Текст книги "Mentats of Dune"

Автор книги: Brian Herbert

Соавторы: Kevin Anderson
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Текущая страница: 38 (всего у книги 38 страниц)

This was an uncertain time. Valya knew that the Sisters – including those loyal to Dorotea – had excellent sources of information, and she decided she would take time to learn the details, analyzing Roderick’s motivations and the alliances hidden in the politics. As Mother Superior, she had to understand the entire tapestry if her Sisters were to pull the right strings. Once she had all the new information, she would see that loyal Sisters were assigned to important houses in the Landsraad, where they would advise nobles, while knowing the overall plan that Mother Superior Valya would develop.…

After the coronation, an endless reception line formed. The procession had been organized in advance, yet it still seemed chaotic. Standing formally, and patiently, the new Emperor greeted hundreds of dignitaries, including the Sisters, who flowed forward like a flock of black birds.

Valya stood at the front, as a Mother Superior should. With a formal bow, she introduced herself, not sure that Roderick Corrino would know who she was, even though she had previously visited the court. And he might not know that she had taken his sister under her wing at the Rossak School.

“I am Mother Superior Valya, ranking member of the Sisterhood after the death of Mother Superior Raquella. My Sisters are here to serve you, Sire. I will travel regularly between Wallach IX and Salusa Secundus to coordinate matters.”

He seemed puzzled. “Where is my Truthsayer Dorotea?”

Valya bowed, avoiding his gaze. “I am sorry to report that she died on Wallach IX of a self-inflicted wound. We will provide the Truthsayer you need, more than one if you require. We will strive to make your reign as strong as possible. In our unified Sisterhood, you have an even greater ally than you did before.”

Roderick hung on to his silence for a moment, then said, “As my investigations continue into my brother’s disappearance, I may have need of many Truthsayers.”

Valya nodded and moved along as the rest of the Sisters gave their congratulations. She felt strong, satisfied, and confident that she would be remembered by future generations – not only by the Sisterhood but by House Harkonnen.

Using her rapidly increasing influence, she would open doors in the Landsraad for the Harkonnens to pass through. Perhaps the Emperor could find a position for her brother Danvis.

And one day, she thought, there may even be a Harkonnen Emperor.

Chapter 81 (Murder is murder)

Murder is murder, no matter the justification.

– NORMA CENVA

Killing an Emperor was no small thing.

During the flight from Kolhar to Salusa Secundus – a respectful time after the coronation, as commanded – Josef Venport explained his actions to Norma Cenva.

She had helped him eliminate the Imperial Barge at Arrakis, because he told her it was necessary, but he wasn’t confident that she fully comprehended his rationale for doing so. Her thoughts and concerns were vastly distant from the realities Josef had to deal with. Now, however, he needed her to focus on the crisis and grasp the importance of the political course he had mapped out for the Imperium.

With Roderick as the new Emperor, a rational man who was already predisposed to despise the Half-Manford and his barbarians, they no longer needed to fear the looming dark ages.

On the Navigator deck in front of the broad observation windows that offered a view of the entire universe, he spoke with his great-grandmother even as she folded space and moved the ship from Kolhar. She floated inside her tank full of swirling orange gas, but he couldn’t tell whether she was listening.

After the aurora-light display around the ship ceased and they settled back into normal space in the Salusan star system, he repeated his last few sentences, until Norma cut him off. “I heard and absorbed all data.” Her voice sounded tinny across the tank’s speaker system. “I am ancient, but aware.”

She could help him save the Imperium now. The dangerously incompetent Salvador and his entourage had vanished down the gullet of a sandworm; no trace remained of the spice operation, and the Imperial Barge was lost in the vastness of space, due to Taref’s sabotage. Now that Roderick Corrino had been crowned, human civilization had a chance to survive the dark forces of ignorance, so long as he worked with Josef. The grim future Norma had foreseen no longer needed to come to pass.

“It only stands to reason—” he began again, then caught himself with a dark chuckle. “Reason! The Imperium needs more of that. We can now assure a renaissance instead of cultural darkness.” He smiled with relief and optimism.

Through the swirling orange gas he saw her tiny mouth form into a barely perceptible smile. “That would be preferable … but not assured.”

He paced in front of her large tank. “I will assure it, Grandmother. Roderick Corrino understands the interconnected ties of commerce, the business of governing vast populations, the need for trade instead of superstition. He and I need to meet in private to find a mutually viable path out of the mess Salvador created.”

“The Emperor might consider you part of that mess. He did not invite you to the coronation.”

Josef frowned. It disturbed him that he had not been on the guest list for the grand coronation, but Manford Torondo had also been kept away. Perhaps the new Emperor wanted to appear neutral until he consolidated his power. Josef realized he might have pushed too hard and too quickly. He assumed Roderick would be anxious to disband the fanatical Butlerians, just as Salvador had broken up the Rossak Sisterhood.

