“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 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 on the tiny central 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 her image faced him. “Xavier and Vorian, my dearest, most 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 has 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 of defeating the thinking machines. I must do this thing to revitalize the Jihad, to renew our purpose.”
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 holoprojection, 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.”
Her image wavered and then disappeared like wispy white smoke. Vor looked into the empty space where she had seemed to be, hoping to bring her back, or at least catch a scent of her. A cold sensation of fear told him that these were the last words Serena Butler would ever speak to him and Xavier.
He stared at his grief-stricken friend. Not knowing what to do with his surging emotions, Vor placed the necklace back into the box and sealed it away. “Iblis was her mentor in this decision? What does that mean? Did he convince her to do this?”
Xavier responded in a firm voice that recalled the strength of his youth. “I believe it is what Iblis Ginjo wants, and you know his powers of persuasion. He manipulated Serena, got her to do it. If she never comes back, the Jihad will be his alone to lead.”
Vor had known the former trustee Ginjo since the days of the Earth revolt, and had long recognized his dedication to his own glory and power. Vor distrusted and disliked this forceful man who had used Serena Butler’s name as a platform for his own ambitions.
Xavier looked so pitifully sad that Vor reached out to him. The men embraced, helpless to save the woman they would always love.
I do not fear death, for I was fortunate to have been born in the first place. This life is a gift, and was never really mine at all.
— SERENA BUTLER, last message to Xavier Harkonnen
When Serena Butler arrived at Corrin, she and her Seraphim entourage disembarked to a reception committee of gleaming robots lined up on either side of a crimson carpet. Bravely, she marched alone, into their midst.
The den of demons, the lair of my enemies. Overhead, the huge red sun seemed as if it was about to crash into Corrin and incinerate the Omnius infested world.
“I have come in response to the Cogitors’ peace proposal,” she said, raising her voice. She had practiced her words, chosen the precise terms that would set up the machines for what she intended to do. “I am the Priestess of the Jihad, the Interim Viceroy of the League of Nobles, the Head of the Jihad Council. All humans follow my instructions. Take me to Omnius, who is my equal and counterpart among the thinking machines.”
When Serena motioned for her guards to join her, she saw Niriem look at her curiously, perhaps surprised at the Priestess’s uncharacteristic self-aggrandizement. Serena carried herself with confidence, knowing that the five Seraphim would do precisely what was expected of them, when the critical time came.
A burly, implacable-looking robot stepped out of formation and spoke in a synthesized voice that sounded tinny in the thin atmosphere. “Follow me.”
She shuddered, thinking of the robot Erasmus who had enslaved her so many years ago, tormenting her and killing her baby. But she set her revulsion aside, for it came from another time and another world: Earth.
At the other end of the plush carpet, Serena followed her escort onto a conveyor that swept her and the small entourage into the heart of the machine city, finally pausing at a featureless building of dull silvery metal.
Niriem followed closely as Serena strode with pride and a haughty grace into the Central Spire’s immense rectangular lobby of metalloy and plaz and demanded, “Where is Omnius? I will see if I find him worthy. Very few are blessed with the chance to speak to me.” She had to set them up, provoke them, make the machines do what they must.
A resonant voice came from all the walls around her, and glowing screens like giant eyes shimmered from the featureless metal.
“I am Omnius. I am everywhere. Everything here is part of me.”
She looked around, not bothering to conceal the expression of disdain on her face. “And I alone represent the human race, which has successfully resisted you for so long.”
Without any additional formalities, the evermind said, “Your Cogitor intermediaries suggested terms to end this inefficient conflict. We will now mutually accept the agreement in the formal fashion that humans require.” The computer voice hummed, waiting.
Serena smiled and drew a breath, knowing what she had to do. “You didn’t think that we would simply drop our weapons and go home? After all the decades of the Jihad, you thought we would just forget why we were at war? No, Omnius. I will sign a pact only if you agree to one simple, logical condition: set all humans free.”
