For their sleeping alcove, Selim had selected one of the inner chambers whose walls were adorned by etched Muadru rune carvings, the indecipherable symbols that had been placed there by unknown mystical travelers. The ancient writings made Selim feel connected to the soul of Arrakis itself. They helped him achieve a clarity of thought, and his nightly consumption of melange brought him purpose, elucidations, and dreams. Sometimes the visions were murky and difficult to comprehend; on other occasions Selim understood precisely what he must do.
His wife looked up at him expectantly, her eyes glinting in the cave shadows. Trying to keep the tremors out of his voice, he said, “An army approaches, Marha. Naib Dhartha has gathered well-armed offworlders to do his fighting for him. He has cast aside his Zensunni beliefs and his honor. He is a man consumed by his own hatred, and it means more to him now than anything.”
Marha got to her feet. “I will summon all of your followers, Selim. We will gather weapons and prepare to make our stand.”
“No,” Selim said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “They know where to find this place, and will come upon us with an overwhelming force. Regardless of the dedication and ferocity of our fighters, we cannot win.”
“Then we must flee! The desert is vast. We can easily find another hideout far from here.”
“Yes.” Selim stroked her cheek, then bent to kiss her. “You will all go deep into the desert and establish another base to support our cause. But I must remain behind and face him. Alone.”
Marha gasped. “No, my darling, come with us. They will kill you.”
Selim stared into the shadows, his gaze distant and unfocused as if he were peering deeper into a reality that no one else could see. “Long ago, Buddallah blessed me with a sacred mission. All my life I have followed the task He set for me, and it has all come to this nexus. The fate of Shai-Hulud rests upon my actions, and the future that I will help to create.”
“You cannot help create a future if you are dead.”
He smiled faintly at her. “The future is not so simple, Marha. I must set a course that will stand for millennia.”
“I shall stay and fight beside you. I am as capable as any of your fighters. You know I have proven myself—”
He placed his hands on her squared shoulders. “No, Marha. You have a greater responsibility, a much more important one. You must make certain that no one forgets. Only in that manner will we achieve a true and lasting victory.”
Selim inhaled deeply, and the heavy, sweet taste of melange clung to his breath. In the deepest core of his soul he felt a connection with Shai-Hulud.
“I intend to face my enemy alone on the sand.” He turned to Marha’s wide-eyed gaze and gave her a faint but confident smile. His voice held no doubt whatsoever. “As a legend, I can do no less.”
Since there has been no upload linkage between me and the evermind for decades, Omnius does not know my thoughts, which might be considered disloyal. But I do not mean them to be that way. I am just curious by nature.
—Erasmus Dialogues
On the Synchronized World of Corrin, watcheyes were everywhere, observing everything. Though in a sense it was reassuring, sometimes Erasmus found the little electronic spies intrusive and annoying. Especially the mobile units, like persistent little insects. He had learned to be ready for the omnipresent voice that came out of nowhere, at any moment.
The unexpected update ship arrived on Corrin, transmitting the surprising news that, after decades of delay, Seurat would deliver an intact copy of the Earth-Omnius. Erasmus received the news without joy, and waited for the evermind to process the new information. He had never really intended to hide the details of his volatile Earth experiments and their disastrous, unexpected consequences. Not forever, anyway.
Erasmus strolled in the ornamental garden of his private villa; the intense sunlight of the red giant star harmed some of the delicate flowers, and helped other plants to flourish. While he was occupied with a rare bird-of-paradise blossom— one of Serena Butler’s favorite flowers— Omnius processed the lost update with routine efficiency, and Seurat’s update ship departed from the landing zone without incident.
Before the update vessel had even cleared the atmosphere, Erasmus was summoned by the evermind. The authoritarian mechanical voice came from an implant in a bonsai-banyan tree in his private garden.
“Yes, Omnius? Have you found anything interesting in the Earth update?” Erasmus inspected his flowers, as if he had no other concerns. He assumed, however, that he was about to be severely reprimanded.
