Текст книги "Mentats of Dune"
Автор книги: Brian Herbert
Соавторы: Kevin Anderson
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 38 страниц)
Chapter 38 (Human imagination is a powerful thing)
Human imagination is a powerful thing. It can be a sanctuary from difficult times, a catalyst to change society, or the impetus to create marvelous works of art. On the other hand, an overabundance of imagination can inspire paranoia that impairs one’s ability to interact with reality.
– Suk School Manual, Psychological Studies
Erasmus said into Anna’s ear, “Do you like my voice? It should sound familiar.”
She paused, hesitated, then gasped. “Hirondo! My darling, is that you?”
The robot was pleased that he had matched it closely enough, and Anna Corrino’s imagination smoothed over any inaccuracies. The Mentat School had access to many records, but without large computer databases, Erasmus had experienced difficulty finding what he needed. Finally, he’d discovered a small report about the scandal at the Imperial Court in which a palace chef had disgraced the Emperor’s sister with their affair. The report had included no more than a snippet of audio – a panicked Hirondo protesting his innocence – which gave Erasmus little to work with. Also, the stress in the young man’s voice had changed the timbre. Erasmus did his best to adjust the pitch.
“I can be part of your memories of Hirondo.” Erasmus spoke in the false voice, trying to manufacture a soothing tone. “I will always be here, right beside you, inside your mind. I’ll never leave you … so you can tell me everything.”
Erasmus was going to enjoy this. And he actually found it … pleasing?… that she responded with such joy. After her ordeal with the sapho-unleashed memories, he found it fascinating to pretend to console her, as a necessary part of satisfying his own curiosity. He could learn many details of humanity from her, a different perspective from what he had learned from Gilbertus over many years, but the next step would be even better, a technological enhancement that would give him a closer, and permanent, connection with her.
The independent robot had spread his tendrils throughout the Mentat School complex, extending his reach even though he had no physical body. Thanks to the many thinking-machine specimens that had been stored in a sealed vault “for study,” Erasmus had raw materials for his use. Over a long, slow period, he had subtly utilized deactivated combat meks, along with isolated computer minds and automated devices, all of which he used to construct hundreds of miniature drone robots.
The first one was the size of a human hand; in turn, that device built a smaller machine, which then constructed an even smaller mechanism. Finally, the drone robots were able to use near-microscopic scraps to reproduce perfect miniaturized copies of themselves. With very little computing power, the drones merely followed the guidance Erasmus transmitted, and they did amazing work threading conduits throughout the buildings, implanting spy-eyes, diverting power and expanding invisible power grids, even dropping tracers onto insects and swamp creatures so that his observation network expanded into the tangled sangroves.
His masterpiece was a tiny implanted device, a new spy-eye and listening device, a tiny silver robot the size of Anna’s smallest fingertip. It didn’t look like a robot at all, but a beautiful insect.
Talking to her through the minuscule speakerpatches near her bed, he explained, “This is my special companion, Anna. It will snuggle inside your ear canal and let us communicate whenever you need to hear from me.”
Trusting him completely, she placed the small silver robot next to her ear, and the insectlike machine crawled inside to where it could touch her auditory nerve and transmit signals. Erasmus wished he could read her thoughts, but this was the next best thing.
“I knew you’d come back to me, Hirondo,” she said, sighing.
“I have always lived within you,” he answered, not wanting to disillusion her. “And now we can be together always. I am your closest, most loyal friend – don’t ever forget that.” He realized that, even though this was all just a grand experiment, the statement might be true – Anna had no other close friends.
Erasmus worried that she would speak aloud to him as she mingled with the Mentat students. But Anna Corrino was already considered odd, and her quiet mutterings would only enhance that impression.
The young woman walked along the corridors and across walkways to the observation deck and looked out at the sangrove thickets that made the near lakeshore an impenetrable maze. “When you’re this close to me, Hirondo, I love you even more. We can remember things together, plan for our future together.”
Erasmus was surprised, but pleased. Love. The human emotion had always eluded him, despite his many attempts to understand its complexities. He and Gilbertus had a relationship of mutual affection in which the human called him “Father,” but that was quite different from the feelings Anna still had for her lost lover. Now Erasmus would have the opportunity to explore the emotion much more closely.
