Navigators of Dune

I will choose my allies as best they suit me, but God has chosen my enemy—the enemy of all humankind. God Himself is my staunchest defender. Why do I need you?

—MANFORD TORONDO to Emperor Salvador Corrino

Draigo Roget, Josef Venport’s leading Mentat, arrived in a fast VenHold warship covered with stealth armor so it would remain unnoticed by Butlerian orbital patrols. With its integrated weaponry, this small vessel was capable of destroying a dozen of the old-model Jihad warships that the fanatics used.

But Draigo had not come to Lampadas to battle a planet full of barbarians, not at the moment. This time he was merely a pilot on a proof-of-concept mission that might well eliminate this threat to civilization. He would demonstrate the power of their new cymeks.

Lampadas … He had been trained in the Mentat School here, and here he had learned to loathe Manford Torondo and his followers, extremists who had corrupted and then torn down the great school. The Butlerians had arrested and beheaded his mentor and headmaster of the institution, Gilbertus Albans. Draigo would never forgive them for that.

Unable to rescue Gilbertus, Draigo had managed to escape with the damaged Anna Corrino and the memory core of Erasmus, the infamous robot responsible for so much cruelty and havoc during Serena Butler’s Jihad. Now, Anna was a vital bargaining chip, and Erasmus was a key resource for the Denali scientists; together, they would ensure Directeur Venport’s victory, the triumph of reason over fanaticism, of civilization over barbarism.

That was, after all, what the ongoing conflict was about. Every one of Venport’s people understood that.

Tonight, Draigo’s cymeks would fill the enemy with terror and possibly even kill Manford Torondo, which would neutralize the fanatics once and for all. If nothing else, the cymeks would prove their horrific destructive potential; many of Directeur Venport’s scientists would be eager to see the results.

Of the three cymeks in the hold of Draigo’s ship, two were guided by enhanced Navigator brains, while the third was controlled by Ptolemy, the first voluntary new cymek, a genius driven by his hatred of Manford Torondo. Ptolemy had opted to discard his frail human form, exchanging it for any mechanical body he liked. A powerful, destructive body.

Manford had certainly generated a lot of enemies.

Secure in orbit above the quiet planet, confident that the stealth systems would keep him hidden from the primitive Butlerian warships, Draigo prepared for the mission. Ptolemy’s brain canister was installed in his warrior form, while the two Navigator-driven cymeks moved their walkers into armored drop-pods. The Navigator brains were silent and brooding, as always, but they followed instructions. After checking the thoughtrode connections, Draigo pronounced all three machines ready for launch.

Ptolemy raised one multiclawed hand and clacked the long, sharp pincers together. His words came through the speakerpatch. “That sadistic monster burned my friend alive and forced me to watch. Manford Torondo must die.”

“He also tries to kill human intellect and progress. That man has sowed many seeds of hatred, and we all wish to take part in the harvest.” Draigo smiled at the brain suspended in pale blue electrafluid before closing the last section of the pod. They were ready for launch. “This is your chance.”

* * *

CARRYING THE RESPONSIBILITY of humanity was a burden Manford Torondo did not gladly bear, but he did it nonetheless. What choice did he have?

The current crisis in the Imperium was more than a struggle for resources or territory; it was a war for the human soul. After centuries of enslavement to thinking machines, mankind was free at last, cut loose from the stranglehold of technology. Reborn, they could return to a new Eden—but only if they chose to do so. Unless their own weaknesses destroyed them.

Twisted men like Josef Venport wanted to enslave mankind once more, making the exultant human spirit beholden to machines again! After the end of the Jihad, Rayna Butler—Manford’s beloved mentor and teacher—had guided people along the true path, but such a way was not without violence and resistance, not without those who threw bombs in crowded rallies.…

Swallowing hard as he sat propped up in a cushioned chair late at night, Manford looked down at where his body ended below his hips. The reality of his disfigurement was sometimes shocking to him, even now, years after the explosion that had nearly killed him, leaving him just half a man. “But twice the leader!” as his loyal followers shouted during their rallies.