The Machine Crusade

by Brian Herbert

  He landed at the primitive military facilities erected on the Caladan coast to maintain and monitor surveillance satellites. The engineers and mechanics stationed at the outpost had never seen a ship like this, and the soldiers were astonished at the unannounced arrival of such an important officer.

  "We've been stuck here a long time, Primero," one of the soldiers said. "Are you on a morale-boosting mission?"

  Vor smiled at him. "In part, Quinto. But truly I have another purpose on Caladan. There is someone I must see."

  This time he would not bother to conceal his name or rank insignia. He had decided that he no longer needed to pretend for Leronica. He just wanted to see her and make sure that her life had gone well, that she had moved on. There was no reason to hide his identity.

  Even so, as he approached the town, smelling the sea and hearing the boats, he felt as anxious as if he were going to face an entire robot army. He found his optimism dragged down by an anchor of doubt. Of course a woman like Leronica would have married and raised a family, spending a happy, settled life here on Caladan. He had known from the beginning that he couldn't just remain here and pretend to be a fisherman, and that he couldn't uproot her from this quiet planet and take her into the middle of the Jihad.

  Vor had lost his chance for either course of action almost a decade ago. He should have forgotten about her, but he had tried to keep in touch despite the enormous distances. He had written many letters, sent her packages and gifts… and had never received a reply. Perhaps he should have stopped thinking about her long before this. Maybe it was not a good idea for him to come back here, now or ever. It might disrupt her life, and reawaken too many feelings in him. It was his own fault he had waited so long.

  But his feet kept walking, and his heart drew him forward.

  The coastal village had not changed much; it still welcomed him like la surrogate home. Leronica's tavern seemed to have prospered over the years. He longed to see the lovely woman again, but was not foolish enough to believe he could simply walk back into her arms after so long.

  No, he would just visit as a friend, perhaps reminisce for a while, and leave it at that. He cared for Leronica, remembering her far above other romances, and was anxious to learn what she had been doing in the intervening years.

  When he stepped through the door, Vor stood silhouetted, looking into the dim light of the common room, inhaling the rich smells of smoke, fish, and sweet pastries Leronica had probably baked. Vivid memories flooded back. His smile was certain, and his confidence rose.

  He heard her sharp indrawn breath before his eyes adjusted. "Virk?" she said. "Vorian?" And then she caught herself, unable to believe. "Vorian Atreides, it can't be you. You haven't aged a day since you left."

  Grinning broadly he stepped into the room. "My memories of you keep me young." With a roguish smile, he came close and saw that she looked a decade older. Her face was more mature, her features filled out, and her curly hair longer, but she still looked just as attractive to him.

  Leronica came around the bar and threw herself into his arms. Before he knew it, they were kissing, laughing, and staring deep into each other's eyes. Finally, he managed to catch his breath, stepped back, and held her at arm's length. He shook his head in disbelief, but Leronica's dark pecan eyes were sparkling and wide. "You took your sweet time getting here, Mister. Ten long years!"

  Suddenly he felt uncertain again. "You didn't wait for me, did you? I never expected you to sit alone and stare up into the skies." He didn't want that kind of guilt.

  She made a scoffing noise and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "You think I had nothing better to do? Hardly. I made a very fine life for myself, thank you very much." Then she smiled up at him. "That doesn't mean I didn't miss you, though. I appreciated every letter, every gift."

  "So, you have a husband? A family?" He kept a chaste distance, convincing himself that he wanted to know the answers. "I'm not here to intrude or disrupt your life." He pulled up a chair and sat down.

  Her face saddened. "I'm a widow. My husband was killed."

  "I'm sorry," Vor said. "Do you want someone to talk to? Over a pitcher of kelp beer."

  "That'll take more than one pitcher," she said.

  He gave her a boyish grin, knowing how young he must look to her. "I am in no hurry."

  They exchanged stories, a bit at a time. Each of Leronica's revelations riveted his attention. She had two sons, twins. She had married a fisherman, but her husband of more than eight years had been killed by a strange sea monster. She'd been a widow for more than a year already.

