Chapter 72 (I now understand regret)
I now understand regret, loss, and sadness. These are all concepts—emotions—that previously eluded me, especially the emotion of love. Now I can fit them into a workable mental framework. For my progress in this, I owe a great deal to Gilbertus Albans.
— ERASMUS, Latter-Day Laboratory Journals
The robot reviewed the entirety of his existence, fast-forwarding down the centuries of the Synchronized Empire, how he had become unique among thinking machines, a true counterpoint to the overconfident Omnius. Erasmus had never stopped trying to understand … everything. He wanted to know the entire universe, and had a specific interest in humanity, in what it meant to be a fully conscious, fully functioning Homo sapiens.
But that was not a simple problem, and there wasn’t one clear solution. The complexity and volatility of humans unsettled him.
He had seen the extremities of human emotions, including irrational and self-destructive behavior, such as when Serena Butler had reacted so strongly to the simple death of her child; and those emotions also caused extremities of overconfidence and refusal to concede logical defeat — the humans had kept fighting the Jihad long after any rational being would have seen the futility. And yet they had won.
Erasmus realized that the study of their species would be an unending quest, and their quirks would require millennia to analyze. Even then, as the race evolved, he would have to reevaluate his theories.
Now, with Butlerians surrounding the Mentat School and his devoted ward their prisoner, Erasmus was discouraged to think that his noble and lofty quest might end here in such an ignominious way. He had become fascinated with Anna Corrino, but he still had much to learn from Gilbertus Albans.
Ever since founding the Mentat School, Gilbertus had been treading lightly around antitechnology sensibilities, careful to provoke no retaliation from the Butlerians. He bowed to them, compromised with them for too long, implicitly endorsing their fanaticism by his silence. Now he had brought the current situation on himself because of his stubborn sense of honor and personal belief system.
Erasmus still struggled to understand.
Meanwhile, behind the protective walls, the Mentat students continued to keep watch. They evaluated the school’s security measures, both from the lake side and the marshes and sangrove swamps; despite its defenses, the facility could not outlast the large Butlerian force. The faculty, students, and support staff had placed their confidence in the Headmaster’s ability to negotiate with, or at least outthink, Manford Torondo. Erasmus monitored the siege through his remote spy-eyes, but could find no escape either.
With Gilbertus gone, Administrator Zendur was ostensibly in charge of the school. As a Mentat, the middle-aged man was swift in his calculations and talented at making projections, but he was not a leader. Though a skilled graduate of the school, Zendur was clearly out of his depth.
Since Gilbertus had charged Anna Corrino with the safekeeping of the memory core, she concealed Erasmus in her private chambers. Even though the robot could communicate with her through the implanted transceiver, she loved to hold his gelsphere in her hands and cradle it like a precious object.
“I suspect they are going to kill Headmaster Albans,” she said, in an affectless voice that carried no fear at all. Erasmus knew that Anna’s emotions were anomalous and didn’t fit the pattern of the human norm. Earlier, she had been emotional, flighty, immature, and overreactive — that was why she’d been sent to the Sisterhood school on Rossak, where her impulsive consumption of poison had damaged her brain. On the other hand, that tragedy had turned her into such a remarkable specimen.
Even with her difficulty in expressing herself, Erasmus knew the young woman was disturbed by the plight of the Mentat School and its Headmaster. “I share your concern, Anna Corrino — I have run computer projections. Gilbertus will do his best to resolve the situation, but I believe the Butlerians will exact a terrible price on him.”
“I’m worried about him.”
Erasmus considered for a long moment, running the data again and again, and kept reaching the same conclusion. “I am worried about him, too.”
No matter what Gilbertus negotiated, even after the price was paid, Erasmus didn’t trust the Butlerians to keep their agreement. “Use your training and make your own projections. I have taught you how,” he said to her. “With the Headmaster gone, what is the school’s most valuable asset?”
She answered immediately. “You are.”
“Thank you for that,” Erasmus said. “But we must assume they don’t know about me. I rephrase the question: Other than myself, what is most important?”
Anna pondered, then spoke without any pride. “I am, of course.”
“Precisely. And the Butlerians will want that asset. Therefore, we need to keep you out of their hands.”
“I agree,” she said, and then her expression fell. “If they take me hostage, how can I possibly protect you? That is really the most important thing.”
Erasmus didn’t argue with her.
Anna had spent a significant amount of time on top of the defensive walls, studying the Butlerians, counting their campfires, their numbers, their weapons. Then she wandered into obsessive numeracy, counting how many people wore red in their garments, how many wore blue, how many wore brown. She counted the number of men and the number of women, as close as she could determine, though some muffled their features with hats and scarves. She provided the data to Zendur and the Mentat students for tactical planning, though the information was not necessarily useful.
Erasmus had observed. After going out to meet with the Butlerian leader, Gilbertus had been surrounded by their guards and taken into the main headquarters tent. From a distance, using his spy-eyes from trees in the swamp, the robot watched closely. He detected anger and uneasiness in the besieging army.
He didn’t trust the unruly followers. What if Manford couldn’t control his own fanatics? An uproar could turn into a lynch mob — it had happened before. From prior analysis, Erasmus had determined that the legless leader maintained control of his followers by allowing release of their anger and tensions under certain circumstances, and when he saw them reaching critical levels, he didn’t even try to control their emotions. If the Butlerians grew too outraged, Manford might need to ignore his promise and unleash them.
A flurry occurred in the camp as a rumor rippled among the followers. Erasmus recognized Anari Idaho, Manford’s stubbornly loyal but decidedly unimaginative bodyguard, stalking through the gathered fanatics. She led Gilbertus, obviously a prisoner, to another tent at the edge of the camp, where he was placed under heavy guard.
Analyzing the facial expressions acquired from high-resolution images, Erasmus determined that the fanatics were agitated and furious. Maybe Gilbertus had refused to strike a bargain with the Butlerian leader … or maybe it was something else.
Finally, at dusk, Manford approached the front gates of the school, riding on the shoulders of his Swordmaster. After sealing his memory core in a special hiding place in her quarters, Anna went to the battlements to watch, but Erasmus stayed with her anyway, speaking into her ear.
The Butlerian leader’s voice carried through the air, and all the listeners fell silent, barely breathing. Even the swamp insects fell into a hush.