“You cannot teach them if you are killed!”
“And we will all lose if I don’t press forward to complete my work.”
Anari couldn’t hide her frustration. “Send me in your place, then, if you don’t absolutely have to be there yourself. Or send your double.”
Manford frowned. “I will go where I need to go.” He sighed, looking at her with great meaning in his eyes — not quite tears, but a reflection of his deep caring. “Your fears are misplaced. It is not my destiny to die a small and remote death.”
THE ORTHODOX SISTER came as a gesture of good faith from Reverend Mother Dorotea at the Imperial Court, although Manford was certain Emperor Salvador knew nothing about it.
Sister Woodra arrived at dawn, dressed in conservative dark robes that concealed her figure. She was middle-aged, neither unattractive nor attractive — not that Manford bothered with such considerations. Woodra followed her faith and helped strengthen the unspoken alliance between the antitechnology Sisters and the Butlerians.
Upon arriving at Lampadas, she had convinced Deacon Harian to escort her directly to the leader’s home. A scowling Anari Idaho answered the door at daybreak, not wanting Manford interrupted. The broad-shouldered Swordmaster stood in the doorway, wearing her weapon at her hip and denying them entry. “He is still asleep.”
Deacon Harian bowed his shaved head in deference but refused to depart. “Apologies, but Sister Woodra comes on urgent business from Salusa Secundus. She has not adjusted to our time.”
“Then she can wait. Manford does not accept intrusions into his private home, especially not at this hour. He conducts business in his headquarters offices in town. Tell her to come back later.”
Though it was barely dawn, Manford had actually been up for some time, always troubled by nightmares when he slept and deep concerns when he was awake. Before the argument could escalate, he called from the back room, “Thank you, Anari. I will meet her now. She has traveled a long way.”
He emerged walking on his hands. Pausing in the middle of the room, he looked up quizzically at Sister Woodra. “I’ve seen you on one of my visits to the Imperial Court. Your face is familiar.”
She bowed formally, regarding the Butlerian leader with respect and, best of all, without pity. “We who serve there do our best to be unobtrusive, Leader Torondo. I was with Sister Dorotea when your Mentat defeated the mek in pyramid chess, and afterward when you announced the rampage festival.”
Manford nodded. “Yes, I can place you now.”
She bowed again. “I am here to offer my services as a Truthsayer. There are those who resist the Butlerian teachings and try to undermine your efforts at every turn.”
“I am all too aware of that,” Manford said. “And what, precisely, can you do for me as a Truthsayer?”
“Some Sisters have a heightened sensitivity to falsehood, which enables us to detect lies and concealments.”
“A useful skill,” Anari interrupted. “But you will find no liars here.”
“I detect no falsehood in your voice, Swordmaster, nor in Deacon Harian’s.”
“And me?” Manford said. “What do you detect in me?”
“You are the most sincere person I have ever met. You believe in your cause without doubt or reservation.”
With a quiet grunt, Manford turned himself about and told them to follow him into his sitting room. Without being asked, Anari settled him into a chair, where he could comfortably converse with his visitors.
Woodra’s steady voice carried complete respect. “My Sisters and I understand the critical importance of your cause, Leader Torondo, but the battle is far from over. You need to know who is telling the truth and who merely pays lip service while secretly being Machine Apologists. Many have taken your pledge, yet they continue to purchase luxuries from Josef Venport.”
Manford clenched his jaw, breathed in, and exhaled a long sigh. “Do not speak that man’s name in this house.” He noticed that Anari tightened her grip on her sword hilt.
Woodra nodded. “I would prefer never to speak it again.”
Hearing that everyone was up, the housekeeper came in with a tray and proceeded to lay out a quick breakfast for the guests. “Sorry it’s such an informal meal, sir, but this should hold you while I make fresh pastries.”
“No need for pastries, Ellonda,” Manford said. “My guests understand that a simple meal is enough, and a simple life is enough.”
The old woman smiled and poured his tea first. Anari took the cup from Ellonda and tasted a sip before allowing Manford to drink.
The Butlerian leader spoke to his small audience, although he knew they were already convinced. “At first glance, we may look the same. Human beings have eyes and ears, minds and bodies. But all people don’t hear the truth that is plain to the righteous. We don’t all see the pure path that righteous people must follow. We don’t all behave in the proper manner.” His listeners remained so silent that it seemed as if they had stopped breathing. Manford gave a small nod. “Even I didn’t recognize the perfect truth at first … until Rayna taught me. And the moment I heard it, I knew.”
He closed his eyes and drifted into his memories. Humanity seemed comparatively safe now, though still scarred and weak — and struggling against the temptation of technology. Growing up, Manford had been desperately poor, and had run away from home, seeking something. He had no grandiose dreams, just wanted a truth to believe in. He didn’t even realize he was searching until the first time he heard Rayna Butler. She was an old woman then, pale and ethereal, her skin like parchment. But she made holy pronouncements in the purest of words, reflecting her absolute purity of thought.
He heard Rayna tell a large audience that humanity’s worst possible mistake would be to forget the dangers of technology. Ambitious humans had created Omnius in the first place, she said, and the cymek Titans had once been human. “Darkness lives within the human heart, and technology feeds it.”
Young Manford had followed her from venue to venue, listening to more than a dozen speeches before she noticed him in the audience. She summoned the starry-eyed young man, talked privately with him, and he gave himself wholeheartedly to her cause, volunteering to be an assistant.
Though she was old enough to be his grandmother, Rayna was so beautiful and angelic that she captured his heart. He secretly scoured through archives until he located images of Rayna Butler as a young woman, and found that she had been as beautiful as he imagined. Soon Manford came to realize he was in love with her, in an unattainable way like the feelings that Anari now had for him.
After he learned what Rayna had to say, Manford built upon her teachings, and she added his contributions to her lectures, until together they developed the Butlerian philosophy into an all-encompassing way of life. Reliance on human skills rather than the crutch of machines, rigorous effort and strengthening rather than the laziness of computers. She had the charisma and passion to change the universe, to reshape the human race — until a madman’s bomb tore her to pieces. Manford had thrown himself in the way, tried to protect her. In that moment, it did not occur to him not to give his life for her.
But he had not been swift enough, and Rayna died in his arms. He held her, barely conscious himself, not realizing that the lower portion of his own body had been blown off, and his legs were gone.…
“I can’t do anything less than what Rayna’s memory requires of me,” he said now. “So many human souls are slipping through our fingers.”
“Then we need to squeeze our fists tighter,” Woodra said.
They finished their simple breakfast, and Manford realized he was glad to have the Truthsayer at his side. When it was time for Anari to carry him to his headquarters, a breathless young courier arrived at his doorway. “Leader Torondo! Directeur Escon has arrived with an important message for you. His ship just arrived in orbit.”