  "I'd like to see the boys," he said. "I'll bet they're fine young men." She gave him a strange look. "Just like their father."

  He stayed for several weeks, making excuses and finding work that ostensibly needed to be done on Caladan, but each day went by too quickly. He met the boys Estes and Kagin, and marveled at the echoes of his own features. The twins were nine years old, and he could do the math himself. He decided Leronica would tell him in her own time, if she told him at all.

  Even if he had gotten her pregnant so long ago, Vor had never acted the part of a father to these boys. If Kalem Vazz was as good a man as Leronica said, let the twins have their memories untainted. Leronica seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

  They spent a lot of close time together, rediscovering friendship. Leronica never suggested that they rekindle their romance — not rebuffing him, but not inviting him to be her lover either. He could tell that she still loved Kalem and remained loyal to his memory. She had settled into her role as a widow, though she did not wallow in grief.

  Vor listened while Leronica talked about Kalem, about her life here on Caladan. Finally, after the first few days, she sighed and then smiled at him. "All of this must sound incredibly dull to a hero of the Jihad."

  "It seems wonderfully peaceful, a refuge from all the horrors I have seen." In his mind, he could not erase the memories of the massacres of helpless colonies, the horrific battlefields, the smashed robots and slain humans.

  She leaned against him, feeling sweetly warm and solid. "It is human nature to long for something other than what we have." She stroked his cheek and he pressed her hand to his skin. "Now you must tell me about all the exotic places you've visited. You sent me that package of beautiful stories, but I prefer the pictures you paint with words. Take me to wonderful, far-off worlds with your stories."

  Vor was nearly convinced that he wanted to make his life with this woman, who had captured his heart. He had already given decades to Serena's Jihad — had he not earned a respite? He could stop fighting, couldn't he, just for a while? When he gazed at Leronica, he saw what he truly desired. "I have all the time in the world, and see no harm in spending half a century with you… if need be."

  But she laughed at him. "Vorian, Vorian, you would never be happy here. Caladan is not enough for a man like you."

  "I wasn't thinking of Caladan," he said. "I was thinking of you, Leronica. To me, you shine brighter than all the stars in the universe."

  They embraced, and shared a long, tender kiss.

  Everything changed two days later when a Jihad messenger came to find him on Caladan. The young man had come on another space-folding ship, crossing a vast distance in moments. Apparently Primero Harkon-nen had dispatched an identical vessel earlier with the urgent news, but! it had never arrived. It felt as if a vice had tightened on Vor's heart when he heard about the loss of another one of the risky Holtzman ships. "The message must be dire indeed if Xavier is willing to risk so much just to contact me.":

  "It is about the Priestess of the Jihad," said the breathless courier!

  Consumed with dread, Vor listened, and was astonished to learn of the peace accord and how Serena had gone to meet with the Corrin-Omnius. He refused to believe she was so foolish or gullible. Then his heart turned cold as he understood from Xavier's message that she wasn't fooled at ill, and that she had something else in mind.

  "I have to go,"
Vor said to Leronica. Her expression did not falter. She had understood from the moment of the courier's arrival that Vor would be called to other duties.

  "I trust you'll believe me now?" she said with a wry, sad smile. "You could never simply withdraw from the Jihad and content yourself with a quiet life."

  "Believe me, Leronica." He kissed her, then stepped back. "There; is nothing in the universe I want more than that… but the universe is not in the habit of asking my preference."

  "Go and do what you must." She smiled at him warmly. "Just try not to wait ten years again before coming back."

  "I promise. Next time, no one will be able to tear me away from you."

  She frowned as she nudged him toward the uniformed courier. "Stop acting like a schoolboy, Vor. You have more important things to worry about now."

  "You'll have to believe me when I return."

  He rushed back to his space-folding scout ship. In a few moments — if he made the dangerous passage safely — he would be back on Salusa Secundus, trying to meet with Serena before she left on her ill-conceived quest to meet with the computer leader. He hoped he could change her mind.

