Navigators of Dune

by Brian Herbert

  But she couldn’t see the source of it. Was it the Emperor? Uncertain. She would have to monitor very closely.…

  Money is the root of all control.

  —HADITHA CORRINO, advice to her husband

  As dawn light cast its soft glow over the city of Zimia, Emperor Roderick sat in his palace office, rubbing his eyes from lack of sleep. It had been a long night, but he needed the quiet time to attend to countless matters of state. His predecessor, Salvador, had delegated many of the decisions and details, often to his brother, but Emperor Roderick planned to keep a firm grasp on his government. The machinery of an empire has an infinite number of tiny gears.

  And one of those large gears was going to crush Josef Venport. Roderick read a confirmation of action and exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. Even without the results of General Roon’s strike force, whatever had happened to it and all of the soldiers, Roderick had just secured a clear victory against his enemy, a different kind of attack that would bring VenHold to its knees. When he reread the document, he could already feel the Imperial treasury swelling with new wealth. And the Directeur could do nothing about it.

  In an unprecedented move, Roderick had used his authority to seize control of all VenHold banks operating on Imperial planets. This one executive order would deprive the tycoon of significant assets, freezing much of his wealth. Venport’s commercial empire would suddenly find itself without cash to continue operations, to buy fuel or commodities, to hire traders, to pay the salaries of pilots and crew. The man undoubtedly had other sources of wealth and hidden funds in illicit accounts, but this would hurt him, and hurt him badly.

  Far too much time had passed since the departure of the Kolhar strike force, and by now Roderick feared that General Roon had been defeated or otherwise lost—a crippling blow to the Imperial Armed Forces. But this seizure of assets was an even greater wound to the man who had murdered Salvador.

  Roderick knew it wasn’t good enough, though. Directeur Venport’s fleet of fast spacefolders traveled throughout the Imperium with impunity; he still held Admiral Harte’s entire Imperial battle group hostage over Kolhar; and in a bold move Venport had just reasserted control over the lucrative spice operations on Arrakis, neutralizing the Imperial guardian ships and seizing the contract melange harvesting teams.

  But now the lion’s share of Venport’s operating capital had been pulled into the Imperial treasury. Yes, it had been a very productive night.

  Hoping to catch at least a little rest, Roderick tidied his papers and message cylinders. Although dawn’s light already streamed through the crystal windows, he wanted to slip back to his suite before Haditha awoke, so he could spend just a little time beside her in bed; he wouldn’t sleep, but he always felt rejuvenated next to her.

  When he opened the office door, though, he was surprised to see his Truthsayer standing like a statue under the glowing lights, as if she had known exactly when he would emerge. “I must speak with you, Sire. I have news. Another solution for the Venport problem. I think you will be pleased.”

  Roderick noticed a second figure next to Fielle, a wild-eyed man trying to hide in the large woman’s shadow. The stranger had a lean, tanned face and unkempt black hair. He wore the exotic desert clothing of a worker from offworld.

  Roderick was ready to shout for the guards. “What is this? How did he get into the secure section of the Palace?”

  Fielle gestured the stranger forward. “I slipped him in here, Sire. He only just arrived by a black-market transport from Arrakis. We paid handsomely for his passage, but it will be worth every solari.” She stood between the stranger and Roderick, and the Emperor sensed that Fielle would instantly kill the man if he made an inappropriate move.

  “Speak,” he said coldly.

  “As you authorized, Sire, I made overtures to my contacts on Arrakis. Even though Combined Mercantiles controls most of the melange operations, and your Imperial ships have been rendered impotent—there are other ways to sabotage Directeur Venport.”

  Roderick controlled a smile. Perhaps this night would be even more productive. “How?”

  “Our spies located several willing desert men, who found other cooperative desert men, who asked further questions, that led us to this man.” She glanced at the stranger. “His name is Modoc. He and his companions are willing to offer their services to you. That is why I brought him here in this fashion, so he would not be seen.”

