Brian Herbert - Navigators of Dune

Josef smiled. “The savages had no viable defenses against a sophisticated technological attack, and the complete cymek force will eradicate them down to the last simpering man and woman.”

“There will be collateral damage, innocents killed,” Cioba said, raising a note of caution.

“The blame lies entirely on the shoulders of the Butlerians,” Josef said. “Civilization is at stake.”

Draigo nodded. “I believe you are correct in your assessment, Directeur.”

“How many cymeks are ready to be placed into service right now?” Cioba asked, tucking her long hair over her shoulder as she sat beside her husband. “Do we have to wait a month?”

“Thirty-one at present. The other walker forms are being modified and tested, and many more are nearing completion, but the new Navigator brains must prove their adeptness on simulated battlefields.”

Josef fidgeted and paced around his desk, walking to the window of his office, high in the headquarters tower. “Every day that this barbaric stupidity remains unchallenged is another day that weakens civilization. I am anxious to end this war against ignorance.” He stared out at the bustling landing field below and smiled. “And once I eliminate the Emperor’s Butlerian problem, he is bound to soften his stance against me.”

He nodded to himself. He could use the Imperial forces he had recently captured on Arrakis as a bargaining chip, and could offer to return Admiral Harte’s ships that were being held aboard the foldspace carrier in Kolhar orbit. He would be happy to pay the price, provided Roderick withdrew the punitive decree against him. Then the Imperium could get back to normal.

He took satisfaction that at least his spice-harvesting operations were under way again, without so many roadblocks, and addicted citizens would be happy to have their melange available to them. His large stockpile would help him guarantee distribution through any future political turmoil. Josef felt stronger and more optimistic than he had in a long time.

Cioba leaned closer to the Mentat. “And the Erasmus memory core? I am curious—has his knowledge proved as advantageous as we hoped?”

Draigo’s smile was a surprise on his normally aloof face. “Erasmus has been exceptionally cooperative, even enthusiastic to be among so many dedicated scientists. Many of his insights on old-style machine invasion tactics and traditional weapons have been invaluable to our planning, and he says he has other resources to offer, which he has not yet revealed. As a reward, per his insistence, the Tlulaxa scientists are growing a biological body for him so that he can be a more effective asset.”

“Never trust a thinking machine,” Cioba warned.

“We don’t need to trust him to use him,” Josef pointed out. “But is it wise to give him his own body?”

“The robot made it a condition of his continued cooperation,” Draigo said, “and I projected that it would be a harmless concession, with minimal risk. Should it prove problematic, the new biological body can easily be restrained or destroyed.”

“It does seem a small thing,” Cioba said. “Why would an evil robot cooperate with us so fully? He must have some scheme of his own.”

The Mentat said, “I believe Erasmus wants to be important and relevant again, but he also has a different incentive—if we can believe him. He truly feels hatred and revulsion toward Manford Torondo.”

Josef laughed. “Don’t we all?”

“I would be reluctant to assign human emotions to a thinking machine, Directeur, but the Butlerians executed his ward and friend, Gilbertus Albans. After conversing with the robot at great length, I believe his hatred may be genuine, even if he himself doesn’t understand it.”

“We have a strange ally…,” Cioba mused.

“I will take every bit of help we can get in these dark times.” Josef allowed himself to relax, feeling more confident now. “Very well—as soon as the rest of the Denali cymeks are trained and ready, we will launch a total attack on Lampadas and leave that planet a smoking ruin—and this dismal and distracting year will be over. The Imperium and the human race will be ready to move forward under wise leadership.”

“That all depends on whether Emperor Roderick will see reason,” Cioba said.

Josef looked at the Mentat and cocked his head. “After we purge Lampadas, maybe I’ll even let you establish a new Mentat School there, Draigo. Would you like that?”

“Very much, Directeur. It will preserve the great work of my mentor.”

SOON JOSEF’S OPTIMISM was shattered when two VenHold commercial spacefolders delivered the same disturbing report. The first agitated captain hurried from the landing field to the headquarters tower with his urgent news. At the same time, the second spacefolder arrived, broadcasting wild alarms.

Josef’s anger flared even before he had all the details.

The first captain barged into the office. “I just came from Subiak, Directeur! I tried to deliver a full load of spice, large farming equipment from Ix, and expensive musical instruments from Chusuk. That was when we discovered that all VenHold financial assets have been impounded, the planetary bank seized!” The captain blinked. “Directeur, all your wealth on Subiak has been frozen, by order of Emperor Roderick Corrino.”

Josef’s hackles rose. “But that bank is secure, like my others. All financial assets are held not just in the name of Combined Mercantiles, but in the names of countless other depositors. It’s a separate entity! Roderick has no right!”

“He is the Emperor, after all.” The captain sounded defeated. “He simply changed the law as he saw fit. Any trade with VenHold is forbidden.”

Josef slammed his fist down on the desktop.

Draigo narrowed his gaze, appeared to be running Mentat calculations. “You have been declared an outlaw, Directeur, and therefore your assets are subject to forfeiture. Roderick has taken them away from you.”

The second spacefolder captain entered the headquarters offices, looking just as alarmed. He confirmed the news, saying he’d heard of banks on three other worlds that had also been impacted, their operations cut off and assets confiscated.

Josef felt deeply betrayed. “My company cannot function without that cash flow! The wealth stored in any one of those planetary banks is enough to buy an entire world.” He lowered his voice to a growl. “The Emperor knows he can’t fight me militarily, so he’s resorted to this childish ploy. Trying to flex his muscle.”

“Childish, perhaps, but effective,” Cioba said. “If all of our banks have been stripped from us, Venport Holdings cannot operate. All across the Imperium our ships are loaded with cargo that needs to be delivered, otherwise we have very little operating capital. He’s cutting us off, painting us into a corner.”

Josef dismissed the two captains, leaving only Draigo and Cioba with him in his office. “We have other assets that even the Emperor doesn’t know about. I will liquidate them to buy more time.” His voice became a low, dangerous growl. “He just moved this conflict onto an entirely different level. It is no longer a dispute, but an outright war.”

Draigo straightened. “Directeur, perhaps it is time for me to go to Salusa Secundus as our ambassador. I will open negotiations with the Imperial Court. I can facilitate a compromise solution that restores Venport Holdings to the Emperor’s good graces.”

But now Josef was enraged. “No, we’re a long way past that point. Roderick thinks he can force me into submission, but I will not bargain from a position of weakness! Emperor or not, he cannot treat me this way. I put that man on the throne, and now I find out he’s not fit to rule the Imperium.”