  But if Xavier's suspicions were correct, he might not arrive in time.

  Of all the weapons that we utilize in war, Time is potentially the most effective - and the least under our control. So many major events could have been changed if only there had been another day, another hour, even another minute.

  —Primero Xavier Harkonnen, letter to his daughters

  AT zimia spaceport, Xavier Harkonnen received a VIP seat in the grandstands to watch the departure of the Priestess of the Jihad. He was the only one not cheering.

  Though Octa stayed at home at the Butler Estate, Xavier's second daughter Omilia accompanied him to watch the spectacle. At the age of thirty-five, Omilia continued her career as an accomplished baliset player, performing concerts for popular Salusan cultural festivals. Smiling now, she sat next to her father, happy to be with him.

  Xavier brooded as uneasiness chewed him up inside. Amidst the celebration and grand hopes for Serena's mission to Corrin, he felt incredibly alone. He had dispatched an urgent message to Vorian Atreides, but was sure his long-time friend could not possibly arrive here in time. He focused to Iblis Ginjo as he chattered happily with dignitaries, a bit too pleased with her mission. Xavier was certain that Ginjo had a role in her decision and wished he could discover what was going on behind the scenes.

  Niriem and four other hand-picked Seraphim had already gone on board, preparing to pilot the vessel to Corrin. Standing in front of the ramp, Serena delivered a grandiose speech that was empty and passionless, but still well received. Too drunk with the possibilities of the Jihad's end, the gathered people did not listen closely. They head only what they wanted to hear.

  Excited, Omilia clutched her father's sinewy arm. When he looked at her, he was faintly surprised to recognize that his girl was an adult woman now, beautiful and full of potential, with a hint of Serena's features from the Butler bloodline. Even little Wandra was now already ten years old, and Omilia was nearly twice the age Serena had been when she and Xavier had announced their betrothal, so long ago…

  How could so many years have passed, with so little joy to show for it?

  Filled with worry and foreboding, Xavier stared, his expression intense. In the midst of cheering spectators and waving ribbons, he noticed that Serena looked deeply tired, resigned. She carried herself with a purposeful demeanor.

  He withdrew from his pocket the necklace of black diamonds that Serena had given him so many years ago, before her impetuous secret attempt to save Giedi Prime. Back then, a young and stricken-looking Octa had delivered the necklace with its recorded holomessage. That single decision of Serena's, that one mission, had changed all of their lives forever.

  And now she was off on an even more important venture…

  When the diplomatic ship was sealed and the fanfare blew, Xavier slumped back in the grandstand with tears trickling down his seamed face. Some of the spectators looked at him, perhaps considering the Primero a doddering old veteran reliving his glory, wallowing in half-forgotten memories.

  Smiling, Omilia nudged him. "What's wrong, Father? It'll be all right. Surely you of all people must have complete faith in Priestess Serena?"

  He stroked the smooth, dark gems of the old necklace. "Yes, Omilia. Serena will accomplish whatever she decides to do." He shook his shaggy head. "I fear in my heart that Serena will never come back."

  Vor did not waste a moment worrying about the risks and hazards of navigation with the unproven Holtzman-effect engines. He simply plunged his ship headlong, knowing that he must arrive at the League capital world with all possible haste.

  But he reached Zimia long after Serena had already gone.

  Not knowing what else to do, he went directly to the Butler Estate. Perhaps he and Xavier could find some way. Vor didn't allow himself to doubt that he could do something.

  At the front gate of the manor house atop the hill, the old Primero looked at him with weary, shadowed eyes. Vor was taken aback just to look at the man who has been his comrade for so many years. Could Xavier truly be so old? His face wore an expression of absolute defeat that Vor had never seen before.

  "I knew you would come." Xavier's hands clutched the dark wooden frame of the door.

  "How did you know to find me on Caladan?"

  Xavier gave him a wan smile. "You don't even notice how often you talk about that woman. Where else would you have gone?"

