Dune: The Machine Crusade

by Brian Herbert; Kevin J. Anderson

  “Aurelius!” She ran toward him.

  Though she embraced him, he stood in shock. “Norma?” He held her at arm’s length, so he could better look at her. Her eyes were pale blue and sparkling; her perfect face took his breath away. “Little Norma?”

  Seeing his expression, she began to laugh. “I grew up.”

  Venport turned to Zufa, silently pleading for an explanation, and the Supreme Sorceress responded only with a nod.

  “Aurelius, it is me— Norma. Truly.” She tugged on his shoulders, drew him closer.

  Finally, wanting to melt, and seeing her true identity in the eyes that had so often met his own during their warm times and joyful conversations together, Venport folded her into his arms. The eyes were of a different color now, but the same soul infused them. He squeezed her, rocked her, and buried his face in her long, fine hair. “I don’t care what you look like, Norma— just as long as I know it’s you, and that you’re not hurt.”

  She leaned in to kiss him, at first shyly, but when Venport responded, she grew less awkward. Her lovely face was filled with joy, and her deep, throaty voice sounded authentic. And her pale blue eyes had such an incredible depth to them. The lashes were long and black.

  Looking oddly uncomfortable, Zufa watched them, but Venport didn’t care.

  “I… I went to Poritrin. I looked everywhere, but no one knew anything about you. The city of Starda is destroyed. Tio Holtzman is dead, along with Lord Bludd, and hundreds of thousands of others. The prototype ship is gone, your laboratory ransacked. Keedair is nowhere to be found.”

  Norma frowned. “I have no idea what happened to Keedair. His visa was revoked, and he was expected to leave, just like me. I fear the worst.”

  “So do I.”

  “It no longer matters if the prototype ship is gone, Aurelius, because now I know so much more! I know how to fold space and exactly how to construct the ships. They will travel faster than anything known. You must construct them… here, on Kolhar. In fact, I want you here with me from now on.”

  Then, still holding her, not wanting to be separated again, he listened as Norma told him everything….

  As the incredible story sank in, Venport smiled wistfully at her. “This new… incarnation of yours will take some getting used to, Norma. I was rather fond of the old version, you know. If you remember, I asked you an important question long ago, and you promised me an answer the next time we saw each other. I… I’m sorry it took me so long to see you.”

  Norma’s gaze came from deep within her stunningly beautiful features. She pondered, as if a trillion thoughts and possibilities were rushing simultaneously through her mind, faster and more efficiently than any mere human could think. Venport held Norma. He felt tense, still unsure what her answer to his question would be.

  Finally she continued, “I need you with me, Aurelius. I need your support and your skills. And marriage will facilitate what we need to do.”

  It took him a moment to realize that she had accepted his proposal. He chuckled and held her close. “Norma, Norma— I will have to teach you about being romantic.”

  Zufa snorted. He ignored her.

  Norma seemed startled at herself. “Oh, of course I want to be with you more than anyone else in the universe, Aurelius. But this will be a partnership far beyond our personal relationship or business needs. Together, you and I will shape the future of humanity. My vision is so clear, and you are an essential part of it… along with my mother.”

  Zufa’s expression grew more strained with each passing moment. Venport understood her awkwardness, since for years he had been her lover, and now he wanted to marry her daughter. But the eminent Sorceress had long ceased to regard him as a breeding partner.

  “Yes, Norma.” Zufa’s voice carried a warning undertone, as if she sensed consequences the others had not yet imagined. “You may need help in holding on to your humanity.”

  Venport could only remember the beautiful person Norma had always been inside, and hoped that the true essence of this remarkable woman had not been lost in her physical transformation.

  “I promise you one thing, Aurelius,” Norma said. “Your life will never be boring after this.”

  * * *

  OUTSIDE, STARING ACROSS the flat expanse of frozen marshes and gray scrub, Venport didn’t think their new base of operations looked like much. But Norma waved her arms and described her vision for Kolhar. “These untamed plains are perfect for landing fields, storage, and maintenance facilities. We can build a thousand ships as large as we can conceive them, vast spacefaring cargo vessels and powerful battleships.”

  She talked about the immense, mind-boggling construction project, the high-altitude lakes and marshes that had to be filled in, the streams that must be diverted. Venport could not yet visualize the armies of workers that would be required, the offworld materials, the heavy equipment… and the unspeakable investment. He stared at her, already feeling a gnawing dread inside. “And… the cost?”

  “Astronomical,” Norma said, chuckling at her own witticism. “But the profits will be unprecedented— I guarantee this. Our ships will be orders of magnitude faster than any conventional spacecraft today. Competing merchants will go bankrupt trying to keep up with us.”

  Zufa added, “Consider your patriotic duty, Aurelius, not just business profits. These ships will move League military forces across space in the blink of an eye, enabling us to blindside the thinking machines. They won’t know where we will appear next. At last, we can win the Jihad!”

  Venport swallowed hard. “I grow weary, just thinking about it. But how can I make such a commitment of resources, with my business partner missing? No one knows where Keedair is.”

