Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [113]
Each sentient life requires a place of extreme serenity, where the mind may roam afterward in memory and to which the body longs to return.
—ERASMUS,
contemplation notes
Now that you have been among us for more than a year, it is time to show you my special place, Paolo.” The independent robot waved a metal arm, and his majestic robes flowed around him. “And you too, of course, Baron Harkonnen.”
The Baron scowled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Your special place? I’m sure we’ll be charmed by what a robot considers to be a special place.”
During the time that he and Paolo had lived on Synchrony, he’d lost his awe and fear of thinking machines. They seemed plodding and grandiose, full of redundancy and very little impulsivity. Since Omnius thought he needed Paolo, along with the Baron to keep Paolo in line, the two were safe enough. Even so, the Baron felt a need to show some backbone, and turn the circumstances to his own benefit.
Around the interior of the now-familiar cathedral chamber, the walls became a wash of color, as if invisible painters were hard at work. Instead of blank metal and stone surfaces, the murky shades of green and brown sharpened into highly realistic trees and birds. The oppressive ceiling opened to the sky, and peculiar synthesized music began playing. A gemgravel pathway ran through the lush garden with comfortable reclining benches at intermittent intervals. A lily pond appeared on one side.
“My contemplation garden.” Erasmus formed his artificial smile. “I enjoy this place very much. It is special to me.”
“At least the flowers don’t stink.” Paolo ripped up one of the bright chrysanthemums, sniffed it, and discarded it at the side of the path. After a year of constant training, the Baron had finally made the boy’s personality into something he could be proud of.
“This is all lovely,” the Baron said drily. “And utterly pointless.”
Be careful what you say to him, Grandfather, cautioned the Aliavoice within. Don’t get us killed today. It was one of her continual harangues.
“Is something troubling you, Baron?” Erasmus asked. “This should be a place of peace and contemplation.”
See what you’ve done! Get out of my head.
But I’m trapped here with you. You can’t get rid of me. I killed you once with the gom jabbar, and I can do it again with a little careful manipulation.
“I see that you are often plagued by disturbing thoughts.” Erasmus stepped closer. “Would you like me to open your skull and look inside? I could fix the problem.”
Be careful with me, Abomination! I just may take him up on the offer!
He forced a smile as he replied to the independent robot. “I’m just impatient to learn exactly how we can work with Omnius. Your war against humanity has gone on for some time now, and we’ve been your guests for a year. When will we do what you brought us here for?”
Paolo kicked a divot into the gemgravel path. “Yes, Erasmus. When do we get to have fun?”
“Soon enough.” The robot swirled his robes and guided his companions through the garden.
The boy had just passed his eleventh birthday and was developing into a strong young man, well-muscled and highly trained. Thanks to the Baron’s constant influence, virtually all traces of the former Atreides personality had been extinguished. Erasmus himself had supervised Paolo’s vigorous combat training against fighting meks, all to prime him to become the supposed Kwisatz Haderach.
But the Baron still could not fathom why. Why would the machines care about some obscure human religious figure from ancient history?
Erasmus motioned for them to sit on the nearest bench. The synthesized music and birdsong around them grew louder and more energetic until they became intertwined melodies. The robot’s expression shifted once again, as if in reverie. “Is it not beautiful? I composed it myself.”
“Most impressive.” The Baron