Several nights ago, while spying through the cleverly concealed surveillance system, Erasmus had watched with great interest when Draigo Roget presented his case to Gilbertus. Draigo was like a prodigal son returning home, but it was Gilbertus who had gone astray.…
After the lynching of former machine sympathizers, Erasmus thought Gilbertus might be wise to flee while he was still able to do so. Draigo would make sure the two of them were welcomed among like-minded people. Erasmus feared that the Headmaster could not keep up the façade much longer. But Gilbertus wouldn’t leave his precious school. He seemed to care more for the institution than for his own life.
Whenever the Mentat School celebrated the anniversary of its founding, some students looked back at the records and found images of Headmaster Gilbertus some seventy years earlier – and the head of the school had changed far too little in all that time. Even unobservant humans could detect that, though no one had mentioned it yet. Eventually someone would ask more questions. Erasmus needed to find a way out, long before that happened.…
On the observation platform, Anna began to hum a tune that she said Lady Orenna had sung to her, but Erasmus’s attention was suddenly diverted, jarring him away from his conversation with Anna. Inside the Headmaster’s office, Gilbertus had just removed the memory core from its hidden storage.
Rather than dividing his focus, the robot whispered to Anna through the tiny device in her ear. “I’m going to be quiet for a while so that we can enjoy each other’s company, but I won’t leave you, my darling. I’ll never leave you, I promise.”
Through a spy-eye, Erasmus saw Anna smile as she stared out at the swamps. Then he shunted his awareness to the Headmaster’s office.
* * *
GILBERTUS STARED AT the exposed gelsphere and its faint glow. During his years on Corrin, he’d been able to watch the robot’s flowmetal face. Although Erasmus had never been good at mimicking human expressions, Gilbertus could at least interpret his mentor’s mood (though the robot insisted that he had no “moods”).
“I’ve noticed recent changes in the behavior of Anna Corrino,” Gilbertus said. “She talks to herself and smiles more often – something is different about her.”
“I did that,” Erasmus said. “She’s a bright subject, but I’ve nudged her, guided her thoughts. One day, I even gave her sapho.”
The Headmaster hesitated as he processed this revelation. “Sapho? I kept those samples locked in the medical dispensary.”
“I had her remove one vial for an important experiment. Her response was enlightening, and I learned much about her past and her emotions.”
“You shouldn’t have done that. Did you harm her mind?”
“Of course not. The sapho enhanced her memories and allowed her to talk about difficult events that she had repressed. It was therapeutic, I’m sure. You saw yourself that Anna is happier, talks more. Sapho helped unlock her mind.”
“Please don’t give her any more.” Gilbertus sat down at his desk, deciding to put the other sapho samples under tighter security to keep the robot away from them.
Erasmus said, “Why don’t you use the remaining samples on other students? Study the effects. The drug enhances focus, which would be beneficial to Mentats.”
“They can achieve that through the mental disciplines I teach.”
“But sapho could create an even more intense focus. You should experiment with it.”
“One day, perhaps. Right now it is critically important that I can give a favorable report about Anna’s improvement to Roderick and Salvador Corrino. I want her cured – I want her normal.” Gilbertus knew that if Anna Corrino’s mind could be repaired, his school would forever receive the blessing – and protection – of House Corrino.
The robot remained silent for a long moment, then said, “I know how to cure her, but I have no intention of doing so. If she were to become normal, she would be far less interesting to me. I enjoy her as she is.”
Gilbertus leaned closer to the exposed memory core. “But curing her has been our priority with her from the beginning.”
The simulated voice was erudite and distant, exactly as it had been when Erasmus conducted his experiments with hundreds of human slaves at a time. “Your priority, perhaps, my son – but I see her as my very special laboratory subject, a unique window into the human mind such as I’ve never had before. Since I still have no physical body, I am unable to perform other experiments to satisfy my curiosity. I am left to conduct experiments that are within my capabilities.”
Gilbertus flared his nostrils. “Anna is far more than a laboratory subject. We want her cured, and we need to keep her safe.”
“At one time you were just my laboratory subject, but look at what you have achieved, thanks to me.”