On this trip, accompanied by Norma Cenva, he would seek to heal wounds and begin the important work of moving the Imperium forward.

She drifted in her tank as the spacefolder entered orbit and slid in among the space traffic. “The immediate future is elusive,” she said, “but I foresee great turbulence.”

His tone was dismissive. “Roderick Corrino is a man who makes well-considered decisions, and we have the same goals. Together, we will control the barbarians and defeat the Half-Manford.”

Norma’s detachable tank moved on suspensors, and she accompanied him to the VenHold shuttle. As the craft descended, Josef gazed at the lush greenery, lakes, and snow-kissed mountains below. Salusa Secundus was one of the loveliest worlds in the Imperium. Even so, he preferred industrial Kolhar, which made him think of a bright and efficient future.

Since he was the Directeur of Venport Holdings, Josef secured a prime landing spot. The moment he stepped from the craft, with Norma’s large tank floating behind him, he heard a roar of crowd noises and amplified music coming from the city. The postcoronation celebrations continued, even several days afterward.

The manicured grounds of the Imperial Palace and the associated Landsraad Hall, along with the various bureaucratic ministries and office buildings, took up more area than the rest of the capital city. Approaching the palace proper, he and Norma stopped at a security gate, where they were subjected to scanners that confirmed their identities. Moments later they were escorted into the palace by a contingent of guards, who remained with them. They were told to wait in an anteroom outside the Imperial Audience Chamber.

Following the coronation, Emperor Roderick had filled his schedule with meetings as Landsraad representatives, planetary interests, and businesses all tried to earn his favor. Josef’s appointment had been swept into that chaos, but he had enough clout, and spread enough bribes ahead of time, to secure a prominent slot in Roderick’s calendar. Yet even Directeur Venport had to wait.

When his time finally arrived, an hour overdue, Josef passed through the large central doors, his shoulders squared and chin held high. Norma accompanied him in her suspensor-borne tank, drawing wide-eyed stares and murmurs of awe. A dozen Imperial guards followed close behind them.

Josef looked up at Roderick Corrino on the green-crystal throne, with his thick blond hair and patrician features. If only that man had been born before his brother, the history of the Imperium would have taken a vastly different turn. Finally, after thirteen years of a false course and destructive distractions under Salvador’s rule, human civilization could achieve the greatness it deserved. Back on track. Populations could be free from the tyranny of extremes – both the tyranny of thinking machines and the tyranny of the Butlerians’ irrational fear. Feeling great hope now, he couldn’t keep from smiling as he stepped up to the dais.

“Emperor Roderick Corrino, I come to congratulate you and swear my allegiance. I look forward to many great goals that the Imperial throne and Venport Holdings can achieve together.” Perhaps he smiled too much.

Roderick looked awkward on the throne. His expression showed no warmth. “Salvador may yet return, Directeur. My brother’s fate is still a mystery, and our investigation continues. I have Truthsayers to assist me in finding answers.”

Josef felt the chill in the air. Did Roderick suspect him of something? Cioba had told him about the skills of the Sisterhood’s Truthsayers. He had been so careful to leave no evidence, but if a Truthsayer were to interrogate him about Salvador’s disappearance, he doubted even Norma could help him.

He responded with carefully chosen words. “We all want the truth about our beloved Emperor, Sire.” He drew a breath. “But the Imperium is far larger than any one man, and your responsibilities now extend across hundreds of worlds, and countless trillions of people who are your loyal subjects – including myself. I am here to assist you in any way you deem fit.”

From her tank, Norma’s voice resonated, startling the audience in the chamber. “The spice is essential. Operations on Arrakis must continue unhindered. Our Navigators require melange.”

Josef was glad for the distraction. “Sire, we should discuss certain spice operations on Arrakis, Imperial interactions with Combined Mercantiles. Your brother asserted a claim to the entire industry, but the implementation of such an idea is complex and, frankly, impractical. It would needlessly disrupt spice commerce across the Imperium to the many who depend on it for health and vitality. We should proceed with caution so as not to cause any unnecessary turmoil.” He bowed his head slightly in deference. “Of course, in this and in all matters, I seek your Imperial wisdom.”

Months ago, Draigo Roget had estimated the number of people addicted to melange to be in the billions, and Josef had not waited quietly while Salvador made his clumsy claims. He had already armed most of his VenHold ships, and was ready to put battleships in place around Arrakis, should it come to a direct showdown against the Imperial Armed Forces. Roderick Corrino would have his spies, but VenHold had numerous hidden resources of its own. Josef would have more than enough force to defend both Arrakis and Kolhar, but that was not the outcome he desired. He hoped the new Emperor would become his partner, rather than a hindrance.