  Roderick eyed the strange, anxious offworlder. “And what can he provide for me? How can he hurt my enemy?”

  “Modoc knows of a vulnerability that Directeur Venport doesn’t even realize he has. I have already interrogated him in my special way, and I believe he is sincere.”

  The Freeman bowed awkwardly, then looked up with a peculiar air of confidence. He spoke with a thick accent. “I don’t understand the vastness of your Imperium, Sire. I once had a younger brother who spoke of offworld wonders, and we considered him strange. I may have been hasty in dismissing his dreams.”

  Still wary, Roderick pressed, “And what information do you bring?”

  The desert man seemed to be calculating, considering how to say something, but Fielle spoke sharply to him. “Tell the Emperor what you told me.”

  Modoc said, “I know the precise location of an enormous hidden spice bank that Josef Venport built. He evicted my tribe so that he could fill the chambers with his stockpiles of spice, including all the spice he confiscated from your operations. These are all of his reserves.”

  Roderick frowned. “Even knowing where it is, I could not send enough of a military fleet to breach Venport’s defenses.”

  Modoc narrowed his blue-within-blue eyes. “Ah, Venport thinks he is untouchable, but my people know exactly how to do it.”

  The Truthsayer had more to offer. “With your authorization and tactical support, Sire, Modoc and his people will destroy the stockpile for you—for a fee.”

  Roderick struggled to keep his expression neutral. He had just crippled VenHold finances by seizing the bank assets, and if he could also eliminate such a large stockpile, then Venport would receive a second immense setback. Surely, it would be a mortal wound. “It could bankrupt him,” he said in a low voice.

  Roderick could not afford to redirect what remained of his main Imperial fleet from defending Salusa, but if these desert bandits could deal a blow to Venport through an efficient commando operation, he had nothing to lose.

  With a nod he said to Fielle, “Make the arrangements and give Modoc what he needs. Destroy the stockpile, and that might very well destroy Venport.”

  Modoc bowed. “Consider it done, Sire.”

  Roderick dismissed them and stepped away from his office. Dawn was brightening, and he was eager to get back to his room, though he no longer felt the need for sleep.

  Business is a battle, with its own set of financial weapons and commercial tactics. Just as there are strategies for success in war, so too are there strategies in business.

  —JOSEF VENPORT, Principles of Venport Holdings

  Within days of Josef’s return from Arrakis, Draigo Roget finally arrived from Denali to deliver a personal report of the cymek test run on Lampadas. In Kolhar headquarters, the Mentat presented the images taken by Ptolemy.

  As Josef watched the mayhem caused by the warrior forms, he could tell that Draigo was proud of what the new cymeks had accomplished, even if they had failed to find and kill the half-Manford.

  When the images were finished, Draigo straightened. “I am pleased to announce the clear proof of concept, Directeur. So much destruction was accomplished by a mere three cymeks. And soon we will have many more. Within a month, we will have a full hundred ready to go.”

  Josef smiled. “The savages had no viable defenses against a sophisticated technological attack, and the complete cymek force will eradicate them down to the last simpering man and woman.”

  “There will be collateral damage, innocents killed,” Cioba said, raising a note of caution.

&
nbsp; “The blame lies entirely on the shoulders of the Butlerians,” Josef said. “Civilization is at stake.”

  Draigo nodded. “I believe you are correct in your assessment, Directeur.”

  “How many cymeks are ready to be placed into service right now?” Cioba asked, tucking her long hair over her shoulder as she sat beside her husband. “Do we have to wait a month?”

  “Thirty-one at present. The other walker forms are being modified and tested, and many more are nearing completion, but the new Navigator brains must prove their adeptness on simulated battlefields.”

  Josef fidgeted and paced around his desk, walking to the window of his office, high in the headquarters tower. “Every day that this barbaric stupidity remains unchallenged is another day that weakens civilization. I am anxious to end this war against ignorance.” He stared out at the bustling landing field below and smiled. “And once I eliminate the Emperor’s Butlerian problem, he is bound to soften his stance against me.”

