ONE OF THE VenHold picket ships patrolling the Kolhar system detected a flash in the extended sensor net. Long-distance imagers caught what appeared to be a large foldspace carrier emerging in the fringes of the star, but coronal activity and the glare of radiation obscured details.
Directeur Venport had already departed for Arrakis, leaving Cioba as manager in his absence, and she reviewed the inconclusive images. She dispatched several picket ships to patrol closer to the sun, searching for any sign of an Imperial attack force that might be hiding within the stellar glare.
But they found nothing — no foldspace carrier, no ships, no wreckage. Nevertheless, they continued patrols and remained vigilant.
11
Many primary forces influence events in the universe: physical constants, gravitational forces, the laws of thermodynamics, elemental interactions, quantum mechanics. But I have learned that there are also less quantifiable forces that are unpredictable and destructive. These forces include human emotions.
Flying back to Denali from the Lampadas proof-of-concept raid, Draigo Roget scanned the domes concealed beneath the dark, poisonous atmosphere. So much brainpower down there, so many innovations, so much destructive weaponry being assembled under Directeur Venport’s patronage.
Draigo would feel more satisfied if the cymeks had found and killed Manford Torondo. Although that had not been the full objective of the mission, it would have been a welcome accomplishment. Even so, the three monstrous walkers had caused a breathtaking amount of destruction in a limited time and then departed before any Butlerian warships could find Draigo’s shielded ship. In that regard, success was complete.
The two cymek walkers were stored in the cargo hold, with their brain canisters detached. Two of the Navigator brains hung in silent contemplation, possibly dreaming of pathways among the stars, places they might have flown if they had become real Navigators.
Meanwhile, Ptolemy’s brain conversed with him, providing insightful conversation. Draigo and the obsessed scientist had a great deal in common. Both wanted to defeat the Butlerian threat, although Ptolemy’s need to kill Manford Torondo and his followers was so bright and focused it was like a star that would burn out too soon.
As their ship dropped through Denali’s swirling green-gray clouds into darkness, Ptolemy mused, “We should have stayed longer, and continued the hunt for Torondo. He is an evil man.”
“We showed the Butlerians that they are helpless against even three of our new cymeks — and we are building a hundred more. When we launch our full attack, Lampadas is doomed.”
“But Manford still lives.” Ptolemy sounded bitter.
“And he will be terrified of us now.”
The disembodied scientist seemed to take heart from that. Draigo did not mention, though, that he had run extensive Mentat projections; he was concerned that instead of making them cower in fear, this attack would undoubtedly cause Manford to take more personal security precautions, and might provoke the barbarians into even more rampant violence. The forces of sanity and reason had to be ready for it.
Draigo landed the ship, stabilized it, and powered off the engines. Nearby, the bright blisters of habitation domes glowed in the hazy gloom. As he completed the shutdown procedures in the cockpit, automated arms lifted Ptolemy’s preservation canister and installed him in the stored cymek walker body, which was lowered through the bottom hatch. Before long, the other Navigator cymeks joined Ptolemy, and the three walkers strode across the landing field.
Draigo extended the cumbersome connecting tube so that he could pass from the ship into the habitation domes. Through sealed windows, he watched a dozen armored walkers approach from across the landscape to meet the arrivals. Soon enough, he knew, there would be more than a hundred such warrior machines to unleash upon the Butlerian stronghold.
Draigo entered the laboratory dome, prepared to deliver his report. All the Denali scientists shared the goal of saving humanity from the dark age that the fanatics desired. In the briefing room, Administrator Noffe’s brain canister rested on a stand, connected to observation apparatus. The Erasmus memory core waited inside a small display case outfitted with external sensors so that he could see and hear. Lovely Anna Corrino, anxious to be part of any decision or debate that involved Erasmus, remained close to the gelsphere, as if to guard it with her life. Two Tlulaxa biological researchers were already present. Immediately behind Draigo, a whirring cart rolled in, carrying Ptolemy’s brain canister, now disengaged from his cymek body outside the dome.
Draigo shook his head slightly as he looked at the group: a robot memory core, a pair of cymek brain canisters, exiled biological researchers, and a mentally damaged woman. What a bizarre and unorthodox audience this was! But they were all fighting against the same enemy that threatened the future of civilization.
Draigo proudly presented his report, playing images of the Lampadas strike and the havoc recorded by the three cymek marauders. “Our attack was quite effective. The Butlerians will remember this night for some time to come.”
“Total assessment of damage?” asked Administrator Noffe from his tank.
“Seventy-eight dwellings and nine commercial buildings destroyed, with another thirty-seven homes burning at the time the cymeks withdrew. Eight hundred sixty-two confirmed fatalities — primarily bystanders, collateral damage.”
“Not collateral damage!” Ptolemy protested. “They were all targets.”
“And Manford Torondo?” asked Erasmus. “Is he dead? Finally?”
“Manford is an evil man,” said Anna Corrino.
Draigo delivered the disappointing news. “We destroyed his cottage, but were unable to locate him. He escaped, and in that technological wasteland we had no means of tracking his whereabouts.”
“You couldn’t find a legless man?” asked Noffe.
Ptolemy added defensively, “We should return to Lampadas immediately with a larger force. Primitive Butlerian weapons are no match for our cymek bodies — we just proved that, so the people there pose no threat. We can scour the entire planet and make sure he is killed.”
Erasmus spoke in a coolly reserved voice, “That is not likely the most efficient means of destroying the Butlerian leader.”
Ptolemy seemed agitated. “Manford Torondo has caused all of us too much pain. We have more than a dozen cymeks ready to go and countless more in the final stages. Why wait?”
Draigo narrowed his gaze, calculating. “We all know why you hate Manford so much, Ptolemy. I hate him as well. He executed my Headmaster, and I saw firsthand what he did to the Mentat School. I will never forgive him for that.”
The Erasmus core throbbed with pale blue light. “I have been analyzing my experiences and … my feelings about the execution of Gilbertus ever since we escaped from Lampadas. I believe I now understand what a human parent feels upon the loss of a child, because Gilbertus Albans was in effect my son. I am also beginning to understand revenge and hatred as more than just theoretical concepts. It has been a most disturbing, but enlightening experience.” Anna hovered over the gelsphere, adjusted his sensors. The robot core continued, “I can help you design new weapons. I will ensure we have the means to eradicate that man we all despise.”
Anna moved about the chamber, fidgeting with her hands. Her gaze flicked back and forth in agitation, as if she wanted to hide. “So much hatred!”
“Yes,” Draigo said with a firm nod. “And we shall put it to good use.”
12
An injury to a man’s pride may inflict more pain than a wound to his body.