“Yes, and I could lose it all if we make a mistake and let them glimpse who we are. The Butlerians could easily retaliate against some imagined slight. Draigo Roget’s visit affected me deeply, and I … I have always known my position is incorrect.” He paused, feeling uncomfortable to admit that. “Manford isn’t convinced that I am his ally. And I worry constantly about Anna Corrino’s safety, for fear of provoking the wrath of her powerful brothers. This school has defenses, but not nearly enough to fend off an assault by Imperial military forces.”
“I have suggested many times that we should vanish and start a new life.” Erasmus paused. “And I would like to take Anna with us.”
“We’d be hunted all over the Imperium.”
Using his spy-eyes throughout the room, Erasmus assessed the flicker of emotions on Gilbertus’s face, how he frowned, how his eyes flicked back and forth. The robot drew an obvious conclusion. “You resent how much attention I devote to Anna Corrino.”
“That’s not true,” Gilbertus said, too quickly.
Erasmus manufactured a chuckle. “Your reflexive response indicates otherwise. I watch Anna, and I converse with her. I keep track of everything she does.”
“I am not jealous, Father. Merely viewing the larger picture. We have to—”
The memory core suddenly interrupted him, blaring his words loud enough to stress his urgency. “Anna Corrino is in need of rescue. Summon your most physically capable Mentat trainees – we must save her.”
Gilbertus erupted from his desk. “Rescue? What has she done?”
“She ventured out into the dangerous swamps, unchaperoned. She is all alone out there.” The robot’s voice sounded genuinely concerned.
“Why would she do that?” Frantic to get out into the hall, the Headmaster began to shut down the security systems that safeguarded his main office. “She could be killed!”
“It is consistent with her previous patterns of behavior. She knows that her fellow trainees test themselves in the swamps. Remember that Anna Corrino consumed poison at the Rossak School because other Sister trainees did so.” As Gilbertus rushed to hide the memory core in its cabinet, Erasmus said, “My spy-eyes are widely scattered out in the swamp, but I can still see her. She has made her way deep into the sangrove thickets. I should have been monitoring her more closely. Anna Corrino cannot possibly survive out there for long.”
“I’ll send rescue teams.” Gilbertus locked away the robot core, then burst out of his office, sounding the alarm.
* * *
THE SANGROVE BRANCHES were sharp, the curved roots like knobby knees, and the bark smooth and slippery, but Anna wove her way along like a human darning needle. It was challenging and gratifying. She didn’t miss a step.
Bugs swarmed around her, some biting, others just flying in her face. Subconsciously, she counted and categorized the insects; she watched their drunken paths in the air and computed imaginary flight patterns for them. The bugs dipped and dodged aimlessly.
She worked her way through the thickets, ducking under branches, parting hairy strands of moss that dangled from above. These swamps reminded her of the fogwood tree back at the palace, Anna’s beloved sanctuary – a place where only she could go. She used her mind as she touched the sangrove roots and trunks, but these swamp trees were deaf and stupid; they didn’t respond to her thoughts as the special fogwood did.
She made her way through the thick network of roots, carefully balancing above the standing water, memorizing each step she took as well as every false path and dead end. It was simple enough to assemble her explorations into a map in her mind. When she finished, she would retrace her way to the Mentat School, and from then on she could move without additional complications.
She slipped on a smear of moss, but caught herself and breathed in a careful rhythm to restore her calm. The water beneath the sangrove roots wasn’t deep, but she saw flashes of silver like swimming shards of glass. The channels were infested by razorjaws that would devour anything that fell into the water. When Anna’s movements disturbed a nest of amphibious hoppers that leaped for other branches, some of them plopped into the water – which became a boiling fury as razorjaws devoured them.
Another person might have been frightened by the danger, but Anna wasn’t worried. As long as she didn’t fall from the roots, she had nothing to fear; therefore, she decided not to fall.
The reassuring voice of her friend reappeared in her ear. “Anna, it’s time for you to return to the Mentat School.”
“Not yet. I’m still exploring.”
“I admire that you are a seeker of knowledge.” The voice sounded like Hirondo, but she had eventually realized it wasn’t truly him. This was her secret friend on Lampadas, someone much more faithful than Hirondo. “The Headmaster is concerned about you, Anna. The Mentats are searching now. They’re coming close – you’ll hear their voices soon. Respond to them. Help them find you.”
