His own name.
Reassessing now, Erasmus thought that he might truly have loved Anna in the best, most pure way possible; somehow, in simulating love he had attained more than his expectations, without realizing it. He understood now that love had made him do something foolhardy by rushing out here into the deadly atmosphere. Against logic, he had assumed he could just return to the dome after saving her.
Anna had said the Sisterhood taught that the emotion of love was dangerous, and now he had an inkling of why. There was much more to learn about many things, but he might never again have the opportunity.
Around him, his physical body smoked and bubbled, the acids scouring away his borrowed flesh, eating down to the bone, then wearing down his skull and collapsing the structure that supported the gelcircuitry sphere. Through it all, Erasmus’s thoughts kept swirling, and he pondered that this fate was not at all what he had expected.
When the biological shell finally dissolved, exposing his memory core to the destructive gases, he was shocked to feel his thoughts melting away, dispersing, disintegrating. Finally, the acids destroyed the gelsphere, erasing every last vestige of Erasmus, down to the final question mark.
78
The value of a hostage is determined by how much he or she is loved or needed.
The alarms throughout the Denali domes were intended to inspire a sense of urgency and determination in a crisis, yet the primary result was to cause a panic. Josef had to grit his teeth and calm himself so he could think straight. He couldn’t let himself appear intimidated in front of the Emperor.
As the Directeur of Venport Holdings, he had the best minds at his disposal; he represented the future of civilization, the triumph of reason over barbarism. He had hoped Roderick Corrino believed the same, but now he knew the man was simply prosecuting his own personal vendetta.
Despite the setbacks, despite betrayals from every side, Josef knew there had to be a solution. He had to find a way to win — and with Anna Corrino he could at least force the Emperor to talk.
Josef had settled into the offices that had once belonged to Administrator Noffe as a place to concentrate. Draigo stood at silent attention beside him; even the Mentat was at a loss to suggest a clever solution.
“We have to find a way out of this,” Josef said. “How do we stand up against the Imperial forces? How do we fight? There are more geniuses consolidated on Denali than on any other world in the Imperium, and I brought them here for a reason.”
The black-garbed Mentat nodded. “Yes, Directeur, and they have a substantial incentive to remember why they are here. But most of your geniuses are theorists, not military strategists. They develop ideas.”
Noffe’s old desk, built to accommodate the Tlulaxa administrator, was too small for Josef, but he sat at it anyway. “We are under threat right now—there’s no time to play with esoteric ideas.”
Frustrated, Josef shut down the automated alarms, and an ominous silence fell over the complex of domes. “That racket wasn’t helping. My people are already tense enough. I need everyone to concentrate.” He looked around, impatient, and his stomach clenched. “Where is Erasmus? He was supposed to deliver a report. I expected him to offer solutions — for his own survival if for no other reason.”
Draigo frowned. “The robot is usually reliable. I will send out inquiries.”
For the hundredth time, Josef wished Cioba were here. His wife was like a rudder to his drifting ship. With her Sorceress blood and Sisterhood training, she might figure a way out, and at the very least, her presence and guidance might have inspired him to come up with a viable solution. But she was far away now, and he wanted her to be safe. She was better off on Salusa. He was sure she would escape if anything happened to him, and then fold herself back into the Sisterhood.
The people on Denali did not have the option to slip away, though. This would have to be their last stand.
In orbit, the Imperial ships did not back down. Instead, they loomed in a threatening posture with all weapons activated. Before they opened fire, Roderick broadcast again. “Directeur Venport, I demand to see proof of life before I even consider negotiations. Let me speak with my sister.”
Judging by the Emperor’s image on the comm screen, the man had not slept recently. His Truthsayer stood at his side, so Josef could not lie; fortunately, he did not have to. “Sire, your sister is safe and comfortable here — completely oblivious to the events taking place, and the danger she is in. I have not told her how you betrayed me. Her safety now depends on your actions.”
The Emperor’s eyes were bloodshot. “Show her to me, and I may decide not to annihilate you.”
Josef watched the Imperial forces close in overhead. Numerous VenHold ships prepared to face them, but many of his vessels still needed repair after being damaged at Lampadas. They were not in top fighting condition.
Josef had to buy time. “Easily done, Sire. I will get Anna. Then we can finally negotiate an acceptable solution.” He cut off the transmission and looked at Draigo. “There, the Emperor has shown his weakness. Send Anna Corrino to me.”
BUT THE YOUNG woman could not be found. Anywhere.
Draigo sent a summons over the laboratory-wide intercom system, and when she did not respond, he made a priority broadcast. “Anyone who has seen Anna Corrino, please inform us. It is most urgent.”
Still nothing. They couldn’t find Erasmus, either. Their searches turned up no sign of the independent robot.
Josef raised his voice. “I don’t understand. These are self-contained domes! How can they be missing?”
Draigo redoubled the search efforts, calling on all scientists, engineers, and security troops to inspect every corridor, ransack every chamber. The Mentat surrounded himself with display screens and reviewed every surveillance recording, scanning through records at the accelerated speed of his mind, absorbing multiple lines of input.
Anna Corrino was not difficult to spot in the recent images. Draigo noted that she looked distraught, walking unevenly and weeping. He watched her enter the cymek hangar and pass through an airlock to emerge in the outside air — to her certain death. Even more astonishing, Erasmus rushed after her only a few minutes later. Both of them had gone outside unprotected.
Draigo considered the ten patrol cymeks that remained at Denali, leftover walker forms that had either been under repair or otherwise not ready to join the Lampadas assault. But the machine bodies were functional enough to march around outside. He instructed the patrol cymeks to circle the domes and find where Anna and Erasmus had last been seen.
Adjusting the input to his screens, he watched as the big walkers searched the area just outside the domes, crisscrossing the rugged terrain. Their imagers used different portions of the spectrum to filter out the poisonous fumes and to cut through the dark gloom.
In minutes, two cymeks came upon a pair of human-shaped stains. Even the residue had mostly been eaten away by the acid mist, leaving only silhouettes and bone fragments. The cymeks took high-resolution images, zooming in.
Draigo’s thoughts and projections spun ahead, but he already knew the terrible answer.
One of the cymeks reached forward delicately, as if testing the dexterity of its large mechanical hands. It reached into the larger stain and scooped out a silvery-blue sphere — or what remained of it: the memory core of Erasmus. As the cymek lifted it, the sphere collapsed and oozed out as a synthetic gelatinous-metallic substance that dripped onto the ground.