Текст книги "Mentats of Dune"
Автор книги: Brian Herbert
Соавторы: Kevin Anderson
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 38 страниц)
“I am the Emperor. I’m supposed to have everything.” Salvador pondered for a long moment, wrestling with his dissatisfaction, and finally he looked up. “And you think this is a good solution?”
“I do. It demonstrates that you are firm, but not vindictive. It’s the mark of a true leader.”
Salvador sighed. “Very well, brother, it is my command that the assets of Omak Péle are forfeit. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Chapter 28 (With the right tools and proper concentration)
With the right tools and proper concentration, we can unlock secrets hiding within the human mind. Unfortunately, some of those secrets are better left sealed away.
– GILBERTUS ALBANS, Mentat Doctrines
Erasmus observed his subject, conversed with her, and instructed her. Now that he finally had the grudging permission of Gilbertus, he wanted to spend every moment studying the puzzle of Anna Corrino. He was learning much from their interactions, and felt a sense of satisfaction that she seemed to have grown so fond of him.
Unfortunately, the young woman had her routine class exercises, and, being human, she also required sleep. The independent robot had no such biological frailty; he possessed sufficient energy to concentrate, discuss, and analyze all day long, but Erasmus could detect when the young woman’s energy reserves were being depleted.
Through the spy-eyes he saw that Anna looked haggard, her eyes red from lack of sleep, as well as from periodic weeping when the robot prodded her about the disappointments in her life. He liked to provoke the emotional reactions in her, so he could study them in detail. It had been so long since he had complete freedom with all his interesting human subjects, and he wanted to make up for lost time. Still, though his curiosity remained unabated, Erasmus needed to let her rest … to an extent.
How he wished he could interact with her directly, though, in a personal and tactile way. Gilbertus had had ample time to find Erasmus a permanent artificial body, but he’d been unable, or unwilling, to do so. He didn’t understand why his ward would stall. Had he not served Gilbertus extremely well as a paternal presence and mentor? Surely even the Headmaster wanted more than a conversational companion. Erasmus could well imagine how much he’d accomplish in his experiments if he were more than a disembodied voice in Anna Corrino’s ear.
Erasmus mused about how Anna might react if she discovered that her secret new friend was a reviled robot. Would she still consider him such a close confidant if she knew what he was? Considering the young woman’s fragmented mind and sometimes rational, sometimes volatile emotions, maybe she would.…
Late at night, when Anna lay on her bed, Erasmus spoke through the hidden wall speakers. To continue her instruction, he suggested mental exercises similar to the ones he had used to train the young, feral Gilbertus Albans. But Anna found those challenges too simple, and her mind was already sophisticated at solving puzzles. She could rearrange complex shapes, interlock them, and build exquisitely beautiful sculptures. In a holographic tactical room where Mentats performed strategic exercises with imaginary space fleets, Anna easily spotted patterns, too, and few of the other trainees would even play against her anymore.
As Anna drifted off to sleep, so mentally exhausted she was unable to stay awake, Erasmus told her about old military engagements, machine forces versus the Army of the Jihad. Although he focused on battles where the unpredictable humans had lost, he did not editorialize, merely instructed – and corrected – her in certain historical facts. He talked about the great machine victories in the Jihad, some led by Omnius’s forces, others led by General Agamemnon and his cymeks. He enjoyed providing details about the machine conquests of Ix, Walgis, and Chusuk, where entire populations had been slaughtered.
When he realized that Anna had begun to doze, he jarred her awake so he could continue his story. “I’m sorry,” she said. “So sleepy.”
“I know you’re tired. Reshaping your mind and learning so much history is a wearisome process. But it’s important for your development.”
A year ago, he had eavesdropped while one of Gilbertus’s old students, Sister Karee Marques from Rossak, gave the Headmaster a new thought-focusing drug. Sapho, she’d called it, a distillation from the barrier roots on Ecaz, and she thought it might prove useful for Mentat trainees. Erasmus knew where the drug was kept and had ideas about how it might be used.
“There’s something I want you to try,” he said to Anna, knowing she would do whatever he suggested. “Go quietly to the dispensary, and I will help you locate vials of a particular red liquid. Bring me one of them. We will both find it very interesting.” He told her the name of the drug, assured her it would help.
“Let’s consider it our special little experiment,” Erasmus said. “I think it’s exactly what you need.”
* * *
ANNA CORRINO GLIDED along the corridors of the Mentat School, flitting through shadows – she found it thrilling, like when she used to sneak off to meet Hirondo Nef. Now she felt as if she were on an espionage operation, a character from one of the stories she’d read with Lady Orenna back in the Imperial Palace.
