Brian Herbert - Navigators of Dune

Ptolemy pondered longer. “At first I questioned Directeur Venport’s decision to turn our forces against the Emperor instead of the Butlerians, and yet we just saw that Roderick Corrino—supposedly a rational man—has entered into a dangerous alliance with Manford Torondo. Therefore, our work at Denali is more urgent than ever. We must have our full force of cymeks ready to attack Lampadas, and soon.”

ONCE BACK INSIDE the laboratory domes, Draigo urged the scientific teams to work with renewed determination. While he waited for some kind of explanation from Directeur Venport, the Mentat assessed the various projects in progress, rating each concept’s probability of success, as well as the destructive potential and how close each one was to completion.

Though Administrator Noffe’s human body had been damaged in a horrific explosion, he still used his detail-oriented mind to monitor the projects. From his brain canister, Noffe presented feedback, while the robot Erasmus offered several thinking-machine weapons, but so far those designs were inferior to the other work the Denali scientists had produced. For the time being Erasmus seemed obsessed with his growing biological body. He promised more help, though.

Since the large cymek project showed the clearest probability of success against the barbarian enemy, most of the Denali workers devoted their time to that effort. The force of more than one hundred battle machines had to be ready.

Ptolemy was consumed with the idea of turning them loose on Manford Torondo. Draigo knew that back on Zenith, Ptolemy and Dr. Elchan had been naïve humanitarians, entirely unprepared when they inadvertently provoked the fanatics. Now Ptolemy was obsessed with destroying him. Ironically, Manford Torondo had created his own nemesis by inflicting such misery … and every researcher here on Denali had a tale similar to poor Ptolemy’s. All these brilliant men and women were dedicated to the cause of destroying the Butlerians.

Unlike the Tlulaxa scientist Noffe, who had no choice but to abandon his ruined body, Ptolemy had voluntarily given up his physical form to become a cymek. For no reason other than that he wanted to be stronger, he had ordered Tlulaxa surgeons to convert him into a powerful weapon to be unleashed against the enemy.

Ptolemy’s ruthless determination had pushed him to the edge of madness, which could have been a cause for concern, but Draigo wondered if madness, at least a form of it, might be the only effective way to stand against the insanity of Butlerian fervor.…

The day after they returned from Salusa Secundus, he went to inspect Ptolemy’s work in the frantic push to complete the cymek army. Though Ptolemy’s preservation canister could be installed in any number of walkers, he chose a smaller articulated mobile form with multiple limbs and attachments.

This mechanical body now worked inside one of the sealed hangars, tinkering with another cymek framework. Beside Ptolemy’s artificial body, a team of human engineers also worked to strengthen the war-machine’s components, installing a high-powered cannon.

Ptolemy swiveled his sensors to face Draigo. “This one is nearly complete. Later today, I’ll present a detailed manifest of the walker forms, the weapons each one possesses, and which Navigator brains have trained on that unit. We will soon have our full force, Mentat.”

“When will we be ready to launch the attack?” Draigo asked. “The Directeur will want to know. Especially after the rout at Salusa.”

Ptolemy didn’t hesitate. “We can go now with what we have, or tomorrow, or next week—whenever the Directeur unleashes us. And I hope it is soon.”

“Soon enough. When we hear from him again.”

With a whir of attached tools, Ptolemy’s walker finished assembling a clawlike attachment and scuttled over to the Mentat. “With the data from our test mission to Lampadas, I have developed thorough plans for a complete cymek assault. I would like to submit my outline to Directeur Venport. I have the perfect plan.”

“Is any plan really perfect?” As a Mentat, Draigo could always find ways for details to go awry.

“This one is.” Ptolemy’s simulated voice invited no argument. “With more than one hundred armed cymek walkers guided by Navigator brains, we will be invincible against the primitive barbarian defenses. We shall overthrow Manford Torondo and obliterate his mindless mobs. It must be done.”

Draigo pondered. The arrival of the Butlerian warships at Salusa had altered the balance of that battle. At least that was the perception, although his Mentat projections suggested that Directeur Venport could still have won. But the Navigators had whisked all the VenHold ships away. He still didn’t know why.

“I believe we will succeed,” Draigo said. “But have you contemplated your next step after victory? What will happen after you get your revenge against Manford Torondo?”

The mechanical form remained motionless, while the electrafluid in the brain canister throbbed to show Ptolemy’s furious thoughts. “After that, I don’t care.”

Every time he had been summoned to the foldspace carrier’s Navigator deck, Admiral Harte had memorized the route, the various decks and access points, the security hatches and VenHold guard forces. He needed this information in order to develop a plan. And now that they had their chance to escape, he was ready.

Directeur Venport had claimed he didn’t want outright war against the Imperium, suggesting a negotiated settlement instead of conflict, but the idea offended Admiral Harte. His soldiers were infuriated at being held prisoner and treated as pawns.

Yet Harte’s fleet was not quite as neutralized as Venport thought they were. His soldiers were ready to do something about their captivity, even at great risk. They would follow their commander’s lead.

But first Harte needed to find the right moment, the right opportunity. Since being captured, he had kept looking for a chance to break free of their orbiting prison and escape from Kolhar. That was the duty of any prisoner of war, but so far he’d seen no opening.

Until now.

When Directeur Venport assembled a host of warships and set off for Salusa Secundus, leaving his headquarters planet with only a skeleton crew of defenders, Harte knew he would have no better opportunity. Guessing what Venport intended to do to the Imperial capital (and the rightful Emperor) forced Harte to take action.

Umberto Harte had enjoyed a distinguished military career. He had been put to the test as a young officer under Emperor Jules during the religious uproar after the Council of Ecumenical Translators released the controversial Orange Catholic Bible. He had received a commendation for his meritorious service; Emperor Jules had personally pinned a gaudy medal on his chest. Harte served with equal distinction throughout Salvador’s reign, but had never expected to find himself at war against Directeur Venport.…

His seventy Imperial warships were held inside the carrier’s cavernous hold, but each remained separate and isolated, the crews given no opportunity to conspire or take concerted action. Per Venport’s order, Harte and his individual captains could not meet in person, although they could hold virtual debriefing sessions through their communication links, which were closely monitored by VenHold. That made planning an intricate conspiracy and breakout very difficult.