  He nodded to himself. He could use the Imperial forces he had recently captured on Arrakis as a bargaining chip, and could offer to return Admiral Harte’s ships that were being held aboard the foldspace carrier in Kolhar orbit. He would be happy to pay the price, provided Roderick withdrew the punitive decree against him. Then the Imperium could get back to normal.

  He took satisfaction that at least his spice-harvesting operations were under way again, without so many roadblocks, and addicted citizens would be happy to have their melange available to them. His large stockpile would help him guarantee distribution through any future political turmoil. Josef felt stronger and more optimistic than he had in a long time.

  Cioba leaned closer to the Mentat. “And the Erasmus memory core? I am curious—has his knowledge proved as advantageous as we hoped?”

  Draigo’s smile was a surprise on his normally aloof face. “Erasmus has been exceptionally cooperative, even enthusiastic to be among so many dedicated scientists. Many of his insights on old-style machine invasion tactics and traditional weapons have been invaluable to our planning, and he says he has other resources to offer, which he has not yet revealed. As a reward, per his insistence, the Tlulaxa scientists are growing a biological body for him so that he can be a more effective asset.”

  “Never trust a thinking machine,” Cioba warned.

  “We don’t need to trust him to use him,” Josef pointed out. “But is it wise to give him his own body?”

  “The robot made it a condition of his continued cooperation,” Draigo said, “and I projected that it would be a harmless concession, with minimal risk. Should it prove problematic, the new biological body can easily be restrained or destroyed.”

  “It does seem a small thing,” Cioba said. “Why would an evil robot cooperate with us so fully? He must have some scheme of his own.”

  The Mentat said, “I believe Erasmus wants to be important and relevant again, but he also has a different incentive—if we can believe him. He truly feels hatred and revulsion toward Manford Torondo.”

  Josef laughed. “Don’t we all?”

  “I would be reluctant to assign human emotions to a thinking machine, Directeur, but the Butlerians executed his ward and friend, Gilbertus Albans. After conversing with the robot at great length, I believe his hatred may be genuine, even if he himself doesn’t understand it.”

  “We have a strange ally…,” Cioba mused.

  “I will take every bit of help we can get in these dark times.” Josef allowed himself to relax, feeling more confident now. “Very well—as soon as the rest of the Denali cymeks are trained and ready, we will launch a total attack on Lampadas and leave that planet a smoking ruin—and this dismal and distracting year will be over. The Imperium and the human race will be ready to move forward under wise leadership.”

  “That all depends on whether Emperor Roderick will see reason,” Cioba said.

  Josef looked at the Mentat and cocked his head. “After we purge Lampadas, maybe I’ll even let you establish a new Mentat School there, Draigo. Would you like that?”

  “Very much, Directeur. It will preserve the great work of my mentor.”

  * * *

  SOON JOSEF’S OPTIMISM was shattered when two VenHold commercial spacefolders delivered the same disturbing report. The first agitated captain hurried from the landing field to the headquarters tower with his urgent news. At the same time, the second spacefolder arrived, broadcasting wild alarms.

  Josef’s anger flared even before he had all the details.

  The first captain barged into the office. “I just came from Subiak, Directeur! I tried to deliver a full load of spice, large farming equipment from Ix, and expensive musical instruments from Chusuk. That was when we discovered that all VenHold financial assets have been impounded, the planetary bank seized!” The captain blinked. “Directeur, all your wealth on Subiak has been frozen, by order of Emperor Roderick Corrino.”

  Josef’s hackles rose. “But that bank is secure, like my others. All financial assets are held not just in the name of Combined Mercantiles, but in the names of countless other depositors. It’s a separate entity! Roderick has no right!”

  “He is the Emperor, after all.” The captain sounded defeated. “He simply changed the law as he saw fit. Any trade with VenHold is forbidden.”

  Josef slammed his fist down on the desktop.

  Draigo narrowed his gaze, appeared to be running Mentat calculations. “You have been declared an outlaw, Directeur, and therefore your assets are subject to forfeiture. Roderick has taken them away from you.”