  "If Serena's made up her mind to do something foolish, I should have been here. Maybe I could have stopped her." Vor bit off the angry words.

  Xavier just shook his shaggy head. "It would have made no difference, Vorian. You know her as well as I do."

  Vor let out a resigned chuckle as he entered the foyer. Three lives - his, Xavier's, and Serena's - had been intertwined for so many years that they seemed to be facets of a larger entity. "But why are you so concerned? If Omnius agreed to grant her safe passage to Corrin, then she is probably safe enough. The cymeks are no longer there, and the evermind doesn't know how to break a promise. We all may hate the machines, Xavier, but humans are infinitely more treacherous."

  "Maybe you're right. I hope you are."

  The two men marched down the echoing hall, which seemed cold and empty, filled with ominous shadows. "Here, Serena left something for us," Xavier said. "I've kept it in my private study."

  Xavier closed the door to a wood-paneled room where they would not be disturbed. Reaching into his pocket, he located a small brass key and carefully unlocked a drawer in his ornate desk. With a scraping sound, he slid the drawer open to remove a sealed package.

  Vor noticed his friend's hands trembling as he slit the seal with a fingernail. "She left instructions for us to open this together." Xavier withdrew a small rectangular box whose surface was matte black and unmarked, as if it swallowed up questions as well as light. He handed it to Vorian, who held it for several moments. It felt light and insubstantial. He raised his eyebrows at his friend, who looked very worried.

  "Serena's Seraphim delivered this after her departure." Xavier's lips formed a firm line. "I told you about the necklace she gave me years ago, when she went off to save the people of Giedi Prime. I've still got it. I'm afraid this is something similar, that she's doing something dangerous."

  Vor fumbled with the catch and opened the sealed box to reveal another string of perfectly carved dark crystals that seemed to drink the light. He noticed a power source of the tiny cintral pendant; as he touched it, the projector activated. A small holo-image of proud and charismatic Serena Butler shimmered in the air, wearing her dazzling Priestess robes.

  He turned the pendant so that the image faced him. "Xavier and Vorian, my dear, loyal friends, the more I think about what I must say, the more I am convinced it is better that you are not with me now. I don't have the heart to argue with you." She spread her hands. "I only want you to understand�
� even if you won't agree."

  "How ironic it is that our lives - our very thoughts - have been shaped by the thinking machines. Omnius destroyed all of my dreams, everything I wanted for my future. But the Cogitor Kwyna taught me that the tapestry of history is woven of powerful threads, most of which cannot be seen except when you step far enough away and look at a larger perspective."

  "I understand that you have always loved me, but I could never give either of you as much as you deserve. Instead, a higher power had laid! out a more important purpose for the three of us. Would we really have been content with quiet lives? God grants such kindnesses only to weak people. For us he had a greater design. It has fallen upon us - and Iblis Ginjo - to turn the long, dark journey of human survival into the blazing light of the Jihad. Greatness has its own rewards… and bears its own terrible costs."

  Vor clenched the sharp, jeweled edges of the necklace, afraid to hear what she would say next. He squinted down at Serena's aging but still attractive face. She seemed totally beatific now, as if she had already passed into another realm. He shuddered.

  Xavier sat in his chair, head in his hands.

  "My failure has not been in leading the fight, but in allowing; the people to grow accustomed to endless conflict. They have lost their fervor — and fanatical emotions are necessary if we are to have a chance to defeating the thinking machines. I must do this thing to revitalize the jihad, to renew our purposes."

  She smiled now, gentler. "I am old and ready for one final dramatic example to show Omnius that neither he nor his robot minions will ever understand the human spirit. I will take their ridiculous peace and shove it down their cold metal throats."

  Vor muttered, "No… no. They'll kill you." But he was talking to a holo-projection, and she did not reply.

  Serena continued, "Iblis has been my mentor throughout this terrible decision. He is right. He knows what needs to be done, and has helped me set all the wheels in motion. He showed me my obligations. Listen to him yourselves."