She missed Orenna. Anna paused, trying to remember. The old woman had visited her here not long ago. Was that right? Yes! And Roderick had been with her, too.
Recalling the assignment from her secret friend, Anna moved along. She didn’t need to use much caution, because at this hour the Mentat students were in their assigned quarters, sleeping. Outside, perimeter guards watched for any signs of attack, and defensive systems protected against large predators. But inside the academy complex, the corridors were as hushed as a held breath.
No one challenged her as she moved toward the medical dispensary near the dissection labs, and Anna crept into the gloomy storeroom, knowing exactly where to look.
Sapho. A mind-enhancing drug, a catalyst that could help make her thoughts clear and normal again. Anna withdrew the vial and held it in the dim light. It was the deep ruby color of thick blood. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine.
In the back of her mind, questions kept nagging at her … not quite another voice, simply concerns that emerged from her own brain. If this was a new and untested drug, how did the friendly voice know it would help? How did that voice know so many details about her past, about her secrets? Who was he? He seemed to be an expert on any topic she could imagine, though, and Anna trusted him. He was a true friend who understood her secrets.
Not wanting to wait to get back to her quarters, she opened the vial and sipped the sapho. The taste was pungent and bitter, not at all sweet, as it appeared. Deciding that a mere sip could not possibly be enough, she upended the vial and drained it before she could react further to the taste.
She hid the empty vial at the back of a shelf and licked her lips. She rubbed her mouth on her forearm, leaving a red stain. She wondered how long it would take for her to notice the effects of the sapho. Anna hurried away from the dispensary with whispering footsteps, imagining the severe consequences she would face if she were caught.
If she were caught …
That thought triggered a troubling echo in her mind, and she began to think of other times she’d been caught at the Imperial Palace, and other consequences. Horrific consequences. She felt memories well up, one after another, like bubbles rising to the surface of a boiling pot.
With sapho, the bubble-memories were brighter and fresher than they would have been otherwise, vivid in all of their details. She remembered slipping away to meet her young lover. She had loved Hirondo with such intensity, although he was only a palace chef who was deemed inappropriate for her affections. It wasn’t fair! The romance lasted for several weeks before they were discovered and torn from each other’s arms. After she kept trying to see him, Hirondo was banished – perhaps executed, she was never sure – and then she was exiled to the Sisterhood school on Rossak.
The sapho continued to work inside her brain, triggering more memories.
When she was fifteen, she had taken some of Empress Tabrina’s jewelry because she thought it was pretty. The Empress accused one of the female servants of stealing it, and Anna was relieved that she hadn’t been caught. But when the servant was sentenced to disfiguration as punishment, Anna produced the pilfered jewels and admitted her own guilt.
That should have been the end of the matter, but Emperor Salvador was not satisfied. “Sister, you have to understand consequences and know that you’re responsible when other people get in the way of your indiscretions.” He flared his nostrils. “We will carry out the sentence as decreed.”
And so, Anna had been forced to watch in horrified silence as the servant, still wailing her innocence and begging for mercy, had one of her arms severed.
The memories were so vivid, the pain so fresh and clear, that Anna stumbled into a wall. Recovering her balance, she kept pushing forward, trying to make her way back to her quarters.
More memories surfaced like bats swooping out of a cave at dusk, and the more painful they were, the more intense they appeared in her mind. She could see only her past and not the dim corridors of the Mentat School.
“Help,” she whispered aloud, but she was far from her mysterious friend, who never spoke to her except when she was in her own room. Anna fumbled along, her eyes closed, but that didn’t help, because images continued to flow across her thoughts. She finally found a door that seemed to be her chamber. She pushed it open and tumbled inside, hoping she was in the right place.
The sapho continued to rush through her bloodstream.
She remembered one of her beloved pets, a silky dog so small it could curl up in her lap. But it barked too much, and Salvador always hated it. Her dog died mysteriously, and Anna never knew whether or not the Emperor had instructed one of his guards to poison it. Dear Roderick had consoled her and offered to replace the animal, even though that would never heal her heartache. But Salvador overrode his brother, forbidding more dogs in the palace.
Now, in the dim room Anna staggered forward and bumped her shin painfully against a chair. Her chair. She found her bed by accident and sprawled onto it. The universe of her past whirled around her like a cyclone, gathering strength.
“Help me,” she said aloud. “I can’t stop.”
