Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [153]
“Only an interpretation,” Jessica said.
“The correct one, though. Right now we are involved in the necessary business of uprooting weeds in a garden—an apt metaphor. The weeds themselves do not appreciate it, and the dirt may be disturbed for some time, but in the end the garden is vastly improved. Machines and humans are but manifestations of a long-standing conflict that your ancient philosophers recorded, the battle between heart and mind.”
Omnius retained his old man form, since he had no other familiar physical manifestation. “Back in the Old Empire, many of your people are trying to make their last stands against us. It is futile, for my Face Dancers have ensured that your weapons will not work. Even your navigation machines are under my control. Already my fleet approaches Chapterhouse.”
“Our ship has had no contact with either the Guild or Chapterhouse since before I was born,” Paul said in a dismissive tone. He pointed to Chani, Jessica, and Yueh, all of those gholas born on the ship in flight. “None of us has ever been in the Old Empire.”
“Then allow me to show you.” With a wave of his hand, the old man displayed a complex holo-image of stars, indicating how far his immense fleet had progressed. Paul was stunned by the scope of the conquest and devastation; he didn’t think the evermind would exaggerate what the machines had done. Omnius didn’t need to. Hundreds of planets had already been destroyed or enslaved.
In a soothing voice, Erasmus said, “Fortunately, the war will soon be over.”
The old man approached Paul. “And now that I have you, there is no question of the outcome. The mathematical projection states that the Kwisatz Haderach will change the battle at the end of the universe. Since I control you and the other one, we will now finish this conflict.”
Erasmus stepped forward to inspect Paul, like a scientist examining a valuable specimen. His optic threads glittered. “We know you have the potential within your genes. The challenge lies in determining which Paul Atreides will be the better Kwisatz Haderach.”
Optimism may be the greatest weapon humanity possesses. Without it, we would never attempt the impossible, which—against all odds—occasionally succeeds.
—MOTHER COMMANDER MURBELLA,
speech to the gathered Sisterhood
Without Obliterators or navigation control, the human warships lay like white-bellied victims on sacrificial altars, all across the last-stand line they had drawn.
Aboard her flagship, Mother Commander Murbella shouted orders, while Guild Administrator Gorus demanded miracles from his underlings. Watching the screens on the navigation bridge, Murbella saw thinking-machine battleships cruise past the Sisterhood’s pitiful vessels on their way to destroy Chapterhouse. Similar non-battles must be occurring at the hundred flashpoints across the front lines, key human-inhabited systems now completely vulnerable to the coup de grace. The gamble had failed, utterly.
Weighing heavily on Murbella’s mind was her responsibility to humanity, the rest of the Sisterhood . . . and her long-lost Duncan. Was he still alive, and did he even remember her? It had been almost twenty-five years. Murbella had to do this—for him, for herself, or for all those who had survived thus far in the epic war.
Without letting instinctive Honored Matre rage control her actions, Murbella whirled toward Gorus. She grabbed the front of the Administrator’s loose robe and shook him so that his pale braid whipped his face. “What other weapons do your Guildships have?”
“A few projectiles, Mother Commander. Energy weapons. Standard offensive artillery—but that would be suicide! Only the Obliterators could have made it possible for our ships to deal a mortal blow against the Enemy!”
In disgust, she cast him away, so that he stumbled backward and fell to the deck. “This is already a suicide mission! How dare you cringe now, when we have no alternative?”
“But . . . but, Mother Commander—it would waste our fleet, our lives!”
“Obviously, heroism is not your strong suit.” She turned to a meek-looking