Brian Herbert - Navigators of Dune

Although Anna had seemed bored and impatient only a moment ago, once he brought her into his work, she felt more valuable. With her assistance he prepared several initial tests. He gave her instructions, and she scurried off to obtain equipment for him.

He selected three living brains to experiment on, and when Anna brought him long, thin needle probes with electrified ends, he went through an extended process of trial and error to locate and stimulate the primary pain receptors in the Navigator brains. With thoughtrodes connected to each specimen, he took readings, adjusted his work, and promptly discovered how to torment the subjects.

He had done this many times before on human brains, but these mutated and supposedly evolved specimens were behaving the same way, with the same primitive responses at the base level of the brain. Even though the specimens did not have a physical form to thrash and scream, which would clearly demonstrate the agony they experienced, the thoughtrode readings did not lie.

“Are we getting the right results, Erasmus?” Anna asked.

“Disappointing ones,” he said, and Anna’s face fell, as if he had criticized her. “It’s not you,” he added quickly. “It is a failing of the brains themselves.”

He reached out to grasp another tank, pressing his hands against the curved plaz wall and lifting it up. The next subject.

“What are you doing?” asked a sharp voice.

Erasmus turned to see Dr. Danebh scowling at him. His own human reactions nearly made him drop the brain container. But he managed to control himself. If the brain tank were to shatter on the laboratory floor, it would be a waste of an experimental subject.

“I am performing scientific research,” he replied. “Is that not what this facility is designed for?”

The Tlulaxa doctor gave him a look of consternation. “Those brains are to guide cymek walkers in our attack against the Butlerians. Denali isn’t a facility devoted to pure research, but to develop weapons against Manford Torondo. That is our priority. Don’t damage our resources.”

Erasmus accepted the justification. “Very well.” He put the canister back in its slot and told Anna to return the other three to their places. “I believe I have learned everything necessary here.”

He shook his head, imitating a gesture he had learned from observing humans. “Considering the primitive responses the subjects have demonstrated, I can understand why these are failed Navigators.”

Valya continued to monitor the progress of her Sisters, especially the stubborn Orthodox ones. Apart from a handful of discards who had needed to be killed, most were successfully retrained, both physically and mentally. The Sisterhood was once again strong and stable, under her able leadership.

Ninke, though, remained a question mark. And a big one.

Sister Deborah stood beside Valya on the practice field, watching hundreds of trainees going through their solo routines, including the spunky and determined Gabi. They kicked at the air and struck imaginary targets with stone-hard fingertips, moving fast. Together, they perfected the combination of skills from Valya’s Swordmaster education, the techniques she and her brother Griffin had created for themselves, and the Sorceress Way. Though closely packed together, the frenetic trainees did not touch one another, but landed gracefully in their proper combat positions, as if choreographed.

“They are making some progress,” Deborah reported.

“Not enough for the standards I have set.” Valya had found that it was never wise to offer too much praise, which might encourage some trainees to be satisfied with less than their absolute best. She raised her hands to pause the session, calling out, “I’ve seen good improvement, but good is less than excellent. A Sister must attain the pinnacle of human abilities, physical and mental. That is why Mother Superior Raquella founded our order.

“I have selected the best among you to undergo more intensive mental training, to add balance to your fighting abilities. You will need those mental skills to advance the Sisterhood into the future, as you will be taught important psychological tools, emotional shaping, and even Truthsaying for those of you who have the ability.”

After she motioned for them to continue practicing, Valya focused on Ninke, while the former Orthodox Sister went through high-order defenses in which she countered complex attacks in sparring sessions with Gabi. Despite Ninke’s stocky, muscular build, her movements were lithe. Her broken arm had recovered sufficiently that she trained with the others, showing only a slight favoring of the other arm.

Valya raised her eyebrows and turned to Deborah. “What is your assessment of Ninke?”

A small twitch of a frown turned Deborah’s lips. “Since being released from the medical center, she is one of the standouts in both the physical and mental arenas. The injury may have made her reconsider her rebellious attitude.”

“But is she loyal?”

Deborah could only shrug. “She professes to adhere to our philosophy, yet even with my careful observation, I can’t ascertain her loyalty to you, Mother Superior. Without question, Ninke is loyal to the Sisterhood—but her degree of devotion to your new methods is not so clear. I doubt if she will ever be as faithful to you as she once was to Reverend Mother Dorotea.”

Valya’s brow furrowed in displeasure. “Just as there are degrees of love, so too are there degrees of devotion and loyalty. How much loyalty do you think is necessary for our purposes?” She watched Ninke continue to fight, wondering whether the woman was worth keeping, or if it was safer just to cut their potential losses and get rid of her after all.

As if sensing she was being singled out, Ninke stopped her routines and let Gabi catch her breath. She turned to face the two observers, her expression openly hostile. Valya stared back at her coolly, and spoke sidelong to the Sorceress. “Her blatant display of emotion shows a lack of mental toughness.”

Ninke wrapped herself in utter calmness and casually glided toward the observers through the frenetic, fast-moving trainees without brushing against them. She faced Valya. “Mother Superior, I survived the hazing you imposed on my faction, and I completed all the demeaning tasks you made me perform. Because of your grudge against us, my fellow Orthodox Sisters have been beaten and injured—some even killed. But I am still here.”

Valya instinctively tensed. “Those others were more valuable to the Sisterhood as examples of what happens to people who disobey me. I believe my methods have been effective.”

“And me?” Ninke sniffed. “Of what value am I to you?”

With a stiff smile, Valya said, “When your faction betrayed us and nearly destroyed the Sisterhood, you committed treasonous acts. But I see potential in you, Ninke, so I have given you a second chance. Will you take it, or spurn your opportunity?”

Ninke lifted her chin. “I have proved myself enough. Sometimes an injustice must be addressed with more than words or acquiescence.” She dropped into a fighting stance, her muscles loose and poised, her eyes hyperalert. “And this is one of those times. Accept me now as I am, or kill me.”

The rest of the Sisters halted their practice, some of them aghast. Deborah stepped out of the way as Valya and Ninke began to circle each other. Ninke glanced to her left, which Valya interpreted as a deception, so she prepared for a strike in the opposite direction, but the other Sister whirled around exactly where she had looked, a double feint, and sprang straight at Valya and struck out at her. Valya used her own reflexes and combined fighting techniques. She felt a ripple of air as Ninke missed her. Barely. Ninke did not favor her injured arm at all, so the hesitation she’d shown in using it earlier must have been faked.