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The robot's voice hardened. "Be reasonable. Or should I decapitate a few of your fellow passengers to encourage your cooperation? Ask Serena Butler inside you--she knows I will do it."
Sheeana glared at him.
The robot continued in a calm tone, "But a simple conversation with you in your quarters may slake my appetite for now. Wouldn't you prefer that to carnage?"
Motioning for the others to remain behind, Sheeana turned her back on the robot and walked to one of the still-functional lifts. With gliding footsteps, Erasmus followed.
In her chamber, the robot was intrigued by the preserved Van Gogh painting. Cottages at Cordeville was one of the oldest artifacts of human civilization. Standing rigidly, Erasmus admired the artwork. "Ah, yes! I remember this clearly. I painted it myself."
"It is the work of a nineteenth-century Terran artist, Vincent Van Gogh."
"I have studied the Madman of France with great interest, but I assure you, this is actually one of the canvases I myself painted thousands of years ago. I copied the original with the utmost attention to detail."
She wondered if he could possibly be telling the truth.
Erasmus removed the delicate painting from the wall and examined it closely, passing his metal fingertips over the thin plaz that protected the rough oil-paint surface. "Yes, well do I remember each stroke, each whorl, each point of color. Truly, this is a work of genius."
Sheeana caught her breath, knowing how old and priceless it was. Unless it really was a forgery perpetrated long ago. "The original was a work of genius. If this is what you say, then all you did was copy someone else's masterpiece. There can be only one original."
His optic threads gleamed like a galaxy of stars. "If it is the same, exactly the same, then both are works of genius. If my copy is perfect down to every single brushstroke, does it not become a second original?"
"Van Gogh was a man of creativity and inspiration. You merely mimicked his work. You might as well call a Face Dancer a work of art."
Erasmus smiled. "Some of them are."
Abruptly, with powerful hands, the robot ripped the painting and its frame into tiny pieces. As if putting a punctuation mark on the grotesque display, Erasmus whirled and stomped on the broken pieces, saying, "Call this artistic temperament." Moving to depart, he added, "Omnius will summon your Kwisatz Haderach soon. We have waited a long time for this."
What is the difference between data and memory? I intend to find out.
--ERASMUS,
Laboratory Notebooks
The independent robot's memories of Serena were as fresh as if the events had occurred only days ago. Serena Butler . . . such a fascinating woman. And just as Erasmus had survived through the millennia as a package of data nearly destroyed and then recovered, so Serena's memories and personality lived on, somehow, in the Other Memories of the Bene Gesserit.
This posed an intriguing question: No Bene Gesserits could be Serena Butler's direct descendants, for Erasmus had killed her only child. Then again, he couldn't be sure what had happened to all of his experimental clones over the years. He had tried many times to bring Serena back, with no success.
Aboard this no-ship, however, the humans had grown gholas from their past, just as his own plan had brought back Baron Harkonnen and a version of Paul Atreides. Erasmus knew that a nullentropy tube hidden in a Tleilaxu Master had contained a wealth of ancient and carefully gathered cells.
He was confident that a real Tleilaxu Master could succeed in bringing Serena back, where his own primitive experiments had failed. Erasmus and Omnius had both absorbed enough Face Dancers to have instinctive reverence for the abilities of a Master. The independent robot knew exactly where he had to go before leaving the no-ship.
Erasmus found the medical center and the axlotl chambers where the whole library of historical cells had been catalogued and stored. If Serena Butler was among them . . .
He was surprised to find a Tleilaxu already there, harried and frantic. The diminutive man had disconnected the life-support systems of the axlotl tanks. With his olfactory sensors, Erasmus noted the smells of chemicals, melange precursors, and human flesh.
He grinned. "You must be Scytale, the Tleilaxu Master! It's been a long time."
Scytale whirled, looking fearful at the sight of the robot.
Erasmus took a step closer, and studied the Tleilaxu's face. "A child? What are you doing?"
The Tleilaxu drew himself up. "I am destroying the tanks and the melange they produce. I had to surrender that knowledge as a bargaining chip. I won't let thinking machines and traitorous Face Dancers simply take it from me--from us."
Erasmus showed no concern for the sabotaged axlotl tanks. "But you appear to be very young."
"I am a ghola. I have my memories back. I am everything that any of my previous incarnations were."
"Of course you are. Such a marvelous process, perpetuating yourself through serial ghola lives. We machines understand such things, although we have much more efficient methods of performing data transfers and backups." He looked intensely at the genetic library that held the potential ghola cells . . . Serena Butler . . .
Noting the robot's keen interest, the Tleilaxu sprang to stand in front of the sealed wall of specimens. "Beware! The witches placed security sensors on these gene samples to prevent anyone from tampering with or stealing them. The library has a built-in self-destruct system." He narrowed his dark, rodentlike eyes. If this Master was bluffing, he was doing a remarkably convincing job. "I need only yank on a drawer, and this entire cabinet will be flooded with gamma radiation, enough to ionize every single sample."
"Why?" The robot was perplexed. "After the Bene Gesserit took those cells from you and used them for their own purposes? Didn't they force you to cooperate? Would you truly stand on their side?" He extended a platinum hand. "Join us instead. I would greatly reward you for your assistance in growing one particular ghola--"
In a threatening motion, Scytale placed his small hand on one of the many cell containers. Though trembling, he seemed entirely determined. "Yes, I would stand with them. I shall always stand against the thinking machines."
"Interesting. New enemies make unexpected alliances."
The Tleilaxu didn't move. "In the final assessment, we're all humans--and you are not."
Erasmus chuckled. "And what about Face Dancers? They fall between, don't they? These aren't the shape-shifters you produced long ago, but are instead far superior biological machines that I helped create. And because of them, Omnius and I are, in effect, the greatest of all Face Dancers--among many other things."
Scytale didn't move. "Haven't you noticed the Face Dancers are no longer reliable?"
"Ah, but they are reliable to me."
"Are you sure?"
The robot took a tentative step forward, testing. Scytale tensed his fingers on the handle of the sample cabinet. Erasmus amplified his voice. "Stop!" He eased himself backward, giving the Tleilaxu Master more room. There would be plenty of time to return and test Scytale's loyalties. "I leave you to this facility and your cellular samples."
Erasmus had waited more than fifteen thousand years for Serena, and could continue to do so. For now, the robot had to return to the machine cathedral and prepare for the final show. The evermind was not quite so patient to achieve his ultimate goals as Erasmus was.
Come, let us eat and sing together. We will share a drink and laugh at our enemies.
--from an ancient ballad by
GURNEY HALLECK
The computer evermind sent his troops to bring Paul from the Ithaca to the machines' cathedral-like nexus. New-model robotic guards swarmed down the corridors like quicksilver insects. Approaching Paul, one of them said, "Come with us to the primary cathedral."
Chani grabbed his arm and held on, as if she too had sprouted metal hands. "I will not let you go, Usul."
Looking at the inhuman escorts, he said to her, "We can't keep them from taking me."
"Then I shall come with you." He tried to argue with her, but she cut him off. "I am a Fremen woman. Would you try to stop me? You might just as easily fight these machines."