“I know now that your ‘challenge’ regarding the feral boy Gilbertus Albans has an earlier parallel.” One of the leaves on the tiny tree glowed bright green, the apparent source of the hidden watcheye.
“I have never tried to raise a slave child before.”
“You have proved to be an expert in large-scale manipulation of the human psyche. According to the update, you engaged in an interesting wager with my Earth counterpart to see if you could cause even loyal human trustees to turn against us.”
“Only with the encouragement and full understanding of the Earth-Omnius,” Erasmus said, as if that were an adequate excuse.
“You are attempting to deceive me through incomplete or filtered information. Is this a technique you learned from human subjects? It seems that you are trying to gain an upper hand over me through our competitions in a variety of forms. Do you seek to replace me?”
“I am no more than a servant of your wishes, Omnius.” Out of habit the robot’s flowmetal face formed a smile, though his expression meant little to the evermind. “If ever I attempt to influence your analyses, it is only to generate further understanding of our enemies.”
“You concealed something else from me. Something much more significant.” The bright green leaf vibrated, as if in anger. “You, Erasmus, were the root cause of the original human rebellion.”
“Nothing can be concealed from you, Omnius. There are only input delays, and that is what happened here. Yes, I tossed an insignificant human child off a balcony… and apparently that incited the current revolt.”
“An incomplete analysis, Erasmus. Iblis Ginjo, one of the human trustees you personally corrupted, led the most violent insurrection on Earth, and is now an important political leader in the Jihad. Also, the figurehead of their fanatical cause, Serena Butler, was once your house slave. It seems that your experiments have had catastrophic effects.”
“Only with the goal of achieving better understanding.”
“Is it possible one of your experiments is responsible for the eight other Synchronized Worlds that recently suffered a wave of inexplicable breakdowns?”
“Certainly not, Omnius.”
“Your independent personality is becoming troublesome, Erasmus. Therefore, to prevent further disasters from occurring, your mind will be reformatted and synchronized with mine. As an individual you will be terminated— terminate— termin— term—”
Abruptly, the oddly stuttering Omnius voice fell silent. The light from the watcheye faded. The glowing leaf detached from the bonsai-banyan and tumbled to the ground.
Perplexed, and feeling an urgent need to assess the threat to his treasured individuality, Erasmus looked up at some of the other watcheyes around his villa. They all hung motionless and silent, as if deactivated. One dropped like a stone from the sky and smashed into pieces on the pavement.
An odd silence seemed to penetrate all of Corrin.
“Omnius?” But Erasmus could not find the evermind anywhere on his observation screens or interaction loci.
Overhead, a robot-controlled ship careened on an aberrant approach vector before slamming into one of the industrial buildings.
Sensing the emergency, but not understanding the rash of breakdowns, Erasmus left his villa and traveled with great haste into the main city on Corrin. He found trustee humans, alarmed slaves, and autonomous robots all moving about in apparent confusion.
At the center of the cit
y, the giant Central Spire had gone berserk. Like a writhing serpent, the flowmetal structure convulsed and spasmed, shrinking into the ground and then abruptly launching into the sky, smashing other buildings as if it were the tentacle of an enraged octopus. Omnius’s erratic thoughts guided the movement and restructure of the building.
Erasmus stared at the bizarre display, feeling simulated emotions of confusion, amusement, and horror. Had Corrin suffered the strange breakdown virus, like these other worlds?
Determined and curious, the robot marched around the capital city, trying to communicate with other watcheyes. Everywhere, he found nonfunctioning units and broken parts lying about. He then discovered, from speaking with other robots, that all Omnius systems on the planet were completely shut down in a pervasive paralysis. Unguided vehicles crashed, industrial equipment overloaded and began to burn.
The entire software presence of Omnius had been erased.