The memories grew louder, more intense. She saw herself as a girl, playing in the extensive palace gardens and arboretum. But now she had more context, more understanding. She had been too young to comprehend the politics of what was happening in the Imperium, the turmoil caused by the release of the Orange Catholic Bible, how the people despised the Commission of Ecumenical Translators who claimed to speak for God. The popular mood was already raw and inflamed from constant Butlerian provocations, and Emperor Jules had struggled to keep his government from tearing itself apart. As a girl, she hadn’t understood why the CET members, led by their spokesman Toure Bomoko, remained in protective exile.
She had been such an innocent child that day when she went out to the waterwheel cottage on the palace grounds, where she expected to play uninterrupted.
Now, thanks to the sapho, the memory came fully alive inside her. A child again, Anna crept up to the open window, surprised to hear voices inside, since the cottage was rarely used. Heavy breathing and strange noises … a scuffle, judging by the sounds. And a woman crying out. Anna had never heard such a sound before, but it seemed like pain or surprise, or perhaps fear.
Then she saw Orenna with a naked man on top of her. Orenna was flailing her arms, trying to beat the man away … or was she clutching him? Anna couldn’t tell.
When the girl yelled for help, the man jerked away, and she recognized him as Toure Bomoko, head of the CET delegation. Now, Orenna did look terrified – her wide eyes turned toward Anna at the window. The girl screamed again, and the guards came running as Bomoko fled.…
The sapho reawakened her memories of the uproar in the palace and the rage on Emperor Jules’s face. Orenna, the so-called Virgin Empress, was in despair, filled with fear, and Anna had been certain it was because she was afraid of that man attacking her.
In a completely unconvincing voice, Lady Orenna was forced to publicly accuse Bomoko of raping her. The disgraced CET members, in protective exile, were rounded up and arrested, but Bomoko had disappeared.
Anna had never seen her father so furious, so disturbed. She never forgot his words. “I’m so proud of you for the treachery you exposed, daughter. You have done a fine thing that will strengthen our Imperium.” As a reward – Jules insisted it was a reward – he allowed her, forced her, to watch as the CET members were dragged into the courtyard. One after another, the men and women were decapitated, a more ancient and barbaric means of execution than had been used in many centuries. Horrified, with tears streaming down her face, Anna had watched each one die.
Thanks to the sapho coursing through her, she now remembered those sounds of death in incredible detail: the sharp thud, the pop of a severed spine, a wet rain of spraying blood. When she had tried to turn away, her father made her look.
Salvador and Roderick were also there. Even though her brothers were much older than Anna, they seemed confused about what was happening. But Toure Bomoko escaped, and had never been found in all the years afterward. He remained a hunted man, and sightings still occurred regularly.
Anna had tried to erase the scars of those memories, but the sapho reopened the wounds. The memories burned like flames in her mind. The drug surged through her bloodstream, unlocking door after door in her thoughts until finally the sapho wore off and the memories faded. She lay sobbing on her bed.
It was then, at last, that she heard the voice of her special new friend, calm and supportive, yet also curious.
“I take it the sapho unlocked your memories? Excellent! You must tell me what happened – tell me everything.”
Chapter 29 (Just repeating a statement often)
Just repeating a statement often and with great vehemence does not make it a fact, and no amount of repetition can make a rational person believe it.
– DRAIGO ROGET, report to Venport Holdings, “Analysis of Fanatical Patterns”
The Suk doctors at their main hospital on Parmentier were pleased to receive sophisticated medical equipment from VenHold industries – scanners, genetic analysis grids, and diagnostic machines that were dependent on complex circuitry, possibly even computers. Josef Venport did not explain the internal functioning of the analytical devices, and the Suks were wise enough not to ask uncomfortable questions; they merely accepted the generous gifts and expressed their appreciation.
Now, after Josef concluded his business with the Suk School, the VenHold transport ship departed from Parmentier. He climbed the long stairway to the Navigator deck so he could spend time with his great-grandmother. The complexities of running his huge shipping and banking empire must seem trivial to such an advanced being, far beneath the threshold of her attention. Yet he knew that Norma cared for him and wanted to protect her legacy – which included the Navigators (whom she considered her surrogate children) and the critically important spice production on Arrakis.
Up on the Navigator deck, he watched the shifting starfield. When he was with her, Josef felt like a child sitting on a wise and attentive maternal knee.
“As of last week, Grandmother, our fleet has expanded,” he told her, like a boy showing off a good school report. The news had been spread widely throughout Venport Holdings, but he didn’t think Norma paid much attention to those channels of information. “We acquired a hundred more ships.”
