The bald deacon had always regarded the Headmaster, and everyone else, with a shadow of suspicion, as if he saw machine ghosts out of the corner of his eye. “Headmaster, summon the rest of your students in organized groups to line up. One by one they will recite the words to affirm their loyalty to Leader Torondo and the sacred Butlerian cause.”
“You can’t ask them to swear an oath they have not had time to read or consider.”
Harian arched his eyebrows. “What is there to consider?”
“A person should fully understand the words of any oath before he swears to it — otherwise the promise means nothing. That is simple logic.”
“This oath means a great deal, Headmaster,” interjected the oath-deputy. A tall beanpole of a man, he had a pointed jaw and tiny eyes. He wore a badge with his title and name: Deputy Rasa. “Everyone must take it.”
Gilbertus didn’t move. “All the more reason that it should be duly considered first, so that each person knows exactly what he or she is swearing to before uttering the words.”
“The words have been properly vetted by Leader Torondo himself,” Harian said.
“Good, that means Manford knows what he is demanding, but my students are trained to think and make their own decisions. I cannot throw out a key tenet of Mentat instruction. You have my permission to leave the text here, and we will thoroughly discuss the matter among ourselves. Return in two months. By then, we will have completed our analysis and discussion, and will give you our decision.”
Harian blinked, as if Gilbertus had just struck him in the face. Alys Carroll stepped up. “I have already taken the oath, Headmaster. It’s plain enough, and states the truth we all know. What is there to discuss?” Her fellow Butlerian students muttered in agreement, as did the entourage accompanying Deacon Harian.
Gilbertus glanced at the printed words — which he had already reviewed in his office — then waved the copy in front of the deacon. “With only a quick glance I can see that this wording is too broad and not thoroughly thought out. It states unequivocally that anyone who uses computers must die, but what if someone accidentally finds and uses old technology? The thinking machines had a penchant for imitating human behavior. What if a person doesn’t know he is interacting with a robot?”
“Any person of faith will instantly recognize the difference,” Harian said.
“According to your oath, any person who uses advanced technology receives the penalty of death, but Leader Torondo recently flew aboard a foldspace ship to Salusa Secundus. Does that mean he has condemned himself to death, by his own terms?”
“The ships of EsconTran have received a special dispensation,” said Deputy Rasa. This was an old argument, one with no clear solution.
“There may be exceptions to the use of advanced technology in the furtherance of spreading our message,” Harian explained. “But that exception does not permit the use of forbidden computers in navigation systems or other aspects of space travel. Anyone who uses computers must die.”
Gilbertus turned to his gathered students. “And yet, my trainees proudly call themselves ‘human computers.’ On Rossak, Emperor Salvador declared ten Sister Mentats to be ‘computers,’ and murdered them all — an action that was condemned afterward by many members of the Landsraad. Are you asserting that anyone who uses a Mentat is therefore using a computer and must be executed? That would be highly unusual, since Manford Torondo uses my services. Could he, on that charge alone, be subject to the execution decree?” He swept his hand out, indicating the students. “These young people have spent a great deal of effort learning to become human computers. How can I possibly have them swear such an oath, knowing they would be signing their own death warrants?”
He turned to Alys Carroll and her companions. “And what of these very students before you, who just swore your oath — do you now expect their immediate, irrational suicides? Or will you execute them yourself, since they are considered computers?” Gilbertus formed a polite smile. “As you can see, it is a slippery slope.”
Alys scowled at the Headmaster. Several trainees chuckled at the logical conundrum, which only made Deacon Harian and the oath-deputy angrier.
Gilbertus, though, remained calm. “My prior actions in cooperation with Leader Torondo prove my long-standing faithfulness and reliability. Did I not just challenge and defeat a thinking machine at the Imperial Court? My past record of cooperation is evidence enough of my loyalty.” He crossed his arms over his Headmaster gown. “Your insistence on this oath is offensive to me, as it should be to any person of intelligence.”
Anna Corrino drifted forward among the trainees with a distant smile and sparkling eyes. “Omnius used to force human captives to do things against their wishes. That’s just what Manford Torondo is doing now.”
Harian’s eyes bulged. “Thinking machines are demons! Leader Torondo protects us all from that trap — Headmaster, make her retract the statement!”
Gilbertus pushed the spectacles up on his nose. “You would have me command the Emperor’s sister? I doubt Salvador Corrino would be pleased with that.” He put a paternal hand on the young woman’s shoulder, pressing hard and hoping she understood that he didn’t want her to speak further. Erasmus could whisper in her ear as well, and he hoped the independent robot would warn her to stay silent.
Gilbertus maintained his cool smile. “You see, Deacon? Anna Corrino is a perfect example of my hesitation about forcing others to take your oath. She suffered grave mental damage and now studies among us in hopes of regaining the normal use of her mind. As her comment suggests, she is not capable of taking such a pledge.”
Harian narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “Leader Torondo decreed that all people on Lampadas must swear the new oath — including the Emperor’s sister.”
“Leader Torondo does not decree what members of the Imperial family must do,” Gilbertus said. “By implication, do you suspect the Emperor’s own sister of disloyalty?”
“I suspect that while she is vulnerable, her mind could be corrupted,” said Harian.
Deputy Rasa added, “She once attended the Sisterhood school on Rossak, which was disbanded after accusations that they used forbidden computers. Now it appears obvious you are providing a bad example for her, Headmaster Albans. The girl is at risk. Maybe we need to take Anna Corrino with us now for safekeeping.”
Gilbertus’s heart skipped a beat. “Anna was placed with me for protection, so she will remain here. I gave the Emperor my word.” This was a matter of honor, not of intellect, and he had a firm — even emotional—need to do the right thing. “My other students will not swear to this oath. It’s too vague, too draconian, and most of all, completely unnecessary.”
As a supreme irony, Gilbertus’s emotions had provided him with the key to an eminently logical conclusion, opening the gates to his own learning. He needed to make an ultimate counterpoint to Manford’s destructive emotionalism — opposing it with an act of supreme logic and human heroics that would be remembered and would ultimately bring down Manford. Gilbertus wanted to become a human ideal for others to admire, the opposite of the Butlerian leader’s terrible example.
A chill ran down his spine, as he remembered that the founder of the movement, Rayna Butler, had become a martyr. Perhaps Gilbertus would have to martyr himself in order to diminish her legendary image, push it out of the human psyche. Logic must trump hysteria. Humans should be creative and giving; they should achieve everything possible with their minds, using their mental powers for good works, not for mayhem and violence. They should build, not destroy.
His assistant Zendur and the gathered Mentat trainees watched the Headmaster’s defiance with varying degrees of fascination, support, and terror.