was eager to fight at his side. Too often in his life, Vor had tried to go it alone. Now, the pair worked and planned together.

  They were ready.

  Korla’s scavengers had few sophisticated systems inside their outpost in the rubble, but the people were security conscious, guarding their own possessions. In order to keep peace among her workers, the Queen of Trash had installed sensors and alarms throughout the underground warren, even in sections damaged by the recent flowmet
al instability. Her people had to worry more about stealing from one another than about any outside threat, since few visitors came to Corrin. Yet there was little of portable value here, except for what they themselves excavated.

  Out of an abundance of caution, as soon as Willem joined him, Vor began choosing new and secret quarters for them, never spending more than one night in each place before moving on. On a wild and ungoverned planet such as this, it was hard to say how many people knew their whereabouts at any given moment.

  Vor intended for Valya and Tula Harkonnen to find him—but on his own terms. He didn’t want to be blindsided, as they had been on Chusuk. Vor and Willem were lucky to have survived that; next time, he needed to see the enemy coming.

  Without notifying Korla or anyone else, Vor used a specialized tool to unlock a chamber he knew was unoccupied—the home of one of the dead miners from the recent flood of liquid metal. He left their previous quarters locked so that a casual observer—or a dedicated assassin—would think they still lived there.

  After the other scavengers were asleep, he and Willem took their meager belongings and moved quietly in the darkness. Vor also left tiny monitoring devices on the tunnel walls, particularly just outside his former chamber, which would alert him to any tampering. He had spent several weeks preparing for the eventual attack, building up secret defenses, even implanting tiny but powerful explosives in inconspicuous places, as an added surprise.

  Feeling momentarily safe in their new hidden room, Vor sat on a wall bench, taking first watch while Willem caught some sleep on one of the bunks. After three hours, he would awaken the young man, and they would switch places. The darkness around them was illuminated only by the faint glow of a holo display that transmitted a projection of the tunnels. At present, it showed only the dim, empty passageways and numerous sealed chambers where the scavengers slept.

  Vor checked the weapons kit secured to his waist; Willem had one of his own in a storage alcove next to his bunk. Each kit contained a knife, a projectile pistol, compact tools, and a pry bar.