To hide his elation, Josef bowed his head and pretended to be meek. “If there is any way that Venport Holdings can help, Sire, we—”
A courier burst into the Audience Chamber, rushing toward the throne. Imperial guards braced themselves to stop the intruder, then touched earadios, listened to urgent announcements, and let him pass.
Josef looked around, wondering what was happening. Norma Cenva drifted in her tank, and her face came closer to the transparent walls. Her words emerged from the speakerpatch, addressing Josef, although others nearby could hear. “The Imperial Barge just returned, battered, but intact. They were lost in foldspace, but the pilot was talented and desperate. He managed to bring the barge back home, and the surviving crew just broadcast an urgent message.”
The courier bounded up the steps to the throne, gasping, and spoke to Emperor Roderick.
Josef felt as if an executioner’s blade were swinging down toward him. The barge was intact? Then the witnesses were alive! Taref had failed to properly sabotage the emergency Holtzman engines.
The Imperial crew knew that Josef had betrayed and murdered Salvador, and the barge itself had barely escaped from the attacking VenHold ships around Arrakis. If they had somehow survived and returned, they would tell the new Emperor that Josef Venport had caused it all.
He turned to Norma in her tank, whispering, “We are ruined!”
Even before the courier finished his breathless message, Roderick Corrino rose from the throne, his face filled with sickened fury. “You, Directeur Venport! You assassinated my brother!”
He shouted for the guards, who raced forward, drawing their weapons. Josef was surrounded by them and by hundreds of audience members. They would tear him apart. He saw no way to escape.
“This is not a scenario I foresaw,” Norma Cenva said. “Once again, I must rescue you.”
Josef felt a tingle, and the Audience Chamber around him blurred and crackled. With a pop of displaced air, Norma folded space around them and whisked her own tank and Josef Venport away.
Chapter 82 (When studying history)
When studying history, spectacular failures can provide great inspiration to improve.
— ERASMUS, Latter-Day Laboratory Journals
When the spacefolder carrying Draigo Roget’s ship arrived at Denali, Erasmus finally let himself believe they were safe. Their circumstances had dramatically improved, and he was intrigued by all the new experiences that awaited him and Anna Corrino.
But that was small consolation for the loss of Gilbertus, and very probably the end of the Mentat School; the teachings would either be banned or drastically altered by the foolish Butlerians. He still experienced great confusion, a turmoil in his thought processes that was completely unfamiliar to him. For centuries he had strived to understand emotions, but now that he had a better grasp, the independent robot found that he didn’t like them at all.
Erasmus felt deeply disturbed. He thought back to the day before, when Draigo’s scout ship had raced to the covert spacefolder in orbit over Lampadas. Even from there, the robot had continued to observe through his linked network of spy-eyes, but without his usual analytical detachment. He’d felt unsettled curiosity as he watched his dedicated ward kneel down amidst the jeering barbarians, in full view of the Mentat school. This sense of loss was not strictly quantifiable.
Erasmus had rescued the young man from slave pens on Corrin, mentoring Gilbertus and treating him exceptionally well. He had changed the slave boy’s life, and his own. Both had grown from the experience.
And it had all culminated in the horrific scene on Lampadas. Surrounded by rabid Butlerians, Gilbertus had bowed his head and closed his eyes. Interestingly, his expression had been filled with remarkable contentment, enviable peace. A smile had even curled his lips at the last moment. Erasmus did not understand.
Then the Swordmaster had lopped off his head, extinguishing a fine and efficient mind.
Upon seeing the death of his student, his protector, and his friend, a jolt had gone through the robot’s gelcircuitry — a blinding flash that made him unable to process for a moment. In what seemed like an eternity, everything changed for Erasmus, as if the fundamental laws of reality had become different. He had not expected this at all.
Erasmus had seen countless humans die in the centuries of his life, many of them at his own hands, but he had never previously felt anything similar to this. Gilbertus was gone! The companion who had been such an interesting debater, such an avid learner, such a … such a caring, protective friend. Gone. Dead. Murdered! This could not be repaired. Gilbertus could not be replaced. Erasmus had never before experienced such a sharp, painful loss.
Something shifted in his malleable programming. Erasmus could not be cool and objective; rather, he felt dismay, disgust, and anger. And then with a cascade of realizations, data linking to data, he had another epiphany, a completely unexpected insight, another breathless revelation. He had an answer that he had been trying to find for more than two centuries.
Was this what had driven Serena Butler into such an irrational, hateful rage when he threw her noisy, crying child off a balcony? Incandescent, helpless rage and loss? Now he thought he grasped what had produced her immediate blind reaction. It all made sense in a way that it never had before. He understood the spark that had ignited the Jihad, with all of its tremendous consequences.
Gilbertus was gone. The Butlerians had killed him. His mind surged with countless reactions, all of them dark, violent, vengeful.
And now he brought those feelings with him to Denali.
Although Erasmus kept track of the different factions of humanity, especially the machine sympathizers and antitechnology fanatics, he now experienced actual loathing and hatred toward the people who had harmed the human who had become the equivalent of a son to him.
Yes. From all of his studies, that must be the sensation he was experiencing. Hatred. Along with unquantifiable sadness at watching the blood spill out and Gilbertus’s headless body collapse to the ground.
Erasmus despised Manford Torondo. Erasmus grieved for Gilbertus, who had given his life to preserve his beloved school. Those violent savages had destroyed it all. Erasmus felt strong resentment at the unfairness of the situation. Unfairness. These new thoughts and emotions were fascinating to him, and quite unpleasant. They threatened to overwhelm his circuitry.
Gilbertus was dead! And the robot decided he would have to do something about that.…
Draigo Roget and Anna Corrino were tense and frightened as they descended to cloud-swirled Denali. Sitting on the edge of a passenger bench, Anna removed her package with the robot’s core, unfolded the wrappings, and showed the gelsphere to Draigo. After measuring the Mentat’s expression, Erasmus could tell that Draigo was awed and intrigued.
The Mentat said, “Anna, I’m taking you and the robot to a safe haven, away from politics and fanatics. Directeur Venport established this place as a refuge where the greatest minds could create the best defenses to save civilization. These researchers will find the robot’s memory core infinitely fascinating.”
Erasmus spoke into the transceiver hidden in Anna’s ear, and she repeated his words aloud. “Erasmus is confident that we will find the Denali research center just as fascinating as they find him.”
“This is not a pleasant world,” Draigo cautioned, “quite unlike the Imperial capital on Salusa. And dangerous, with a poisonous atmosphere — you can’t go outside the domes without special protective gear.”