“I am declaring a crisis,” Erasmus said over an open communication channel. “The evermind has been damaged, and we must impose control before the planetary breakdowns worsen.” As one of the few independent robots, Erasmus could make swift decisions and was therefore much more efficient than other robots.
He found the situation exciting. Since he had been programmed to be loyal, it had never occurred to Erasmus to usurp Omnius. But now the independent robot found himself faced with a predicament. He had an obligation to maintain machine control on the vulnerable planet— even though the evermind had promised to terminate him.
Not wasting any time, Erasmus imposed his own authority, isolating as many Omnius backups as he could locate, those untouched by the insidious virus causing this cascade of disasters. He could piece together enough computer control to keep Corrin secure. Eventually, he would restore most of the systems while purging the dangerously corrupted files and thoughts from the evermind.
Along with a few careful edits and revisions of his own.
The robot’s flowmetal face stiffened into a mask of determination. Occupying a unique position in machine history, Erasmus had the opportunity to save the primary Synchronized World. If he succeeded, he should be owed something for his trouble. This did not make him disloyal, or even devious. It made him uniquely valuable. He simply needed to survive. He had a right to survive!
If I don’t, we will never understand humans and can never defeat them on the battlefield.
Firmly believing in the logic of his actions, Erasmus created false memories for Omnius, altering scenarios as required. The evermind had no need for the long-dismissed information in the Earth update anyway. The robot’s historical rewrite was not perfect, but he thought it might just allow his continued existence.
* * *
GENERALLY, ERASMUS PREFERRED to deal with great questions in a theoretical manner, rather than by solving problems through overt action. Thus he was curious, even surprised, to find himself launching a military counterstrike— against another independent robot, at that.
Despite his best repair efforts, the interrelated systems on Corrin continued to reel, ruined by the parasitic reprogramming routines hidden within the lost Earth-Omnius update. Erasmus likened the situation to a human with a brain disorder undergoing a violent seizure. Any good doctor would isolate and strap down the victim for his own good. Here, he had done the same with the evermind, mitigating the damage by swiftly isolating Omnius’s systems.
It took him little time or effort to determine that the carrier that had infected Corrin must be Seurat himself. Seurat had also gone to those eight other worlds that had broken down. Unwittingly, the robot captain had delivered his contaminated update, and various Omnius incarnations on other Synchronized Worlds had absorbed the new information along with a programming virus that acted like a silent, ticking bomb.
He summoned a squadron of military robots that could link with the swiftest thinking machine ships. “Track and intercept that update ship. Prevent delivery of further copies of the Earth-Omnius update. You are authorized to destroy Seurat and his vessel if necessary. Your highest priority is to avert further programming breakdowns, such as those we have endured here on Corrin.”
The combat robots swiveled and marched off with thudding footsteps toward razor-sharp craft that could slice through space at high speed. The automated military vessels roared away, spilling smoke into the crimson-stained sky. Their geometric silhouettes crossed the swollen orb of the red giant, like birds of prey as they shot into space.
Erasmus felt a certain kinship with Seurat, but such feelings did not extend to sympathy. The evermind had been severely damaged, and Erasmus would do what was required to clean up the mess.
Not that Omnius would ever deign to show gratitude.
* * *
THE UPDATE SHIP flew faster and more smoothly than the Dream Voyager that Seurat had shared with Vorian Atreides. Because of the adaptations necessary to accommodate the human trustee— life-support systems and creature comforts— the efficiency of the old update ship had been compromised.
Still, the time Seurat had spent engaging in military games and other mental diversions with Vorian Atreides more than compensated for the differences. The robot pilot had come to understand the eccentricities of human nature in far greater detail than by simply scanning the vast Omnius databases.
Unfortunately, his human copilot had overtly betrayed him, which made it difficult to justify pleasant memories of the young man. Even so, the robot captain had avoided deleting those familiar, almost sentimental data files….
