Dune: The Machine Crusade (6 page)

Agamemnon could not control his outburst. “And let them win? After all we have created and accomplished over the past thousand years?”

“What is the significance of a mere millennium?” Omnius asked. “As thinking machines, we have alternatives the humans do not. Our bodies can adapt to environments lethal to biological life-forms. If I simply abandon the
hrethgir
-infested planets, I can exploit the numerous airless moons and rocky planets. Thinking machines will thrive there and expand the Synchronized Worlds without further inconvenience.”

Even Erasmus seemed surprised by the suggestion. “Humans once had a saying, Lord Omnius—’It is better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven.’”

“I serve no one. I am analyzing the ratio of the greatest benefit for the least cost and the smallest risk. According to my projections we can never sufficiently tame our human slaves. Short of complete eradication of the species— which would require a great deal of trouble to accomplish— humans will continue to offer the threat of sabotage and loss of raw materials.”

Agamemnon said fervently, “Lord Omnius, is it a victory to command territory that no one wants? If you abandon all planets that we once ruled, you are admitting failure. You would be the King of Inconsequence. It is folly.”

Omnius was not incensed. “I am interested in expansion and efficiency, not in archaic, grandiose notions. The propaganda distributed by Serena Butler has made me question the basis of my rule. I do not know how to control the inaccurate information coming in from the outside. Why do slaves believe such statements without supporting data?”

Erasmus said, “Because humans have a tendency to believe what they want to believe, based upon
feelings,
not evidence. Witness their scurrying paranoia, looking into every shadowy corner and behind every curtain because they fear that countless machine spies and infiltrators are in their midst. I realize we have managed to slip a few of our trustees into League-controlled worlds, but the paranoid humans have convinced themselves that most of their neighbors are secretly in league with Omnius. Such baseless fears cause harm only to themselves.”

Juno chuckled, and Xerxes made an exaggerated scornful sound at the gullibility and weakness of the
hrethgir
.

“Back to the point at hand,” Agamemnon said, scraping a sharp metal foreleg against the flagstones. “You can blame Erasmus for triggering this destructive rebellion. His experimental manipulations created the conditions that sparked the initial uprising on Earth.”

Erasmus turned to the powerful cymek walker. “Without the Earth-Omnius update, General, one can never be certain. However, you are not blameless in this. One of the greatest jihadi soldiers is your own son, Vorian Atreides.”

Agamemnon simmered with anger. He remembered having high hopes for his thirteenth and last son, and how he had killed twelve previous children upon discovering their serious deficiencies. Now, all of Agamemnon’s irreplaceable stored sperm had been destroyed in the atomic attack on Earth. He took it very personally, an assault on his family.

Vorian had been his final hope, but had turned out to be his greatest shame instead.

Omnius said, “There is enough blame for everyone who wishes to accept it. I have no interest in such irrelevant diversions.”

Juno’s voice was deep and slippery. “Lord Omnius, for centuries we Titans have wanted to crush the feral humans, but were never granted permission to do so.”

“Perhaps that will change,” the evermind said.

Agamemnon spoke emotionally. “At this moment, my son is with the Army of the Jihad holding off machine forces on IV Anbus. Allow me to lead a cymek fighting group, and I will hunt down my rebellious offspring.”

Omnius agreed. “The fight on IV Anbus wastes much time and energy. I had expected a simple victory. See that it is accomplished, General Agamemnon. Also dispatch one of your Titans to Ix to quash the trouble there. Eliminate both problems quickly and efficiently.”

“I volunteer to go to Ix, Lord Omnius,” Xerxes said quickly. Apparently, he imagined that smashing a few disorganized rebels would be easier and safer than facing the Army of the Jihad. “Provided I can have full military support? I would also like to have Beowulf as my general—”

“Beowulf goes with us,” Agamemnon said, primarily to thwart Xerxes. Beowulf was one of the first new-generation cymeks, created by Barbarossa more than a century after the computer evermind took over. As a human, Beowulf had been a collaborator with the cymeks, a trustee warlord on a secondary planet. He had proved himself immensely capable and ambitious and had been ecstatic when given the opportunity to become a cymek.