  The second spacefolder captain entered the headquarters offices, looking just as alarmed. He confirmed the news, saying he’d heard of banks on three other worlds that had also been impacted, their operations cut off and assets confiscated.

  Josef felt deeply betrayed. “My company cannot function without that cash flow! The wealth stored in any one of those planetary banks is enough to buy an entire world.” He lowered his voice to a growl. “The Emperor knows he can’t fight me militarily, so he’s resorted to this childish ploy. Trying to flex his muscle.”

  “Childish, perhaps, but effective,” Cioba said. “If all of our banks have been stripped from us, Venport Holdings cannot operate. All across the Imperium our ships are loaded with cargo that needs to be delivered, otherwise we have very little operating capital. He’s cutting us off, painting us into a corner.”

  Josef dismissed the two captains, leaving only Draigo and Cioba with him in his office. “We have other assets that even the Emperor doesn’t know about. I will liquidate them to buy more time.” His voice became a low, dangerous growl. “He just moved this conflict onto an entirely different level. It is no longer a dispute, but an outright war.”

  Draigo straightened. “Directeur, perhaps it is time for me to go to Salusa Secundus as our ambassador. I will open negotiations with the Imperial Court. I can facilitate a compromise solution that restores Venport Holdings to the Emperor’s good graces.”

  But now Josef was enraged. “No, we’re a long way past that point. Roderick thinks he can force me into submission, but I will not bargain from a position of weakness! Emperor or not, he cannot treat me this way. I put that man on the throne, and now I find out he’s not fit to rule the Imperium.”

  Angry thoughts clicked like the beads of an abacus in his mind as he tried to measure the assets Roderick had just seized, but the number seemed incalculable. Josef inhaled several long breaths. “I never wanted to be Emperor—I’ve said it countless times—but he has just forced my hand. I cannot ignore this. I will not ignore this.”

  “He seized your assets, and in retaliation you seize the Imperial throne?” Draigo said.

  “I will at least threaten to do so, until he surrenders. After which, he can make an appropriate act of contrition, and I will generously restore him to the Imperial Palace—with a far better understanding of his place.” His voice held a sad weariness. “I had high hopes for that man. Why couldn’t Roderick just op
erate like a sensible businessman? Now I have to save the human race from their own Emperor as well as the barbarians?”

  “How will you accomplish that?” Cioba asked.

  “VenHold military forces exceed anything that the Emperor commands. I have Admiral Harte’s expeditionary force held hostage here, and I’ve seized his guardian fleet at Arrakis. I certainly have enough military might to move against Salusa.” His eyes brightened as a thought occurred to him. “Draigo, you said there are now thirty-one battle cymeks ready on Denali?”

  “Yes, Directeur, although we were expecting to use them against the Butlerians when—”

  “We’ll use them against our enemies, wherever they are, and we’ll force Emperor Roderick to behave responsibly—for the benefit of our collective future. In addition to an overwhelming fleet of VenHold warships, all those cymeks will make the citizens quiver with fear.” He smiled. “I’m going to assemble our most effective military force with all of the top commanders, and contact Norma to have her rally the Navigators as well.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I am left with no choice except to conquer Salusa Secundus.”

  The human form is admirable, both as a work of art and as a sophisticated biological machine, but it was designed by the gradual process of evolution. As a result, the human body possesses numerous flaws and weaknesses that thinking machines do not suffer.

  In my cultural studies, however, I have learned that imperfections themselves can make a work of art valuable. Viewed in the light of its imperfections, the human body is a masterpiece, and I have studied it intently, person after person, piece after piece.

  —ERASMUS, Secret Laboratory Notebooks

  As she watched the male body growing inside the Tlulaxa biological tank, Anna Corrino felt as if she were coming alive along with it. Grown from cells of the late Gilbertus Albans, it made her feel sorry that the poor Headmaster had gotten his head chopped off. But seeing the body also made her happy.