When he saw the fast-moving vessels streaking toward him, spreading out in an intercept-and-attack pattern, Seurat thought instantly of League Armada ships. During the final atomic strike on Earth they had fired upon him, pursuing his craft as he attempted to flee the planetary battleground with the last update of Omnius. While most human bombers and fighters had concentrated on the atomic attack, Vorian Atreides had pursued Seurat, stunning the robot captain and disabling his engines….
Now, Seurat quickly determined that he did not have sufficient defensive weapons to fight off such an overwhelming force. Then he realized they were Omnius warships, dispatched from Corrin.
“Stand down or face destruction,” Erasmus’s robots ordered, speaking in a machine language that Seurat automatically interpreted. “Do not try to escape. Power off your engines and prepare to be boarded.”
“Of course I will stand down. I always do whatever Omnius commands.”
“The Corrin evermind is severely damaged,” one of the robot ships reported. “Erasmus has issued explicit orders for us to intercept you and retrieve your update sphere before you can cause further damage to the Synchronized Worlds.”
“I caused no damage,” Seurat protested. “I carry the lost final thoughts of the Earth-Omnius. Every Synchronized World must incorporate these thoughts into Omnius in order to understand human thinking—”
“If you do not surrender the update sphere, we have instructions to destroy your vessel.”
Seurat did not ponder the matter for long. “Come aboard then, and I will relinquish my charge.”
As the combat ships linked with his, the military robots transmitted a full summary of what had occurred on Corrin shortly after Seurat had departed. Astonished, the robot captain could not deny the conclusions drawn by Erasmus. To his dismay he also learned from them about other programming breakdowns… failed everminds on eight planets where he had stopped on his update run. It was like spreading a highly contagious disease. And Seurat had been the carrier.
As armored soldier meks came aboard his cold, airless craft, he said, “I shall return to Corrin immediately and submit to a complete programming rewrite. I will allow my personality to be erased and subsumed, if Omnius feels that is necessary.”
“Omnius is currently off-line and isolated,” the soldier mek said. “During his absence, Erasmus makes all decisions.”
“Then I hope to convince Erasmus that I did not intend to cause any harm.”
; The combat robots seized the stored gelsphere that contained a duplicate of the Earth-Omnius as well as the buried programming virus. Such a pity to waste so much vital information.
His gelcircuitry mind spun through possibilities, and Seurat realized how he had been duped. Only Vorian Atreides could have accomplished such a clever, costly trick. In a teasing tone the human trustee had always threatened to sabotage Seurat’s plans, and now he had actually done so. What sort of practical joke was this? It had caused extraordinary damage to the machine planets.
Seurat wondered if he was capable of laughter, of enjoying a bit of twisted humor. Given time, he would find a way to respond with a sufficiently destructive joke of his own, if ever he saw Vorian Atreides again.
How many opportunities do we miss in our lifetimes? Can we even identify all of them later, thinking back? This is a lesson too many of us do not learn until it is too late.
— LERONICA TERGIET, to her sons
The good-humored soldier who called himself “Virk” spent several days getting to know Leronica Tergiet on Caladan. At first she seemed annoyed with his persistence, unable to take his interest in her seriously, and then she was genuinely surprised, for she had watched him turn down more beautiful and more willing women.
“So you’re not fooling after all?” She sat next to Vor in the tavern after she’d chased away the fishermen customers at the late-night closing time. They all needed to be at their boats by sunrise anyway, when the tides went out. Though he pretended to be just another one of the jihadi soldier-engineers during off-duty hours, Vor had made it clear that he had to begin construction on the military outpost up the coast.
“I wasn’t making up tales,” Vor said. “I know what I value… and I think that getting to know you is worth the time and effort.” Even on Earth, under machine domination, he’d always had plenty of pleasure slaves available to him; however, none of those women had ever laughed with him or talked as a companion or friend. Not like this.
In mock embarrassment, Leronica put a fluttering hand to her chest. “Worth the effort? My, my, what a compliment. Do such sweet words usually work on lovestruck maidens?”
Dune: The Machine Crusade Page 40