  “You must choose what is right, Aurelius,” Norma replied. “You know what to do. We cannot wait. The Jihad cannot wait.”

  He turned to the younger of the two women, and as he gazed at Norma he did not see her for her stunning new physical beauty at all. In her intense eyes he recognized the old Norma, his dear friend, and knew he could not turn her down.

  “I’ve never stopped believing in you,” he said. “I’ll pay the price, whatever it is.”

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Venport dined with Norma in her cabin. Zufa Cenva had already thrown herself into managing the enormous startup activities that would be required to begin immediate construction on the Kolhar shipyards. Because of lingering personal misgivings, she had left them alone.

  At first, Venport was embarrassed and ill at ease, but then he didn’t care. He just wanted to be with Norma and was still overjoyed to have found her alive, despite his greatest fears.

  They had a cozy fire going and enjoyed the fine meal that Zufa had sent with the first hired workers who would form the initial construction crew. The couple sat at the table looking at each other as they ate roast steppe partridge with savory mint glaze and sweet Kolhar potatoes, served with imported Salusan wine spiked with melange. Before long, Venport knew he would have to watch every cent he invested here, but he would never skimp on special meals with Norma.

  When he looked at the features of her face, he still could not believe what he was seeing. She was startlingly attractive, though when he detected the old Norma behind the expression in the way she gestured, in the gentle curve of her smile, Venport felt an even greater longing.

  “You didn’t have to change yourself for me,” he said. “I had already asked you to marry me, as you were.”

  She laughed, as if it had never occurred to her that she might have reshaped her body like this in order to make herself more attractive to him. “I simply rebuilt my form based on the optimal DNA, as traced back along my maternal bloodline.” When she spoke, she averted her eyes in clear embarrassment, however, and Venport knew that the motive must have crossed her mind. “I’m very glad you like the result, though.”

  She sat with him on a plush white rug by the fireplace. “This is a traditional romantic setting, isn’t it?” she asked. “Just
how I always imagined lovers spending their time together. I never thought it would happen to me, and certainly not with an incredible man like you.”

  He smiled at her, sipping the wine. “I’m no great prize, Norma.” She seemed such a frightening genius, but at other times— such as now— he found her incredibly innocent and naïve. He peered at her over the top of his crystal wineglass. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  Her surprise seemed genuine, and she sounded faintly disappointed. “Am I so obvious? I’m not doing this very well, am I?”

  “There is an art to romance, my dear. Not that I have so much experience, but I can impart some of the basics to you.” Venport shifted closer to her and took her in his arms, where she seemed to melt against him. All of her awkwardness dissipated. “Your mother chose me as a mate because of my genetics, but I failed her in that regard.”

  The previous day, when he had learned that Zufa Cenva carried a child by the Grand Patriarch, he had felt a pang of regret, remembering the years they had spent together… how many times he had tried to give the great Sorceress the perfect daughter that she, and his genetics, should have made possible. But each pregnancy had ended in horrifically malformed miscarriage.

  He didn’t want to think about that. Not now.

  Norma lifted her chin. “Our children will not be disappointments, Aurelius. I shall see to that personally, with cell by cell manipulation if need be.”

  Venport looked at her, then at the lacy window coverings of the cabin. On the vast plain outside, the major construction effort would begin soon, under a relentless work schedule. “How could you possibly have time for children? Are you sure that wouldn’t be sacrificing too much?”

  She met his gaze with such a piercing look that he seemed to see through her pupils, deep into her thoughts. “Nevertheless, it is an important part of being human. I would not want to miss this opportunity.”

  He kissed her on the mouth, then drew away and gazed at her gently, soaking up the passionate, vibrant blue of her eyes. Venport tried to analyze his own feelings, separating the way he had always felt for her from the way he felt now. As he grew accustomed to her beautiful new form he had to admit a greater sense of desire… and he felt ashamed of this. If he truly loved her, why should her appearance matter, beautiful or not?

  Then he realized that Norma had chosen the way she wanted to appear, to attract him.

  “You are the first man who ever paid any attention to me,” she said, “and I’m not sure what to do next.”

  “Trust me, I can be of assistance in that department.” He stroked her long, golden hair.

  In my investigation of human culture, I have encountered nontraditional families, and parents who were not genetically related to the children under their care. I never understood the full significance of such relationships until I began to work with Gilbertus Albans.

  —Erasmus Dialogues

  Erasmus paced in his study, strutting in and out of crimson sunlight that filtered through a thick window and splashed in coppery pools on the floor. When compared with human behavior, the robot realized he was acting somewhat… nervous. He had all of the necessary materials ready, but it was the first time he had ever faced such an ordeal with Gilbertus. According to his studies of human home life and ancient cultures, this was a rite of human passage for a young man.

  If only he could delegate the task. But Erasmus had no wife to assume such burdens. A slave, then? He didn’t want anyone to disrupt the progress he had made with his young ward.

  The robot had considered the problem at length, wondering how he should approach such a delicate issue with Gilbertus Albans. To a thinking machine, the topic was not sensitive at all, a mere biological curiosity, an inefficient and messy natural process. But to many humans it seemed special, even mystical.