He saw her move inside the tank and knew she was listening. Even though she didn’t respond, he continued to explain, “Through intermediaries we expanded our stockholder base and purchased a rival transport company, Nalgan Shipping. Most of the captains still aren’t aware they’ve been absorbed by VenHold.” He smiled at the thought. “Once I make the announcement to the Landsraad, it will cause quite an uproar. The Butlerians will be outraged.”
Norma’s face drifted close to the side of the tank. Her oversize eyes watched him, seeming to focus and unfocus.
He expanded on the significance of this news. “Nalgan Shipping was one of the few companies that serviced Butlerian planets. Now that I own Nalgan Shipping, we will reroute those vessels and further cut off the barbarians. Let them have their dark ages.”
Norma stirred, and finally her voice came through the speakerpatch. “If you have more ships, you will need more Navigators.”
“Yes. We always need more Navigators.”
“You understand their importance,” Norma said. “To the future. To the Spacing Guild.”
“Spacing Guild?” he asked.
Before he could press for further information, Norma interrupted him. “A moment. I require my concentration.” Her eyes lost focus.
He fell silent, wondering if she had suddenly thought of another esoteric idea that was impossible to explain – possibly even a profitable idea.
Josef looked out the broad windowports through which Norma liked to view the universe. The hum of Holtzman engines sounded through the deck, and he felt the buildup of static electricity in the air. So near the Navigator’s tank, the ozone penetrated deep into his sinuses.
Norma Cenva’s mind was so powerful that she could fold space on her own, although with such a large vessel she used the Holtzman engines. Josef felt a wrenching sensation and the stars twisted, then jumped as the universe rippled around the hull.
With the transition completed, Josef continued the conversation. “I promise you, we will defeat the Butlerians, Grandmother. One devastating blow after another. Manford’s puppet Mentat recently defeated a captive mek in a pyramid chess game at the Imperial Court. They believe this proves humans are superior, but the riots afterward merely prove that they are savages.”
After the mob violence, Josef had hoped the Emperor would crush and disband the antitechnology movement … but Salvador didn’t have the spine. Josef was sickened by the images he had seen. “Once they run out of thinking-machine remnants, where will the Butlerians turn for scapegoats? The Half-Manford will need an outside enemy or he’ll lose his hold on the mob. He’ll have to make something up, maybe even secretly manufacture his own machines in order to destroy them in public.”
Norma took the matter seriously. “I can peer through my prescience, but the detail is not sufficient. I cannot predict exactly what he will do.”
Josef couldn’t forget the grim prescient vision she had offered: If he lost the epic battle of reason versus mob-insanity, human civilization could fall into the dark ages for thousands of years. This wasn’t just a war for profit or even a battle of ideologies. It was more fundamental than that and would span many planets, and possibly many lifetimes. “We will prepare our commercial fleet for a long war, which appears to be necessary.”
Each of the new Nalgan vessels would be taken to Kolhar to be refitted with armaments – both for defense and, should the opportunity arise, to annihilate any Butlerian ship that got in the way.
“But first, we go to Salusa Secundus. If they’ve recovered from the mayhem and riots, I intend to address the Landsraad.”
* * *
AS A POWERFUL noble in his own right, it was Josef Venport’s prerogative to address the Landsraad Council whenever he pleased. Even though he was disgusted with them and their dithering politics, he had to deal with them.
As he watched the planetary leaders gathering in the great hall, he mentally divided them into categories: those who publicly supported his cause (not nearly as many as he had hoped), those who quietly acted in their own best interests (and thus could be bribed or manipulated), those who were simply barbarians and therefore lost causes (unless he could overthrow their governments) … and those who were genuinely neutral or undecided. He didn’t understand how anyone could straddle the vast gulf that was tearing apart human civilization.
Josef had assigned junior Mentats to study the lives, connections, alliances, and shadowy secrets of all Landsraad members. Using that surreptitious information, he could cement the loyalty of those who sided with civilization, or he could use it as a weapon against his enemies.
He had never guessed the challenge would be so hard, though. Wasn’t it obvious? Common sense? Once he embargoed the worlds that took the Butlerian pledge, he had expected them to crumble quickly as they felt the lack of products and trade.
Fanatics were difficult to understand. Their foibles would have been laughable, had the fools not been so annoying and narrow-minded.
Emperor Salvador Corrino sat in his gaudy parliamentary chair, looking regal and pompous. He was surrounded by six dark-robed Sisters, with Dorotea closest to him, whispering in his ear, advising him. She was supposedly able to detect falsehood spoken in her presence, but Josef thought her a charlatan, one of the turncoat Sisters who pandered to the Emperor rather than helping to rebuild the school on Wallach IX. He knew that Dorotea was also a follower of the Half-Manford, so, in Josef’s mind, she was already suspect.
