Mentats of Dune

She was about to ask Erasmus to save her when in her mind she heard a roar of whispering voices from generations of women, all long dead. They surged into her thoughts like a school of telepathic fish, showing her what Erasmus could not. Her muscles acted of their own accord, like loaded springs.

She ripped her arm free of the man’s grasp. Moving as if another person were controlling her body, A

In her ear, Erasmus said, “Allow me.”

A wash of blue electricity exploded through the water, like an aurora distilled into the marsh. The Butlerian man jittered, convulsed, and fell backward into the water, belly-up like the fish.

“We need to keep moving,” said the Erasmus voice in her ear. “Let me direct you now. My peripheral spy-eyes have detected an unexpected visitor who can aid us in our escape.”

A

IT WAS STILL dark, shortly before dawn, when Anari Idaho entered the tent. The three dead guards had been taken away, the gash in the fabric of the back wall stitched shut. Eight Butlerian guards now replaced the ones Draigo had killed, even though Gilbertus showed no inclination to escape.

“When the sun rises, Headmaster, you will meet your death at the blade of my sword,” she said. “It was wise and honorable of you not to flee when you had the chance.”

“I made a promise,” he said. “I explained that to my well-intentioned student who tried to rescue me.”

“He murdered three of the faithful. He is marked for death as well.” Anari’s face darkened. “We will hunt him down and kill him.”

“I don’t think so.” He had faith that Draigo would carry out his mission; Gilbertus had gambled everything on that hope.

Anari waited in heavy silence for a long moment, but didn’t argue with him. “Leader Torondo knows who and what you are. He will never rescind your sentence.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to. He is a man of clear-cut convictions. He follows a path that allows no room for learning or growth, to his detriment.”

“He follows a holy path. I came to tell you to prepare yourself.”

Gilbertus was relaxed, calm. He had meditated for hours and visited his Memory Vault that held all the bright spots of his life. “You’re the one who is about to kill a man. Shouldn’t you prepare yourself?”

“I am merely meting out justice. My sword is sharp. What more do I need to prepare?”

Gilbertus found it amusing. “And my mind is sharp. What more do I need to prepare?”

Flustered, Anari shook her head. “You were raised among the demon machines. They made you strange.”

She left the prisoner tent, and Gilbertus returned to his meditation. Curiously, he found that he was able to focus better than he ever had in his life, and he understood why. He needed to cram all of his important thoughts into very little time.

AFTER TRYING TO rescue Headmaster Albans, Draigo spent most of the darkness eluding the Butlerian hunters. They chased after noises in the swamps — but he hardly made any sound at all. The hunting parties shouted back and forth, so that he knew exactly where they were. Overanxious for revenge, they blundered along, and the Mentat easily eluded them.

Still, he felt an emptiness in his chest. This wasn’t sport. The Headmaster’s life was on the line … and he had refused to be saved! If what Gilbertus said was true — that the Erasmus memory core still existed, and A

It was nearly dawn by the time he circled back toward the besieged school complex. He made his way through the sangrove swamps, threading the safe path through the hazards.

He was astonished when, out of the underbrush, A

After listening to the young woman rattle off the résumé of his life, Draigo said, “I came here to rescue the Headmaster, but he refused to accompany me. Instead, he made me promise to find you and … a thinking machine.”

A

“My ship can take you far from Lampadas, where you will be safe.”

“Erasmus, too?” She self-consciously touched a bulge in her blouse. “Don’t take us to Salusa Secundus, though. Salvador will destroy Erasmus because he does whatever the Butlerians tell him to.”

“I have no intention of letting that robot memory core come to harm, and I won’t let you become a hostage to the Butlerians either,” Draigo said. “You should no longer be a pawn, A

“No one can know,” A

“No one will know. I promised Headmaster Albans.”

As dawn brightened the sky, Draigo led her and her precious package out of the swamps, away from the Mentat School, to his hidden ship.

THE SUNSHINE FELT bright and warm on Gilbertus’s face as the guards led him out of the prisoner tent. Lampadas had a yellow-white sun, and even though he had lived here for decades, the daylight still felt wrong to him. He’d been born under the bloated crimson sun of Corrin, a red giant whose light was so harsh that Erasmus had made him wear eye protection. Other slaves who worked outdoors went blind before they grew old … but in Erasmus’s pens few human captives ever grew old.

Manford Torondo did Gilbertus a kindness by not binding his hands, and Anari Idaho did not manhandle him as he emerged into the central camp. Gilbertus showed no fear. He knew his students would be watching from the observation platforms, and he only hoped that the spectacle of his execution would provide enough of a distraction that Draigo could get A

He had no idea what sort of plan Draigo might develop. That was out of his hands. Erasmus would also understand the danger they faced. But A

Deacon Harian and Sister Woodra stood at the edge of a cleared area in full view of the walled school complex. Gilbertus looked up, although the sun dazzled his eyes. He saw figures up on the school walls and observation decks.

The Butlerians had brought out a special chair from the headquarters tent, and Manford Torondo sat upon it, looking like a king on a little throne.

Gilbertus halted before the Butlerian leader, who had been propped up so that their eyes were at the same level. Manford said, “Even though I am saddened by your behavior and I feel betrayed by you, Gilbertus Albans, I still see the Headmaster of this school and the Mentat who helped me accomplish good things for the Butlerian cause.”