The evermind’s voice became an exaggerated snarl, which amused Serena with its artificiality. “That is not what the Cogitors arranged. That is not what I accepted.”
Serena pressed forward. “There can be peace only after you release all humans on the Synchronized Worlds. When I receive confirmation of this, I will inform my Army of the Jihad to cease all further military action. But not until then.” She knew Omnius would not agree to her terms. She understood that the thinking machines would never really negotiate and that her words would provoke them.
“I should have anticipated this, based upon my records of prior human unpredictability,” Omnius said. “Such a conundrum, these hrethgir.”
The escort robot reached forward to seize Serena in a powerful mechanical grip. Her Seraphim leaped into action, throwing themselves onto the sturdy robot to defend Serena.
In a heartbeat, the living metal floor converted itself into a cage with sharp bars, like the ribs of a prehistoric beast, trapping Serena and all five of her protectors. The entire Central Spire convulsed and extended, soaring high into the Corrin sky. Serena’s stomach lurched as she was vaulted into the air.
The angular shaft gleamed silver all around her. The walls curved, and the ceiling burst open, like clawed fingers releasing a fist to reveal the simmering red giant sun in Corrin’s sky before a new ceiling formed over a now-circular room with high walls. The floor solidified beneath her like metal clay.
She squared her shoulders, continuing her intentional provocation. “Only I can issue commands to the League, Omnius. You dare not threaten me. They see me as a veritable goddess.”
She saw that the chamber was studded with jeweled watcheyes and weapons ports, either to impress or intimidate her. Perhaps having learned about such extravagances from a file about the Time of Titans or even the Old Empire, the evermind had even included a throne. A shimmering silvery sphere hovered over the throne.
“Your defiance is illogical, Serena Butler. You are in an untenable position, and have nothing to gain.” The voice came from a thousand places at once. “You are merely one human, and you overstate your importance.”
All the while, Serena just stood with her arms folded across her chest. Death, I fear you not. She struggled to keep her pulse in check. I fear only failure.
From inside her cage, she declared, “I am the leader of this Jihad. I inspired all of free humanity after thinking machines murdered my son. Tens of trillions of people look to me for guidance, for vision, for hope.”
“I think your population is less than that, according to our calculations.”
“And are your calculations always accurate? Did you predict that we would resist you so fiercely?” Or what I am about to do to you now?
“Erasmus has told me much about you, Serena Butler. I have not yet determined if he is fond of you, or disappointed in you.”
Erasmus. The name filled her with abhorrence and terror. Breathing rapidly, she remembered a mantra that her mother had taught in the City of Introspection, “I have no fear, for fear is the little death that kills me over and over. Without fear, I die but once.” Beside her, she heard Niriem take up the quiet chant; the other four Seraphim contributed their voices as well.
One of the curved walls melted away to reveal a robot wearing an absurdly foppish cape. A young man stood beside him. The robot’s mirror smooth flowmetal face shifted into a delighted, welcoming grin. “Hello, Serena.”
The skeleton of her cage melted like ice into the flexible metal floor of the room, leaving her free… and exposed. Serena wanted to scream. She had always believed Erasmus had perished in the atomic destruction of Earth.
“It has been a long time.” The robot’s broad smile absolutely infuriated her. He stepped forward, and his companion paced him dutifully. The young man, who appeared to be sixteen or seventeen years old, with peach fuzz on his face, looked at her quizzically with olive green eyes.
“I hate you.” She spat in the robot’s face, marring the polished perfection of his masked expression. She forced control on herself and said in a low, threatening voice. “You, Erasmus, personally ignited the Jihad by killing my baby.”
“Yes, I have heard something to that effect.” He sounded erudite and detached. “But I never understood how such a small thing could possibly…” The robot’s voice trailed off, as he seemed to lose himself in a reverie. Then he said, “I just don’t see how one insignificant child could cause such a furor. If your number is accurate, billions have been killed in your holy war against thinking machines. Consider the mathematics: would it not have been much less costly simply to ignore the death of your offspring?”