She listened. For a moment, she could discern nothing more than the thrum of insects and faint ripples in the water, but then she heard distant shouts as Mentats worked their way through the sangroves.
“They shouldn’t come out here,” she said. “It’s dangerous for them.”
“They believe it’s also dangerous for you.”
“Then tell them I’m all right,” she said.
The voice chuckled in a strange way. “I can’t talk to anyone else the way I talk with you. And I … worry about you being alone here.”
The shouts grew louder. Anna realized that the searchers were risking their lives to rescue her, even though she hadn’t asked them to. She didn’t want them to die. She let out a sigh. “You’re right. Roderick always told me to think of other people. I’m not a selfish person.”
“No, you’re not,” the voice agreed, and that made her feel good.
Remembering the precise safe path to take, avoiding her previous missteps and false starts, Anna darted through the sangroves, working her way back to muddy but more solid ground, where Mentat searchers could find her.
When they spotted her, they pushed forward with a surge of energy. One trainee slipped on a sangrove root, but nearby Mentats pulled him back up as the razorjaws swirled, snapping at their missed meal.
“I am here,” Anna called as she made her way to the searchers, moving with more grace than they did. “I am safe.”
Inside her ear, the friendly voice said, “And I intend to keep you safe for a long time.”
Chapter 39 (Every grain of sand in the desert is different)
Every grain of sand in the desert is different, just as every planet in the Imperium is unique. But the more I see of offworld settlements, the more they look the same to me, like grains of sand.
– TAREF, “A Lament for Shurko”
On his first arrival at the EsconTran spacedocks, fully trained for his new mission, in disguise and with a false ID, Taref quickly found employment as an interim worker on a planet called Junction Alpha. He had never heard of it before. Junction Alpha was not one of the worlds that evoked exotic images, such as Salusa Secundus did, or the glittering former machine stronghold of Corrin … or Poritrin, from which the Zensunni had escaped their slavery. There was no grandeur on Junction Alpha, just noise, smells, hard work, and no more satisfaction than he’d felt on Arrakis. Compared to his dreams, the young man found the rest of the Imperium rather disappointing. Junction Alpha was just a different kind of desert.
With his new background from Venport Holdings, Taref understood just how much wealth the spice operations generated – and by rights that wealth should belong to the free people of the desert, rather than to some offworld company. Instead, the Freemen chose to live like beetles under rocks, casting their gazes backward and not even trying to see the path ahead.
Taref and his friends had grown up cocky and aloof. They summoned sandworms to ride across the desert and returned to the sietch whenever they felt like it, surviving on their own, sabotaging the intrusive spice harvesters whenever possible. They had thought themselves wise in the ways of life – until the VenHold Mentat made his intriguing offer.…
At least now, each new planet Taref visited – even the dirty, noisy, industrial worlds – showed him how ignorant and naïve he had been all his life. In the desert, he had believed he knew everything important, but upon leaving Arrakis he had been overwhelmed by the breadth of subjects about which he knew nothing. He could never learn them all, even if he spent a lifetime trying. The horizon of wisdom was far, far beyond his reach.
At Junction Alpha, he had worked in the shipyards, keeping his eyes open for the right opportunity, as Draigo had instructed him. His first contract sabotage job had been the most difficult – not mechanically or technically, but because he was nervous, convinced that someone would realize his job skills were minimal. The entire Escon company was in turmoil, however. People whispered whenever ships disappeared … and EsconTran ships disappeared far too often.
Junction Alpha was a stopping-over planet, and many of the through-passengers were Butlerians. Taref had learned that their legless leader drove them into wild rampages. According to Josef Venport’s vehement speech, Manford Torondo was the greatest enemy of civilization, the most dangerous man alive. Any VenHold operative had unofficial instructions to kill him on sight, should the opportunity arise.
On Junction Alpha, Taref had altered the fuel flow in a large cargo ship and adjusted the feedback loop on a passenger craft filled with Butlerian pilgrims. The first vessel flew off and vanished somewhere in deep space. The pilgrim transport exploded in-system moments before the engines folded space. EsconTran couldn’t hide that loss, and it was a dramatic embarrassment for the company. Since little wreckage remained, no investigator could determine that sabotage was the cause.