Roderick remained silent as he pondered, then finally spoke. “Directeur Venport, the Imperium needs to prosper, but there is much more we need to accomplish. My father and grandfather helped form this Imperium after the Battle of Corrin, and now I want to ensure that we lay a stable moral and commercial foundation for future generations.” His expression softened and he already looked weary of all the problems. “With the resources and cooperation of Venport Holdings, it is possible for us to achieve that prosperity together. I believe we have a mutual vision.”

“I concur, Sire. We should focus on building rather than destroying. We must choose hope over fear. To that end, I beg you to consider strenuous efforts to control Manford Torondo and his dangerous Butlerian fanatics. On Baridge, they destroyed one of my ships, its cargo, crew, and a priceless Navigator. Here in Zimia, they killed your poor daughter and countless others, burned parts of the city. Emperor Salvador may have let them run unchecked, but you—”

The sounds of turmoil among the audience – mutters of agreement and disagreement – grew loud.

Roderick looked gray and angry. He leaned forward. “I am well aware of that, Directeur Venport. I agree that something must be done.”

To hide his elation, Josef bowed his head and pretended to be meek. “If there is any way that Venport Holdings can help, Sire, we—”

A courier burst into the Audience Chamber, rushing toward the throne. Imperial guards braced themselves to stop the intruder, then touched earadios, listened to urgent announcements, and let him pass.

Josef looked around, wondering what was happening. Norma Cenva drifted in her tank, and her face came closer to the transparent walls. Her words emerged from the speakerpatch, addressing Josef, although others nearby could hear. “The Imperial Barge just returned, battered, but intact. They were lost in foldspace, but the pilot was talented and desperate. He managed to bring the barge back home, and the surviving crew just broadcast an urgent message.”

The courier bounded up the steps to the throne, gasping, and spoke to Emperor Roderick.

Josef felt as if an executioner’s blade were swinging down toward him. The barge was intact? Then the witnesses were alive! Taref had failed to properly sabotage the emergency Holtzman engines.

The Imperial crew knew that Josef had betrayed and murdered Salvador, and the barge itself had barely escaped from the attacking VenHold ships around Arrakis. If they had somehow survived and returned, they would tell the new Emperor that Josef Venport had caused it all.

He turned to Norma in her tank, whispering, “We are ruined!”

Even before the courier finished his breathless message, Roderick Corrino rose from the throne, his face filled with sickened fury. “You, Directeur Venport! You assassinated my brother!”

He shouted for the guards, who raced forward, drawing their weapons. Josef was surrounded by them and by hundreds of audience members. They would tear him apart. He saw no way to escape.

“This is not a scenario I foresaw,” Norma Cenva said. “Once again, I must rescue you.”

Josef felt a tingle, and the Audience Chamber around him blurred and crackled. With a pop of displaced air, Norma folded space around them and whisked her own tank and Josef Venport away.

Chapter 82 (When studying history)

When studying history, spectacular failures can provide great inspiration to improve.

– ERASMUS, Latter-Day Laboratory Journals

When the spacefolder carrying Draigo Roget’s ship arrived at Denali, Erasmus finally let himself believe they were safe. Their circumstances had dramatically improved, and he was intrigued by all the new experiences that awaited him and Anna Corrino.

But that was small consolation for the loss of Gilbertus, and very probably the end of the Mentat School; the teachings would either be banned or drastically altered by the foolish Butlerians. He still experienced great confusion, a turmoil in his thought processes that was completely unfamiliar to him. For centuries he had strived to understand emotions, but now that he had a better grasp, the independent robot found that he didn’t like them at all.

Erasmus felt deeply disturbed. He thought back to the day before, when Draigo’s scout ship had raced to the covert spacefolder in orbit over Lampadas. Even from there, the robot had continued to observe through his linked network of spy-eyes, but without his usual analytical detachment. He’d felt unsettled curiosity as he watched his dedicated ward kneel down amidst the jeering barbarians, in full view of the Mentat school. This sense of loss was not strictly quantifiable.

Erasmus had rescued the young man from slave pens on Corrin, mentoring Gilbertus and treating him exceptionally well. He had changed the slave boy’s life, and his own. Both had grown from the experience.

And it had all culminated in the horrific scene on Lampadas. Surrounded by rabid Butlerians, Gilbertus had bowed his head and closed his eyes. Interestingly, his expression had been filled with remarkable contentment, enviable peace. A smile had even curled his lips at the last moment. Erasmus did not understand.

Then the Swordmaster had lopped off his head, extinguishing a fine and efficient mind.

Upon seeing the death of his student, his protector, and his friend, a jolt had gone through the robot’s gelcircuitry – a blinding flash that made him unable to process for a moment. In what seemed like an eternity, everything changed for Erasmus, as if the fundamental laws of reality had become different. He had not expected this at all.