  This made no logical sense. It was like a thinking machine being reticent to discuss the concept of AI software and hardware, the ways in which various machines were manufactured, assembled, and networked… the myriad methods in which update spheres were duplicated and exchanged.

  The act of creation.

  On his ornate desk, the robot had piled appropriate diagrams and literature. Two human mannequins were propped up on a couch, in an embrace. He had contemplated simply providing male and female slaves from the pens, by way of demonstration subjects, but felt that would be too easy. Desiring to learn more about what it meant to be human, Erasmus did not want to shirk his “paternal” duties.

  Humans called the bodily function “sex” and other longer words, some of which were not considered acceptable in polite company, according to ancient records from various civilizations. Erasmus found that peculiar as well. How could a mere word offend?

  He recited a series of words that described the copulatory function, letting each of them roll off his flowmetal lips for the maximum effect. He repeated some of the words, those said to be the most socially unacceptable. Nothing. They had no effect on him. He simply could not understand what all of the fuss was about.

  The functioning of thinking machines was so much simpler and more straightforward… except for a curious robot like himself. These plaguing questions and conundrums could be most frustrating.

  He had initiated his research into human nature because he found the complexities of the species so interesting and so eminently alien. Erasmus wanted to assimilate the pieces of the human brain and consciousness that had been left out when they had designed the original AI machines. But he most certainly did not desire to become human himself. Erasmus wanted the best of both universes.

  Young Gilbertus had opened the robot’s investigative mind in many ways. Curiously, as Erasmus pursued the project further, he began to discover things about his relationship with the adopted boy (who was approximately twelve), at a time when the human’s hormones were growing more active. Two years ago, upon accepting Omnius’s challenge, Erasmus had never thought in terms of father and son. At first it had seemed totally absurd, a physiological and emotional impossibility. But as he taught the boy and watched him progress, the autonomous thinking machine took pride in what he saw, and things fell into place.

  Almost naturally.

  A curious bond had formed between them, and they enjoyed one another’s company immensely… with a few notable exceptions. The panic experiments that Erasmus had conducted in the slave pens did not go over very well with the young man, but perhaps that would change in time. Surprisingly, Erasmus found that they learned almost equally from one another. With all of the research he had conducted up to today, Erasmus thought he should be able to complete the task at hand without any trouble. If only he could get over an inexplicable feeling of uneasiness…

  Had some remnant of the human puritanism about sexual matters been installed into Erasmus’s operating programs? That might explain it, or he might be feeling this artificial sensation because he wanted to feel it, in order to better understand the dilemma that had historically faced human fathers.

  While Erasmus was always punctual, the boy was chronically tardy. Too frequently Gilbertus became distracted with other interests, yielding to some fascination with subjects and experiences that he would then breathlessly explain to his mentor. The robot considered it a significant flaw, but quite human.

  He heard a rap at the door, and it slid open. A gawky boy sauntered in, his straw-yellow hair tousled and his face red. Evidently he had run all the way here.

  “You are late as usual.” Erasmus formed his flowmetal face into a stern, parental countenance.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Erasmus. But only nine minutes this time. Yesterday it was—”

  “Let us begin our lesson without further delay.” Erasmus wanted to get it over with. “I have prepared a number of diagrams for you, along with detailed reports and displays on human procreation. I hope you find them instructive.”

  The boy seemed curious, but not uncomfortable. “Is this another biology lesson? Are we going to dissect something?”

  Thu
s far, Erasmus had only dissected lower animal forms in front of the boy, but intended to build up to human subjects one day. The robot wanted to take this slowly, not wishing to alienate the young man or make him advance too quickly. Some of Gilbertus’s reactions to violence seemed overly sensitive.

  “Not… this time. We will deal in biological reproductive theory for now, though I can arrange for you to put the techniques into practice, should you feel the urge.”

  The young man nodded, and paid close attention as the robot walked over to the couch to examine the anatomically correct mannequins he had positioned there. “You will note that we have two basic human forms here, male and female. They are wearing traditional clothing, and are accurate in every external detail.” He motioned to the boy. “Step this way, please. You will note that the man and woman are embracing, and that the man has his mouth near her ear.”

  Dutifully, Gilbertus followed the silvery robot, and peered intensely at the tableau. Erasmus gathered his thoughts, and his composure. “The mannequins are not fitted with full simulation mechanics, so you will have to imagine the next part. Apparently it is a necessary procedure in proper courtship ritual. The man will kiss her ear, lick it, and promise his everlasting love. Traditionally, this causes the woman to go into heat.” He looked sternly at the boy. “Do you understand this so far?”

  Gilbertus nodded. Somewhat to Erasmus’s consternation, the boy displayed a detached curiosity with no uneasiness whatsoever, and no apparent urges of his own.

  “Next, the man will kiss her on the mouth. At this point both will begin to salivate heavily,” Erasmus said in a professorial tone. “Salivation is a key element in procreation. Apparently kissing serves to make the female more fertile.”

  The boy nodded, and half smiled. Erasmus took this to mean that he understood. Good! The robot began to rub the faces of the mannequins together, briskly.