He took out a small pry bar and a spanner, but before using them he turned to face Taref and his companions. “I believe that you Freemen have more potential than any of our other operatives.”
OUT ON THE field of Navigator tanks, Draigo spoke with three of his Mentat students, whose training was far more rigorous than what Taref and his companions were going through. Out of more than twenty volunteers for the intense Mentat instruction, these three — Ohn, Jeter, and Impika — had shown the most skills.
Draigo admitted that the trainees would have done better if they’d attended Headmaster Albans’s school on Lampadas. Although Draigo had memorized the curriculum of the great academy, he was not as gifted a teacher as the Headmaster. He missed his mentor, wished that he and Gilbertus had not found themselves on opposite sides of an immense conflict. He didn’t understand how the wise teacher could accept the antitechnology fervor that caused so much obvious harm.
At the school, Draigo and Gilbertus had matched wits many times on theoretical battlefields; they had even clashed for real at the Thonaris space shipyards. How much more formidable the two of them could be if they fought on the same side! He wished the Headmaster would join him in the fight against rampant fanaticism.
He doubted Gilbertus believed machines were innately evil. Draigo monitored Lampadas with his own secret spies and observers among the Butlerians. Over the years, Headmaster Albans had made questionable comments that attracted suspicion, making others wonder if he might be a machine sympathizer after all.
Draigo wondered if that could be true. He hoped it was true.
As he joined his companions out on the Navigator field, he knew these three students were his own now, his most talented apprentices. All three of them had bright lips, disturbingly stained, which told him they were continuing to consume the experimental sapho. Since it increased the mental acuity of his trainees, Draigo encouraged Ohn, Jeter, and Impika to use it. He would not turn down any chance to improve his students, his loyal Mentats.
Some of the candidates who did not prove sufficient to become Mentats volunteered instead to be sealed inside spice tanks for conversion into Navigators. The supreme privilege of being a Mentat demanded constant concentration, whereas a Navigator required a flexible, voracious mind, a great deal of melange, and good fortune. Mentat candidates who became Navigators might be a tremendous asset for VenHold.…
Draigo and his students stepped up to the translucent, gas-filled chambers. Inside, the half-converted, mutant volunteers seemed to be suffocating in open air. Draigo had never let himself grow fond of any particular student, but he was concerned. Despite his own teachings that a human computer must be like a thinking machine — coldly analytical and without emotions — Draigo knew that Headmaster Albans had actually cared for him on a personal basis, and now he had similar feelings for these three.…
The Mentat students stared at the transforming subjects who had recently been their classmates. “Are they in pain? Are they suffering?” Jeter asked.
“Who knows what pain is required before a person can become a Navigator? We did not all become Mentats, nor can we all become Navigators. Greatness requires sacrifice.”
A voice echoed from the chamber of an older, more experienced Navigator — Royce Fayed, who was a special protégé of Norma Cenva.
“They may endure pain,” said Fayed’s burbling voice, “but if they survive, they will know a greater joy than they ever imagined possible.”
“They volunteered for the process,” Draigo pointed out.
“They don’t all volunteer,” remarked Impika.
“No survivor has ever complained,” Draigo said.
Fayed added from his tank speakers, “The greatest gift is to ensure that a person reaches his or her potential … even if they have to be forced to that attainment. I was forced, but I do not regret it for a moment.”
WHEN DIRECTEUR VENPORT arrived home after his unsatisfactory speech in the Landsraad Hall, he summoned his Mentat for a debriefing. Draigo arrived in the admin-towers and found the Directeur scanning a new report he had received from the Denali research facility. His eyes sparkled. “Good news, Mentat! Our researcher Ptolemy wants us to help him transport several new cymeks under the tightest possible security — for a test.”
Draigo was surprised. “Transport cymeks? What kind of demonstration does he have in mind?”
“Something that requires an unusually harsh landscape. He wants us to take his cymeks to Arrakis.”
Draigo nodded. “If you can arrange the transportation of the cymek test subjects from Denali, I will send word to my Mentats at Combined Mercantiles to choose an appropriate place. I would like to attend the test myself.”
Directeur Venport raised his bushy eyebrows. “You are welcome to. I’d like your analysis.”
Draigo remained silent for a moment. “The details will take some weeks to arrange, sir, and I would like to make another brief trip first. I can be back in time.”
Venport looked at him, waiting. “I can tell you have something to ask, Mentat. Speak candidly.”
“I extrapolated from basic data, assessed the political tapestry of conflicts, alliances, and shifting loyalties, then followed my thoughts to their natural conclusion. We have another potential ally against the Butlerians.”
“Which is?”
“Back at the Mentat school, Headmaster Albans pretends to support the Butlerian movement in order to protect his trainees, but I refuse to believe that the teachings he espouses come from his heart. I know him. I’ve debated him numerous times. After the bloody rampage festival in Zimia, he will not support the mobs. His cooperation with Manford Torondo has always been reluctant.”
Directeur Venport was not pleased with the idea, having felt the brunt of the Mentat Headmaster’s tactical skills. “I don’t trust him. Without Gilbertus Albans, the Half-Manford never would have conquered the Thonaris shipyards.” He shook his head. “But I respect your projections, Mentat, and I am inclined to indulge you. What do you propose to do?”
Draigo remained standing, his back straight. “While we prepare the cymek test on Arrakis, I would like to go back to the Mentat School in secret. I think I can make the Headmaster see his folly.” He turned his eyes toward the Directeur. “I intend to recruit him to our side.”
Chapter 31 (Humans never stop looking)
Humans never stop looking for ways to make their lives easier. Yet in taking that course they weaken the species and accelerate the process of genetic atrophy. When the Butlerians rail against computers, they have inadvertently stumbled upon this truth, yet in our quest to breed the perfect human we rely on computers. We have no alternative.
— MOTHER SUPERIOR RAQUELLA BERTO-ANIRUL, private notes
During her months on Wallach IX, Tula threw herself into Sisterhood training with impressive dedication. She seemed obsessed with learning the rigorous techniques as swiftly as possible. Valya had already introduced her to the basic methods on Lankiveil, but now Tula was eager — even desperate — to become as talented as her sister.
Valya was pleased to see the difference in her younger sibling. Tula’s former shyness was replaced with new confidence; she never mentioned being homesick for Lankiveil, never talked about their parents or brother, even though Valya knew the younger girl was close to Danvis, as she herself had been to Griffin. She couldn’t help but smile; her sister’s savage determination was a good sign. Tula was nearly ready. Valya kept watching.