The Titan general did not really need Beowulf, but was glad not to have cowardly Xerxes along. With Juno and Dante, he could recruit scores of reliable neo-cymeks as well as robotic military forces to augment the machine battle groups already at IV Anbus. Even so, defeating Vorian Atreides would not be easy.

Agamemnon had trained his son well.

W
hen the Jihad fleet passed over the enemy landing site on IV Anbus, they dropped a meteor shower of disruptor units. From his orbiting ballista, young Vergyl Tantor whooped with bravado when initial scans showed the vanguard of robotic ground forces reeling, brought to their metal knees, their gelcircuitry scrambled.

Upon returning from the city of Darits, Xavier Harkonnen had changed into a crisp new green-and-crimson uniform that bore the impressive marks of his primero rank. He still felt soiled from arguing with the stubborn Zenshiite elders. Now, while dispatching the next wave of troops and equipment to the surface, he looked like the very ideal of a commanding officer.

A shuttle full of eager Ginaz mercenaries— the best fighters money could buy— soared down to the machine base camp and covered the assigned ground area, wielding pulse swords, scrambler grenades, and slaggers. Zon Noret’s professional combat experts took less than an hour to eradicate the enemy’s half-completed base, destroying the last functional robots. The machines had not expected such swift and overwhelming resistance.

As he stood on the bridge of his flagship, Xavier wore an expression of pleased satisfaction. “This is a setback for the enemy, but don’t believe for a minute that it’ll stop them.”

Vor lounged next to his friend. “Since they’re not smart enough to know when to give up, we’ll just have to convince them.”

Huddled over papers and maps in analysis rooms aboard the flagship, diligent Jihad tacticians studied the dispersal of machine strength, to determine Omnius’s plan for seizing IV Anbus. Apparently, even with their initial beachhead knocked out, the machines planned to land an overwhelming force and launch a ground-based invasion that would surely capture the planet.

In the war room, the two primeros laid out the projected path along which the invaders would have marched. Xavier waited for his dark-haired comrade. “Well, does it make any sense to you? What are the machines trying to do?”

Vor pushed some strands of long hair out of his eyes. “As with most everything the thinking machines do, their plan is straightforward and obvious, utilizing massive force and no subtlety.” He pursed his lips, pointing to the tactical projections that had been delivered to them from the analysis rooms. “See, the robot fleet has enough firepower that they could simply bombard IV Anbus and wipe out all the Zenshiite cities. Easy enough. But it looks like Omnius wants to keep the infrastructure of Darits and the other cities intact for a more efficient conversion into a full-fledged Synchronized World. It’s primitive compared to what they would normally install, but the machines can adapt.”

Xavier looked at him grimly. “And that requires more work for them than just blasting everything into dust.”

“Of course, if it takes too long, they’ll just go back to the original plan. My guess is we don’t have much time. We’ve stalled them long enough here.”

Xavier traced his finger along the feathery gorges displayed on the satellite images. “If the combat robots intend to use an overwhelming ground force to take over Darits, the hydroelectric generating station, and the communications grid, then the machines will likely sweep down the canyons here. Once they’re inside the cliff city, they will install the usual copy of Omnius.”

He turned back to studying the satellite maps. “So what do you propose, Vorian? Even with all the Ginaz mercenaries, we don’t have sufficient military strength to face off against a full robotic ground assault. Our fighters are not all expendable.”

“With Omnius, we can’t simply pit brute force against brute force. We need to do something
cunning
,” Vor said with a smile. “The thinking machines should be completely confused.”

“Oh? Like your mad shadow fleet under construction at Poritrin? I still don’t think that will work.”

Vor chuckled. He preferred to defeat the robotic enemy through devious means, as a trickster, than through outright military engagements… not because he necessarily believed it to be more effective, but because he wanted to minimize the cost in human lives. “So, I’ve always got a plan up my sleeve, Xavier, and I’ve almost completed my computer virus against the warships here. I’ll take care of the machine battle vessels in space. You deal with the ground forces.”

