Brian Herbert - Navigators of Dune

Josef turned away from the images of the oncoming ships on the screens and faced his Mentat, who asked him, “Now that Roderick knows Anna is dead, he could simply carpet bomb this installation and kill everyone in the domes. Why take the risk of a ground assault?” Draigo pursed his lips and postulated, “It is possible he does not wish the collateral loss of life among the other Denali scientists. He may want to salvage and co-opt our research.”

With a sinking feeling, Josef realized that he knew the answer. “No, it’s because he wants to take me alive—to disgrace me and drag me before the highest court in the Imperium on trumped-up charges. For the time being, no matter what happens, he will let me live.” His face burned with helpless anger. What a fool he had been to trust the Emperor! He muttered to himself, “I used to consider Roderick Corrino a reasonable man, but I’m willing to bet he will choose one of Salvador’s barbarian execution methods.”

His eyes stung, and he had trouble breathing. Considering the alternative, suicide might be a better option, but he wasn’t ready to take that long, dark plunge. It was never an option that Josef Venport would consider. He didn’t want such a disgrace to be his final act, the thing that people would remember about him. After all he had accomplished, all he had dreamed—what would Cioba think?

As the Directeur, he had handled multiple business, political, and military crises, always finding a way to juggle one of them against the others, to pull an unorthodox solution from the rubble of possibilities. But even he could not mitigate so many betrayals, so many disasters, so many inconceivable setbacks hitting him at the same time.

HUNDREDS OF TROOP transports descended through the murky skies to alight around the Denali complex. The nine remaining patrol cymeks scuttled toward the troop carriers to attack them as they landed. With powerful walker arms, they ripped open the hulls, exposing the human crews to the deadly atmosphere. The last cymeks destroyed five transports, immobilizing and crushing them all, but more Imperial ships kept landing in a rocky open area within reach of the facility, and exo-suited soldiers stormed across the terrain toward the domes. These fighters for the Emperor were far more heavily armed than the Butlerian mobs had been.

As Josef watched on the screens in his office stronghold, he saw hangar doors open in two of the warehouse domes, and ranks of refurbished combat meks marched out onto the hostile landscape of Denali. Erasmus had reprogrammed the fighting robots out there. Even though the independent robot was gone now, the combat meks marched out of their own volition.

“Mentat, report,” Josef said.

“Erasmus must have programmed them to respond in the event of a crisis,” Draigo said. “Maybe to protect himself, or possibly more than that. Not all of the meks are operational—many were still in bad condition the last time he gave me an inspection tour.”

“But some are functional enough.” Josef felt a surge of hope as more and more of the combat robots streamed out to face the attackers. “Will they be enough to turn the tide?”

“Doubtful, Directeur,” Draigo said. “But at least we have a chance at defense now.”

The first wave of the exo-suited Imperial soldiers found themselves facing an enemy they had not expected … hundreds of burly, lurching combat robots. “Fighting meks!” a captain called through the comm.

The Imperial soldiers had been trained to expect a fight, though, and their commanders had not underestimated what exotic defenses the Denali weapons scientists might raise against them. The suited Imperial soldiers turned their heavy weapons against the mechanical army from the past.

The fighting meks pushed forward in an uneven surge, targeting both landed ships and fighters. Thanks to the caustic atmosphere, their body metal was tarnished and corroded; some of their segmented limbs hung useless. But they were relentless. The machines skittered forward like a nightmare from the Jihad.

Imperial pulse weapons mowed them down, but the corroded robots kept coming. Once the first ranks reached close combat, the meks began to kill the Imperial soldiers by gashing their protective suits or tearing off their breathing helmets. Even a minor breach of the seal was enough to make them collapse.

The Imperial soldiers fell back to the shelter of the landed carriers, and from there they mounted a defense against the combat meks. The landers themselves had offensive weapons that drove back the machine advance. Many of the corroded robots malfunctioned and were unable to keep moving forward. The Emperor’s fighters picked them off from their defensive positions, holding firm with their concentrated barrage.

Over the course of several hours, the exo-suited soldiers suffered casualties, but they neutralized the majority of the fighting robots. Then they regrouped and charged toward the sealed laboratory domes, and proceeded to break into them.

FROM WITHIN NOFFE’S old administration chamber, Josef could hear the shouts as some of the airlocks were breached. The previously muted alarms came back on, and he felt cornered. Norma had abandoned him without a word of explanation, and he could not begin to grasp why she would do so. Was there another raid on the spice operations at Arrakis? He had already left so many of his defenses there … and he could sorely use them here at Denali.

Surely, Norma knew what Emperor Roderick would do to him once he was captured. She had to know she was leaving him to die. She simply couldn’t be as oblivious and detached as she seemed. No, Norma had done this intentionally—abandoned him. His great-grandmother, his business partner … and after all he had given her, all the concessions he had made so that she could continue to develop her precious Navigators. Many people had turned against him, but this was the one betrayal Josef had never expected.

The universe is ours, she always said. But apparently she was content to have a universe without Josef in it.

Draigo returned to report that the last of the combat meks had fallen and that the occupying forces were now unhindered. The Mentat ran a hand nervously through his black hair. “I cannot project any viable option for our victory, Directeur—or for your escape.”

Josef looked at the images being transmitted from outside. Imperial soldiers had already breached the hangar airlocks and overrun several laboratories. They were seizing Denali scientists and confining them in makeshift holding cells; some researchers were killed outright if they tried to flee or resist.

He was grimly pleased to see Tlulaxa scientists slow the advance of the Imperials. In one of the biological domes, they unleashed three prototype biomechanical borers—insidious lampreys with metallic teeth that lunged forward to attack the soldiers. Oh, if only those could have been manufactured in great numbers and then turned loose on a superstitious mob of fanatics! Josef had not imagined using the borers against Imperial soldiers, but the cornered scientists were desperate and resourceful.

In the end, though, it wasn’t enough.

The biomechanical lampreys lashed and struck, chewing and tunneling. Three Imperials were killed, half eaten before the prototype machine creatures were neutralized. Then the enraged soldiers turned their weapons on the cowering Tlulaxa scientists and massacred them.

More suited troops kept pushing in through the laboratory domes, taking and holding one corridor after another, one chamber after another. They made their way methodically to the administration dome—and Josef had nowhere else to run.

As he and his Mentat stood together in the administration chamber, Draigo said to Josef, “Permit me to act as negotiator, Directeur. I will present myself as your representative and arrange to save our scientists and our important research. I may be able to salvage something out of this.”