Inside the Denali laboratory domes, Directeur Venport’s researchers worked on vital projects, hidden in the poisonous atmosphere of the isolated planet. The scientists had been recruited based on their intellect as well as their hatred of the Butlerians.
Now the research teams regarded the Erasmus memory core with fascination, calling him a priceless trove of historical experiences — which pleased the independent robot. At long last, Erasmus found himself among like-minded persons, and he reveled in the attention.
Draigo Roget had rescued his memory core when the fanatics overthrew the Mentat School. Erasmus appreciated the man’s efforts in saving his life, just as Gilbertus had saved him decades earlier. Erasmus had owed much to his human ward Gilbertus. The robot had raised a feral child from the slave pens and shaped him into a nearly perfect human being. And those irrational barbarians killed him! Defeated, Gilbertus had simply bowed to the thuggish Swordmaster Anari Idaho, who then hacked off his head with her sword.
Erasmus had simulated emotions in his programming, but this personal experience, this sense of terrible loss, had been far greater than anything he had previously recorded.
Now, in a well-lit research chamber against the poisonous gloom outside, his gelsphere core rested on a stand, connected to an imperfect sensory apparatus. Lovely young Anna Corrino, sister of the Emperor, hovered beside the memory sphere, while curious Denali scientists gathered close, hanging on the robot’s words, waiting for him to continue.
Erasmus realized that with his thoughts about Gilbertus, he had lapsed into silent anger. Yes … the human emotion of anger. He reviewed the unique experience in the same way he gathered all interesting data, particularly psychological data in his constant attempt to comprehend the complex human mind.
“I have much information to convey to you,” he said to Anna. “Highly useful information. If I can help you destroy the enemies of reason, I will do so.”
The violent, unnecessary, and confusing death of Gilbertus had changed mental paths in his gelcircuitry. Normally, he would have delighted in receiving new revelations, but the loss of his friend had not pleased him. Not in any way.
“Tell them about the Mentat School,” suggested Anna, smiling in her eagerness. The young woman’s small blue eyes and her quirky personality reminded Erasmus of stained glass, disjointed colors and distorted images. After her brain had been damaged by psychotropic poison at the Sisterhood school, Anna had become skittish, intense, and unpredictable. Her mind had never been the same afterward, and her concerned brothers had sent her to the Mentat School for treatment. There, Erasmus had found her, and made her into his most interesting human subject. He had guided the damaged young woman, manipulated her mind, helped her … but although he had tried to make her fit a perfect mathematical model, his work had not been a complete success.
“I spent many decades hidden at the Mentat School,” Erasmus said, “as Gilbertus Albans taught his students how to organize their thoughts.” His erudite voice was piped through speakers mounted around the room. He remembered what his original voice had been like in his flowmetal body. How glorious he had been back in the heady days of the Synchronized Empire, before the rampant humans wrecked everything … as they had done later at the Mentat School. One could not depend on humans to behave in an organized, rational fashion.
But Erasmus had the capacity to think in the long-term, and he was finally among allies now — those with the potential to cause retaliatory damage. They were all united in their desire to eradicate the Butlerian disease.
“Gilbertus hid my memory core for my own protection. He knew that if I were ever discovered, I would surely be destroyed. Unlike you like-minded people of Denali, others in the Imperium would never accept the benefits of my knowledge. They destroy what they don’t understand.”
Anna fidgeted as she moved about the chamber. Her voice sounded husky, as if overwhelmed with misplaced emotion. “If Erasmus had been destroyed, then billions of people would never learn how brilliant he is! How admirable he is.”
Erasmus had made her believe all those things when her mind was soft and malleable, but now it had solidified from opinion to dogma.
The scientists tolerated her interruptions, because Anna was such a valuable hostage, but they paid little attention to anything she said. Sweet, oblivious Anna didn’t understand her own worth, and Erasmus wanted to ensure that his hold on her delicate mind did not loosen. He appreciated the young woman’s rapt attention to him, even if her devotion verged on obsession. He tolerated it, though. Over the centuries, he had certainly endured enough hatred from humans; he could accept misplaced adoration now.
He continued to address the attentive researchers. “At the Mentat School my sensors and spy-eyes allowed me to continue my observations of humanity, make projections, and test hypotheses. I was hampered by the lack of a physical body, but Gilbertus repeatedly promised he would obtain a vessel to hold my memory core. Somehow, he never managed that.” Erasmus paused. “It was the only way he ever failed me.…”
The Denali scientists took notes on their Tlulaxa datapads. For days now, the cooperative robot had discussed his thoughts and conclusions almost nonstop. He had so much knowledge to dispense, so many discoveries, so much data, that simply organizing everything was a task that stretched their abilities to the limit.
“My experiences are pivotal,” he continued. “I intend to help you find ways not just to defend Venport Holdings, but to annihilate the Butlerians.” He realized that his words might sound boastful, but a thinking machine had no pride. “If only we had more time. It is difficult to distill centuries of experiences into such a compressed time span.”
While he waited for the scientists to catch up with their notes, he accessed the last surveillance images of Gilbertus being led from his imprisonment, forced to kneel down and wait for the swing of the Swordmaster’s blade.…
Near the laboratory table, a preservation tank held the disembodied brain of Administrator Noffe, the first of the new cymeks. Now his detached tank sent signals through the flickering electrafluid, which were converted to words by the speakerpatch. “The facilities of Denali are at your disposal, Erasmus. Our mission is to provide Directeur Venport with the weapons to fight ignorance and strengthen human civilization. Share with us weapons designs from the Synchronized Empire. Help us eradicate the savages.”
“They killed Headmaster Albans,” Anna said, her brow furrowing with concern. “They tried to destroy Erasmus — and me! I don’t know why my brother hasn’t just killed them all.”
“Of course, I will assist you in destroying the Butlerians,” Erasmus said, primarily to soothe Anna, because she could become fixated on a single thought. He had little confidence that Emperor Roderick Corrino could stand up to the fanatics or even to Josef Venport. But the robot intended to assist, because he had his own score to settle, and his own price to demand, when the time was right.
“My greatest desire is to watch the Butlerian leader die, and the more painfully the better. I wish to experience the satisfaction of revenge.” This, too, would be a new sensation, another key detail in his grand quest — and that in itself was exciting.
One of the scientists, a quiet Tlulaxa biological researcher named Danebh, had taken copious notes. He sat back. “I would appreciate data on your biological research, Erasmus. You conducted many dissections back on Corrin, but you also organized intensive genetic data. I understand you even grew a clone of Serena Butler herself?”
“I did, and though the new Serena seemed perfect in every way, she wasn’t nearly as fascinating as the original woman, merely a poor copy. Identical biology does not produce an identical set of experiences and personality.”