Erasmus had seen countless humans die in the centuries of his life, many of them at his own hands, but he had never previously felt anything similar to this. Gilbertus was gone! The companion who had been such an interesting debater, such an avid learner, such a … such a caring, protective friend. Gone. Dead. Murdered! This could not be repaired. Gilbertus could not be replaced. Erasmus had never before experienced such a sharp, painful loss.

Something shifted in his malleable programming. Erasmus could not be cool and objective; rather, he felt dismay, disgust, and anger. And then with a cascade of realizations, data linking to data, he had another epiphany, a completely unexpected insight, another breathless revelation. He had an answer that he had been trying to find for more than two centuries.

Was this what had driven Serena Butler into such an irrational, hateful rage when he threw her noisy, crying child off a balcony? Incandescent, helpless rage and loss? Now he thought he grasped what had produced her immediate blind reaction. It all made sense in a way that it never had before. He understood the spark that had ignited the Jihad, with all of its tremendous consequences.

Gilbertus was gone. The Butlerians had killed him. His mind surged with countless reactions, all of them dark, violent, vengeful.

And now he brought those feelings with him to Denali.

Although Erasmus kept track of the different factions of humanity, especially the machine sympathizers and antitechnology fanatics, he now experienced actual loathing and hatred toward the people who had harmed the human who had become the equivalent of a son to him.

Yes. From all of his studies, that must be the sensation he was experiencing. Hatred. Along with unquantifiable sadness at watching the blood spill out and Gilbertus’s headless body collapse to the ground.

Erasmus despised Manford Torondo. Erasmus grieved for Gilbertus, who had given his life to preserve his beloved school. Those violent savages had destroyed it all. Erasmus felt strong resentment at the unfairness of the situation. Unfairness. These new thoughts and emotions were fascinating to him, and quite unpleasant. They threatened to overwhelm his circuitry.

Gilbertus was dead! And the robot decided he would have to do something about that.…

Draigo Roget and Anna Corrino were tense and frightened as they descended to cloud-swirled Denali. Sitting on the edge of a passenger bench, Anna removed her package with the robot’s core, unfolded the wrappings, and showed the gelsphere to Draigo. After measuring the Mentat’s expression, Erasmus could tell that Draigo was awed and intrigued.

The Mentat said, “Anna, I’m taking you and the robot to a safe haven, away from politics and fanatics. Directeur Venport established this place as a refuge where the greatest minds could create the best defenses to save civilization. These researchers will find the robot’s memory core infinitely fascinating.”

Erasmus spoke into the transceiver hidden in Anna’s ear, and she repeated his words aloud. “Erasmus is confident that we will find the Denali research center just as fascinating as they find him.”

“This is not a pleasant world,” Draigo cautioned, “quite unlike the Imperial capital on Salusa. And dangerous, with a poisonous atmosphere – you can’t go outside the domes without special protective gear.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, “as long as I can stay with Erasmus.”

During their journey, the robot had reviewed his stored memories of Gilbertus Albans, and had made projections of his growing friendship with Anna Corrino. Yes, he cared for her, as well. He would be greatly angered and saddened if she were to die, too.

He also analyzed his undeniable fury toward the Butlerians, a genuine sense of raw outrage. It was fascinating to channel his thoughts in new and untried pathways, human pathways. He had urged Gilbertus to leave Lampadas well before the Butlerian menace grew out of hand. Now he could only think of going back there to destroy the fanatics in their nest.

That would require some planning.…

Draigo piloted the craft down toward a complex of domed buildings. Although the equipment inside this vessel was primitive by thinking-machine standards, the robot could still use it, so he accessed the ship’s sensors, and scanned the poisonous vapors until he discerned the laboratory complex and habitation modules. Down there, the domes were filled with rational objective scientists who hated the barbarians as much as Erasmus did – and he would find them useful.

There were many new possibilities. Maybe the Denali scientists could even create a new body for him. Surely they had the resources. He would convince Anna Corrino to speak on his behalf, and then his situation would improve a great deal. Yes, many things could soon change.

When the ship settled onto the landing zone outside the reconstructed hangar dome, Erasmus was overjoyed to see the welcoming party that emerged to meet them. Anna Corrino pressed close to a side windowport, peering at the movement through the murky air.

Four cymek walkers strode toward the shuttle, armored warrior forms like giant mechanical crabs, with pistons pumping and strong legs driving them forward. They were powerful, ominous, threatening – absolutely wonderful!

Erasmus hadn’t seen cymeks for a long time, and these appeared to be new and efficient.

The most fearsome one spoke. “I am Ptolemy, head of the new Titan project. Welcome to Denali.” Half a dozen more cymek forms emerged from the swirling, poisonous mists. “We are preparing an army.”

Erasmus scanned the giant mechanical forms and realized he looked forward to what this place had to offer. If he, the cymeks, and sympathetic humans worked together, they could accomplish great things.