Brian Herbert - Navigators of Dune

There would be no mercy, no peace talks, no prisoners taken. The Butlerian infestation would be exterminated in their own nest.

Directeur Venport had said it best. This was a sentence to be carried out in order to guarantee the future of human civilization. The titanic cymeks and the bulk of the VenHold Spacing Fleet would be enough to do the job.

As the ships closed in, Ptolemy, Noffe, and the brooding Navigator brains installed themselves in gigantic cymek walkers, each one an arsenal in itself. When the preservation canisters were locked into place, the cymek brains tested the thoughtrodes. The spiderlike walkers would be an agile and unstoppable army, ready to raze the city of Empok.

As the cymek drop-pods prepared to launch, Ptolemy wondered if he would feel pleasure once he avenged Dr. Elchan, or just a sense of closure to know he had at last done something for his friend and all the others the fanatics had harmed.

When the armored containers were loaded in the launching bay, Ptolemy’s external sensors showed him the adjacent pods containing Administrator Noffe and the other Navigator cymeks. They would smash the Butlerians like a hammer. Ptolemy swiveled his optical sensors to watch Directeur Venport enter the bay. The business leader stood proudly next to the cymek pods, with the black-garbed Draigo Roget at his side.

“You will launch as soon as we enter planetary orbit,” the Directeur said. “Cymek forces will take care of the ground battle, while our fleet will have its hands full fighting the barbarian warships.”

“Those old Butlerian vessels are no match for our shields or weapons,” Draigo said, not in a boastful manner, just stating a Mentat analysis. “But it will be a tactical challenge, considering the size of their fleet. We are risking everything on this.”

“With the Emperor’s blessing,” Venport said.

While he made sure that Arrakis was well defended, Venport had left only a skeleton crew behind at Denali, since the secret research outpost was secure in its isolation. Once they eliminated the Butlerian threat, the research station’s reason for existence would go away, and Ptolemy looked forward to the day when he and Administrator Noffe could focus on other scientific work to help humanity.

“We will accomplish the mission, Directeur,” Noffe said through the pod’s speakerpatch. “Given the level of resistance that Lampadas is capable of mounting, we will not fail.”

“I wish I could be down there myself,” Venport growled, “but I’ll do my share of destruction up here.”

Alarms sounded as the VenHold fleet entered Lampadas orbit. The antique Butlerian warships scrambled to respond to the unexpected arrival. They blasted away in a pell-mell barrage without any tactical coordination. Explosions rumbled through the hull of the VenHold carrier, and Ptolemy’s sensors detected energy discharges, but none of the enemy strikes penetrated the shields. Manford’s defenders were like a child having a tantrum, growing more desperate when it didn’t get what it wanted.

Draigo said, “We should launch the cymeks now, Directeur.”

Venport’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Yes, we need to do that.”

Connected to his fellow cymeks through external sensors, Ptolemy watched armored pods tumble out of the bay doors of other carriers, dropping through intermittent, timed gaps in the Holtzman shields. Finally Ptolemy felt his own pod launch.

Speeding down through the atmosphere like a meteor, Ptolemy scanned upward to watch the VenHold fleet begin its clash with the Butlerian ships. Already, three of the enemy vessels were damaged or destroyed.

And it was just the beginning.

ANARI IDAHO BURST into Manford’s office, her eyes uncharacteristically wide in panic. “Venport has come for us—we are under attack by his fleet! They’ve opened fire on our ships in orbit.”

Startled, Manford quickly concealed the Erasmus journal he’d been reading behind a pile of other papers. His rush of guilt vanished when he saw her look of urgency. “Venport?” he said. “But we obliterated Kolhar—what can he possibly have left to fight with?” He scowled. “I didn’t know he was even still alive.”

Deacon Harian strode into the room, his face flushed. “Apparently, he had more assets than just Kolhar, and now he intends to get his revenge.”

Anari nodded. “Venport’s ships have dropped more than a hundred armored projectiles through the atmosphere, just like the ones we saw before. I believe they are cymeks—and they are on the way down to Empok.”

As if to confirm her statement, the projectiles began to crash around the city, and Manford felt a sickening chill. We used atomics against him, and now he turns thinking machines against us.

Anari reached down to grab him. “Let me take you to safety in the deep tunnels, Manford. I’ll seal you in an armored room and guard you myself. We’ll send your body double outside—”

“You will not!” He shook free of her grasp. “The demon machines are our greatest enemies, and I will not hide while Venport’s monsters lay waste to my world. Now is the time for me to guide my followers—I will rally them!”

In a stern voice, Deacon Harian said, “Leader Torondo, this is the reason your body double exists. Let that expendable man take the risk. Anari can carry him into battle.”

Manford was growing angry. “Millions of my followers came to Lampadas for me, to be my weapons in the fight for the human soul. Now is the time I need them most, and I won’t let them be led by a counterfeit. Enough! There will be no further discussion.”

Outside in the streets, the crowd was roaring like a beast. Some fled in panic with no safe place to go, while others tried to form a solid defense against the cymeks that emerged from their crash pods. Manford could hear explosions and the heavy grating sounds of mechanical limbs, humming pistons, and thudding footfalls—far too close. The giant walkers began to march.

“Take me out there, Anari. My faith is strong enough to face down these demons.”

She looked torn. “But I swore to keep you safe, Manford.”

“Then don’t allow any harm to come to me.”

Anari’s thoughts and loyalties seesawed, and finally she secured her shoulder harness in place and lifted him onto it. Then she grabbed her sword and carried him out into battle.

WITH THE MENTAT at his side, Josef returned to the bridge of his flagship, which Norma herself had guided to Lampadas. Like birds of prey, more than two hundred VenHold ships had arrived at the Butlerian planet. Now, the enemy vessels standing against them were exactly what Josef had expected, the same ragtag vessels that had appeared unexpectedly at Salusa Secundus … the same ones that had bombarded Kolhar with atomics.

He would show the fanatics that reckless enthusiasm could not make up for the combined shortfall of inadequate shields and out-of-date weapons. Emperor Roderick would be pleased … as Josef himself would be.

By the time he and Draigo reached the bridge, the cymeks had been deployed on Lampadas, and above them the space battle was already under way. Josef expected to mop up the skirmish quickly; it was his task to take care of the barbarian ships in orbit.

The Butlerians shot projectile weapons at the VenHold fleet, and Josef frowned in annoyance as the bridge deck vibrated from the buffeting of explosions against his ship’s shield. After watching the outnumbered ragtag ships closing in like small, overconfident guard dogs, he said, “Cut them to ribbons.”

With Mentat focus, Draigo studied the warship positions, made a quick assessment, and issued instructions. With short, staccato sentences, he directed specific VenHold vessels to take designated positions and open fire. In less than fifteen minutes, seven enemy vessels had been destroyed and three others so severely damaged that they reeled away from the fight.