Taref had seen some of those fanatics board the ships, and he knew their bodies were now scattered across space. His sabotage was no longer theoretical, and a ship full of passengers had died because of his activities. He decided it wasn’t his place to question.
Working alone gave him time to miss Lillis, Shurko, Bentur, Waddoch, and Chumel. After finishing their training, his friends had been separated and dispatched far away to work on spacedocks or at commercial spaceports where they could intercept EsconTran ships and complete their acts of sabotage.
After his third sabotage, Taref decided he needed to report to Kolhar. So, when the next VenHold ship arrived at Junction Alpha, he resigned from his work at the spacedocks, a common occurrence. Workers came and went quickly; for most, this was never expected to be a long-term job. Taref used one of his numerous disguises, with a corresponding ID card, and transferred to the VenHold ship.
On Kolhar, he reported to the admin-tower to make his report to the Directeur. The young desert man had never met Josef Venport face-to-face, and the industrialist was an intimidating presence. Taref averted his eyes out of respect as he described his missions.
Draigo was present, remaining cool. Venport seemed happy with Taref’s work, particularly the pilgrim ship that had exploded in full view of everyone. But beyond the Directeur’s satisfaction and delight Taref saw a steely anger toward his competitor simmering just beneath the surface.
“Not only did your efforts remove an enemy ship, they also demonstrated how lax Escon safety is.” A smile crept up beneath his thick mustache. “As an added benefit, we got rid of several hundred fanatics. You don’t feel guilty about having blood on your hands, do you, young man?”
“In the desert we are no strangers to death.”
“My Mentat assured me that you and your companions are not cowards. So far, your success rate has been commendable, with sixteen clean sabotages and only one loss of an operative.”
Taref’s head snapped up, suddenly worried. “Someone has been lost, sir?”
“Yes. One of your confederates was manipulating a navigation system, rigging a ship to become lost in the void, but somehow he got assigned aboard the ship as a replacement crewmember at the last minute. He couldn’t transfer away without exposing the entire scheme, so he disappeared along with the vessel. Good man. Did his duty.”
Taref’s throat went dry. “Who was it?”
Venport frowned down at his desk as if searching for papers. The Mentat, standing at attention, said, “Shurko. One of the young men who came with you from Arrakis.”
A chill invaded Taref’s heart. Shurko, the one who hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. Taref had wanted to show him the seas of Caladan, but now that imagined reward felt empty. He struggled to keep his voice firm. “So Shurko is dead? The loss of the ship is confirmed?”
“Yes, a major blow to EsconTran,” Venport said, as if that made up for Shurko’s death.
“Shurko,” Taref whispered. He longed to see the rest of his companions, especially Lillis; they had so much to talk about, so many stories to share. And now Shurko … Maybe he should not have convinced his friends to come here with him. Maybe he should not have come himself.
Draigo said in an irritating monotone, “We have a new mission for you, Taref. Not in another Escon shipyard, but on Arrakis.”
Distracted by his own thoughts, Taref wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. “Arrakis? Why would you want me to go back there?”
Shurko would have wanted to return in a moment … but now he was dead, vanished out in space.
Directeur Venport tapped his fingertips on the desk surface. “You must have been glad to be rescued from that place. I hope you don’t mind returning.”
“I will return there if you command it,” Taref said, though he felt reluctant. “What is it you need?”
“We’re so pleased with your performance that we would like to recruit more Freemen. We want you to speak to the tribes on our behalf and present our offer. Find others who would like to join you in your work.” The Directeur smiled. “I’m sure you can find young people eager to leave that dust pit. Aren’t you glad you left yourself?”
Taref hesitated. Being away from Arrakis had opened his eyes, but many of his people would never imagine leaving the desert. If Shurko had stayed behind, he would have spent his entire life in the sietch, never straying from the desert, except maybe to Arrakis City on occasion. It would have been a small and unremarkable life, but a much longer one.
“I will ask them,” Taref said, then admitted, “It will be good to feel sand beneath my feet again.”
Standing beside the Directeur’s desk, the Mentat touched his earadio, listened, and his normally flat expression broke into a broad smile. Josef Venport raised his bushy eyebrows, waiting for the report.
“Good news from the planet Baridge, Directeur,” Draigo said. “The people have capitulated. They say they will tear up the Butlerian pledge if we trade with them again.”
