Navigators of Dune

He looked at the rows of tanks, all of them being prepared for installation in powerful cymek walker forms. They seemed to contemplate the meaning of their existence.

“You’ve been staring for an hour,” Anna said. “We should go somewhere, do something.”

“I am doing something,” he said. In bygone days, as a prestigious robot on Corrin, he had dissected, stimulated, and tortured his share of human brains. “I am considering experiments to perform.”

Anna stepped closer. “Can I help?”

He pondered, choosing the right answer. “Of course.” That was all she needed to hear.

Anna Corrino herself was one of his greatest experiments, proving how much he could achieve in manipulating, shaping, and developing her damaged personality. But he was mostly finished with her. Now he wanted to poke and prod the Navigator brains.

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.”

The one who makes a suggestion is often at a disadvantage compared with the one who listens and considers it, especially if there are conflicting personal goals.

—RODERICK CORRINO, advice to his brother Salvador

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.