Unable to bear anymore, knowing she had nothing to lose, Serena threw herself at him with pounding fists, just as she had done when he’d blithely dropped little Manion off the high balcony.
But Erasmus grabbed her with calm, steely strength and tossed her away from him, bruising her face and arms as she tumbled to the floor. Serena struggled to her feet.
The robot straightened his rumpled cape and turned to his young companion. “Gilbertus, this is the irrational, fanatical human who once served me in my villa. I told you about her.”
The young man nodded. “I promise I won’t disappoint you like she did.”
Serena glared at the boy. Though human, he studied her as if she were an insect on a specimen tray. Like the robot, he seemed curious but utterly devoid of emotion.
“Is he your new toy?” she asked Erasmus. “Another innocent victim of your experiments?”
The robot hesitated, appearing a bit flustered. “No, Gilbertus is… my son.”
* * *
THE THINKING MACHINES studied and taunted her for hours, it seemed.
The flowmetal cage around Serena and her Seraphim, like the entire Central Spire itself, was a changeling, a machine organism that could transform itself. From hour to hour, at the whim of Omnius, her cell took on varying appearances, from metalloy mesh to ancient prison bars to invisible confinement fields.
At the moment her prison appeared to extend for hundreds of meters with no barriers in view, though she knew theywere there. She no longer cared what form her cage took. Demonstrating the thinking machines’ cruelty, however, her surroundings metamorphosed, precisely replicating the courtyard of the Butler estate on Salusa, where she had spent halcyon times with her family so long ago, and pledged her love to Xavier at a betrothal banquet.
To Serena, the accuracy of the facsimile was concrete proof of machine spies among the League Worlds; the information had undoubtedly been turned over to Omnius by traitorous humans in his employ. The very thought of a flesh-and-blood free human voluntarily working for the evil Omnius turned her stomach.
Memories of her betrothal banquet in this courtyard came back— the Salusan performers who had tied ribbons on shrubs and delighted everyone with their charming folk dances— the women in flowing skirts and men dressed like dapper peacocks. Xavier had worn a spotless Armada uniform that day. He had been so handsome, so filled with joy at the prospect of their life together.
At the Memorex eyes misted over, but she held back her tears, refusing to give Omnius the satisfaction.
Finally,
the evermind said, “This charade wastes too much of my time. Serena Butler, you must change your mind and formally agree to the terms the Cogitors proposed.”
“Pay close attention to what she does,” Erasmus said to Gilbertus Albans.
Serena snorted. “You wouldn’t dare harm me, Omnius. My people see me as invincible, and that is why I alone must stand up to you and demand the immediate freedom of every human slave in your domain. I am equivalent to the evermind of the human race— but I am different from you, Omnius, for I have a heart and a soul! That is why I can never fail.”
Tense and expectant, the Seraphim stood close by their Priestess. Niriem looked imploringly at Serena. Soon. If only the machines would take the bait.
“If you do not agree to the terms, I will have you killed. Your death will cause great damage to the human cause. They will see you are not invincible.”
Serena raised her chin. “You can’t kill me. You promised safety to the human representative.”
“I promised safety on the condition that a human come to accept the terms. You have refused to do so, therefore you have already broken the conditions. I am no longer bound to my conditional guarantee.”
Erasmus studied beautiful Serena as she stood trapped inside the holo-projection of the Butler manor house. Despite her defiant independence, that woman had been the most interesting subject he had ever kept… besides Gilbertus. Erasmus and Serena could have done so much more together. He wondered what she was doing, why she was trying to provoke Omnius.
With bright eyes, young Gilbertus continued to observe, as he had been instructed to do. “What will happen to her?”
The flowmetal face shifted into a wry smile. “That depends on Serena herself. The outcome is impossible to project.”
Finally, Serena said, “You’re bluffing. And I will never change my mind.”
“Please, Priestess,” the chief Seraph whispered, crowding close to her inside the cage, surrounded by bucolic images of Salusa Secundus. “Isn’t there another solution?”
Dune: The Machine Crusade Page 68