He was astonished when, out of the underbrush, Anna Corrino approached him, as if she expected to find him there. “You are Draigo Roget.” She seemed to be reciting a file. “You trained for five years at the Mentat School, and scored higher than any other Mentat candidate. You graduated and were released. You are allied with Venport Holdings. No one at the school knew the identity of your benefactor until you were later encountered at the Thonaris shipyards.”
After listening to the young woman rattle off the résumé of his life, Draigo said, “I came here to rescue the Headmaster, but he refused to accompany me. Instead, he made me promise to find you and … a thinking machine.”
Anna laughed. “Erasmus and Headmaster Albans discussed letting you in on the secret some time ago.” She paused as if listening to a voice only she could hear, then nodded to herself. “Erasmus says he wishes they had done it sooner. You would have been a great help to us.”
“My ship can take you far from Lampadas, where you will be safe.”
“Erasmus, too?” She self-consciously touched a bulge in her blouse. “Don’t take us to Salusa Secundus, though. Salvador will destroy Erasmus because he does whatever the Butlerians tell him to.”
“I have no intention of letting that robot memory core come to harm, and I won’t let you become a hostage to the Butlerians either,” Draigo said. “You should no longer be a pawn, Anna Corrino. First you went to the Sisterhood, then to the Mentat School, and now the Butlerians want you. But Directeur Venport has an isolated place to keep you where you’ll be completely safe.”
“No one can know,” Anna said. “Not about me, or about Erasmus.”
“No one will know. I promised Headmaster Albans.”
As dawn brightened the sky, Draigo led her and her precious package out of the swamps, away from the Mentat School, to his hidden ship.
THE SUNSHINE FELT bright and warm on Gilbertus’s face as the guards led him out of the prisoner tent. Lampadas had a yellow-white sun, and even though he had lived here for decades, the daylight still felt wrong to him. He’d been born under the bloated crimson sun of Corrin, a red giant whose light was so harsh that Erasmus had made him wear eye protection. Other slaves who worked outdoors went blind before they grew old … but in Erasmus’s pens few human captives ever grew old.
Manford Torondo did Gilbertus a kindness by not binding his hands, and Anari Idaho did not manhandle him as he emerged into the central camp. Gilbertus showed no fear. He knew his students would be watching from the observation platforms, and he only hoped that the spectacle of his execution would provide enough of a distraction that Draigo could get Anna Corrino and Erasmus safely away.
He had no idea what sort of plan Draigo might develop. That was out of his hands. Erasmus would also understand the danger they faced. But Anna Corrino … she was a wild card. Even so, Gilbertus had faith in all three of them.
Deacon Harian and Sister Woodra stood at the edge of a cleared area in full view of the walled school complex. Gilbertus looked up, although the sun dazzled his eyes. He saw figures up on the school walls and observation decks.
The Butlerians had brought out a special chair from the headquarters tent, and Manford Torondo sat upon it, looking like a king on a little throne.
Gilbertus halted before the Butlerian leader, who had been propped up so that their eyes were at the same level. Manford said, “Even though I am saddened by your behavior and I feel betrayed by you, Gilbertus Albans, I still see the Headmaster of this school and the Mentat who helped me accomplish good things for the Butlerian cause.”
Gilbertus raised his chin. “And I deeply regret having done any of them. I erred in trying to protect myself rather than standing up for my principles. I should have openly defied you long ago. You are wrong.”
Hearing this, the Butlerians went into a barely suppressed fury. Gilbertus had promised himself he would make a statement, but he also had to be careful, because this mob could cause inconceivable damage to the school, not just to him. “You’ll have me as your spectacle, but I remind you of your oath. You will save my school.”
“I will save your school,” Manford said. “I’ll save the Mentats from themselves. They will continue their training, but they’ll be reeducated. Mentats need to understand that their entire purpose is to supersede computers, not emulate them.”
Gilbertus remained stony, realizing that was the best promise he would get. He knew Manford would alter the terms however he wished, and would make whatever justifications he needed.
He was not afraid of Manford’s attempts at indoctrination, since he had trained his students how to think, rather than to blindly follow any doctrine. Gilbertus had given his cherished students the method, and their minds were tools that the Butlerians could not take away, short of killing them. The next Mentats would have to be careful and find ways to continue the great school, or perhaps Draigo might set up another Mentat learning academy someplace safe.
Gilbertus felt confident that Mentats would continue in some form or another, no matter what happened to him. And if the Mentats survived, then this was a worthwhile bargain.
Anari stood there, her sword gleaming in the bright dawn. Deacon Harian glared at him with loathing, blaming Gilbertus for the machines using human shields at the Bridge of Hrethgir, and for the generations of suffering before that. The accusations were ludicrous, and Gilbertus didn’t bother to look at him.
Manford said, “You committed horrific crimes against your own race, Gilbertus Albans. If you recant and beg for forgiveness with all your heart and soul, God may forgive you. But I can make no promises, and you will die today.”
“I wouldn’t want you making me promises on God’s behalf. He may not feel obliged to honor them.”
Harian looked even more offended than before, but Manford merely nodded. “That is your choice, Headmaster. God will do with you as He wishes.”
Gilbertus gave a last smile. “I look forward to debating him.”
Without being asked, he turned to face Anari Idaho and sank to his knees. He heard distant cries of dismay from the observation platforms and growls of outrage from the Butlerians, but it all retreated to a buzz in his mind.
“I know you’re a good Swordmaster and your blade is sharp,” he said.
Anari’s voice cut crisply through the air. “I will do my job.”
He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and withdrew into his Memory Vault, where he had many decades of life to revisit. He knew he had very little time, and memories moved at their own speed.
Gilbertus had spent the first portion of his life on Corrin, with all the care and teaching Erasmus had given him, yet now in memory he returned to his happy times on Lectaire, the seven years when he’d been a normal human being leading a quiet life, in good company. He’d made his first human friends there, including Jewelia, the first person he’d ever loved, an experience he held within him as a long-term treasure, even though it had not turned out as he hoped. Gilbertus also relived the pain of his broken heart, when she had chosen someone else, instead of him.
He remembered Jewelia’s sweet, caring face, her carefree laugh, the good times they spent together. By now she would be old and quite possibly dead, but in his Memory Vault she remained as young and vibrant as the last time he saw her.
He spent that bright moment with her now, and didn’t feel the pain when the sharp sword made its deadly arc.
Chapter 77 (Sand flows through my veins)