“And how am I supposed to do that without using ‘overwhelming force’?”

Vor already had his answer ready. “Transmit a message to our fleet instructing them to withdraw our planetside military forces. Say that it’s because we believe the thinking machines will attack from space.”

Xavier’s expression of disbelief almost made the other primero chuckle. “The machines aren’t so foolhardy as to believe that, Vorian. Even a robot can detect an obvious ruse.”

“Not if you encode the transmission. Use your most complex mathematical cipher. The robots will break it, I guarantee. That will make them believe what they hear.”

“Your father has twisted your mind.” Xavier said, shaking his head. “But I’m glad you’ve turned it to the benefit of the Jihad. If we can’t stop the thinking machines from installing their Omnius here…” His stiff posture implied that he felt the full burden on his own shoulders. “Well, let us just say that I’ll level every structure on IV Anbus before I allow such a defeat. The entire League of Nobles is at stake.” Xavier sighed, rubbed his temples. “Why won’t Rhengalid work with us? We can save their people and meet our own objectives at the same time.”

Vor gave him a commiserating grin. “The Zenshiites see enemies everywhere, but are incapable of recognizing friends.” He had tried to see the matter from the Buddislamic point of view, playing devil’s advocate to Xavier’s unwavering convictions, but their reasons made no logical sense. “I guess after being brought up by the thinking machines, I just don’t understand religion.”

Xavier looked up from the tactical projections, raising his eyebrows. “We don’t have the luxury of ‘understanding’ them, Vorian. Such subtleties are for politicians in plush offices, far from the battlefield. The Zenshiites’ choice here has repercussions for all of humanity. Much as I’d like to just leave them all to their fates, we can’t allow it. IV Anbus must not become another stepping-stone for Omnius.”

Vor clapped him on the shoulder, glad he never had to bluff or face down that stony expression across a gambling table. “You are a hard man, Xavier Harkonnen.”

“Serena’s Jihad has made me one.”

AFTER STUDYING DETAILED terrain overlays, Xavier selected a pair of strategic Zenshiite towns as his troops’ bases. The nondescript settlements were in perfect position for the jihadis to set up an ambush against the wave of machine forces that would trample the landscape on their way toward the city of Darits. The Army of the Jihad had sent down their heaviest artillery and projectile hardware to be installed and camouflaged in the native towns.

Much to his delight and pride, Tercero Vergyl Tantor was assigned to oversee operations in the settlement that would encounter the first machine offensive. During recreational hours aboard ship, while he played fast rounds of Fleur de Lys cards with Vorian Atreides, Vergyl often complained that his adoptive brother refused to send him on meaningful missions. This time, though, the dark-skinned, brown-eyed young man had pleaded with Xavier until finally he was put in charge of the initial ambush against the machines.

“Vergyl, that Zenshiite town should have all the raw materials you need to set up your strike. Don’t forget your tactical training.”

“Yes, Xavier.”

“Find a bottleneck where you can hammer the robot armies without exposing yourself to danger. Hit hard, give them everything you have, and then pull back. Tercero Cregh and his troops at the second town will mop up any thinking machines that survive.”

“I understand.”

“We’re also dispatching Ginaz mercenaries to harass any outlying robot forces,” Vor added with a snort. “It’ll be a pleasant change for them from riding around in orbit and pretending to threaten machine warships.”

“And Vergyl,” Xavier said, his voice sterner than ever, “take care of yourself. Your father took me in as an orphan when the machines killed my family. I have no intention of bringing him bad news.”

As Vergyl took his military force into the designated town, he hoped the natives would welcome them. He looked around, judging the mood of the villagers. The Zenshiites, mostly farmers and silt miners who worked the mineral-rich sandbars, stood outside their dwellings and watched with dismay. Transport after transport landed in their fields, disgorging jihadi troops and Ginaz mercenaries. Engineers and weapons specialists removed artillery components while scouts scattered, studying the terrain to find the best emplacements.

Vergyl stepped forward, his expression calm. “We mean you no harm. We are here to protect you from the thinking machines. The enemy is on the way.”