Standing in the center of the Landsraad Hall, the Directeur looked around at the empty seats. Too many nobles had chosen not to attend the meeting. Cowards, all of them. Some politicians believed that if they avoided putting their thoughts on record, they could play both sides of the conflict. Josef wouldn’t allow that, and neither would Manford Torondo. It was perhaps the only thing on which the two men agreed.
Josef addressed the diminished Council in a firm voice. “I stand on the side of civilization and prosperity rather than ignorance and destruction. Human greatness cannot cower like a child afraid of the darkness.”
He heard a muttering of discontent in the audience, but he didn’t care that his words were provocative. Josef brushed a forefinger down his bushy mustache, and smiled as he looked around the echoing chamber. “Today, I bring you good news – a step toward binding all civilized worlds into a much stronger Imperium. Venport Holdings has just purchased the vessels of Nalgan Shipping to expand our Spacing Fleet. With these additional ships, we can efficiently service every civilized planet in the Imperium, and adjust our routes to give the Butlerians their opportunity to live without technology, supplies, medical assistance, or commerce – since that is what they seem to want.” He had already terminated all Nalgan Shipping routes to planets that accepted Manford Torondo’s destructive pledge. Now they were effectively cut off.
The muttering rose to an uproar, and Josef reveled in it. He continued to smile. How much more would it take for them to see? “I am also happy to announce an exclusive alliance with Combined Mercantiles for the distribution of spice from Arrakis. From now on, VenHold will be the sole distributor of melange throughout the Imperium. Butlerians on isolated worlds will no longer be tempted by this so-called vice that increases the vigor and longevity of so many.”
The Emperor had gone pale, and leaned forward in his ornate chair. Salvador worked his jaw as if massaging the words before they burst out of his mouth. “Directeur Venport, you are in no position to issue an ultimatum to my Imperium. I am the Emperor.”
Josef turned to him with mild surprise on his face. “Sire, I run a commercial enterprise, and I must decide which markets best serve my business. I would never hinder your personal transport needs, or your personal supply of melange. The VenHold Spacing Fleet already transports and services much of the Imperial Armed Forces. In fact”—he spread his hands in front of him—“because I am your loyal subject, I’ll provide transportation services without charge to any member of the Corrino family, whether for official or personal business.”
Salvador seemed slightly mollified, reconsidering the situation.
Josef continued, “But you can’t force me to coddle my enemies, Sire. That spineless Manford Torondo and his fanatics destroyed my industrial shipyard at Thonaris and killed thousands of innocent workers. They even tried to assassinate me. And those reckless savages recently demonstrated their true colors here on Zimia. I believe they even killed your brother’s beloved, innocent daughter.”
Angry mutters rippled through the audience, but the tone was different. The madness of the rampage festival had frightened even those who gave lip service to the antitechnology movement.
Josef felt a hot flush on his cheeks. “Manford Torondo refuses to control his followers. He made no reparations for the enormous collateral damage he inflicted on my company. He hasn’t issued apologies to the families of the VenHold employees he slaughtered. Has he offered to pay for the destruction he caused on Zimia?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Until the Butlerian leader stops inciting his followers to violence, I have no choice but to deny my services to Butlerian-controlled worlds. It is my right.”
Roderick Corrino whispered into Salvador’s ear; Josef knew that with the recent death of his little girl, the Emperor’s brother was certainly no friend of the Half-Manford’s. Reverend Mother Dorotea stood near them, and she also spoke, probably taking the opposite point of view.
Finally Salvador muttered, “I grow impatient with this constant feuding among my subjects.”
Sounding oh-so-reasonable, Josef interrupted. “Then, Sire, command the Butlerians to stop the violence. Tell Manford Torondo to cease his inflammatory rhetoric and make reparations to those he has harmed. As you correctly pointed out, you are the Emperor. I am not – nor is he.” He could see that even the Emperor was afraid of the barbarians … and, alas, not afraid enough of Venport Holdings.
That would have to change.
Maybe if Josef stopped being so civilized, then Salvador would understand the strength VenHold represented as well. In fact, Josef was beginning to wonder about the relevance of the man on the Imperial throne. Salvador did little to lead, had insufficient military or political power, and was caught between two opposing forces.
Josef’s brow furrowed. Why did they need an Emperor at all? A man like Salvador simply got in the way.
