Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [167]
“I will implement my new mandate. The prophecy is true: I will change the universe. As the ultimate and final Kwisatz Haderach, I know my destiny—as do all of you, for your actions led to this prophecy.” He smiled. “Even yours, Omnius!”
The false old man responded with an annoyed frown. Beside him the robot Erasmus grinned indulgently, waiting to see what the just-hatched superman would do. All of Paolo’s visions of domination, conquest, and perfect control were based on prescience. He harbored no doubts in his mind. Every detail unfolded before him. The young man continued to spew pronouncements.
“Now that I have come into my true powers, there is no need for the thinking-machine fleet to obliterate the human-inhabited planets. I can control them all.” He waved a hand. “Oh, we may have to annihilate a minor world or two to demonstrate our strength—or maybe just because we can—but we will keep alive the vast majority of people, as fodder.”
Paolo gasped as even more ideas flooded into his head, building momentum and power. “Once we have swallowed up Chapterhouse, we will open the Sisterhood’s breeding records. From there, we will implement my master plan of making brilliant, perfect humans, combining whatever traits I choose. Workers and thinkers, drones, engineers, and—occasionally—leaders.” He spun toward the old man. “And you, Omnius, will construct a vast infrastructure for me. If we give our perfect humans too much freedom they’ll mess everything up. We must eliminate the wild, troublesome genetic lines.” He snickered to himself.
“In fact, the Atreides bloodline is the most unmanageable of all, so I shall be the last Atreides. Now that I have arrived, history needs no more of us.” He glanced around, but did not see the man who came to mind. “And all those Duncan Idahos. How tedious they’ve become!”
Paolo was speaking faster and faster, swept along by intoxicating spice visions. The look of confusion on even the Baron’s face made the young man wonder if anyone here could comprehend him any longer. They seemed so primitive to him now. What if his own thoughts were so grand that they were beyond the understanding of the most sophisticated thinking machines? That would really be something!
He began to pace around the chamber, ignoring glares and gestures from the Baron. Gradually Paolo’s motions became jerky, manic. “Yes! The first step is to sweep away the old, mow down and dispense with the outdated and unnecessary. We must clear a path for the new and the perfect. That’s a concept all thinking machines can embrace.”
Erasmus stared at him and mockingly reshaped his flowmetal face into a perfect likeness of the old man that represented Omnius. His expression reflected disbelief, as if he considered Paolo’s pronouncements a joke, the rantings of a deluded child. A flare of anger rose within Paolo. This robot wasn’t taking him seriously!
Paolo saw the whole canvas of the future unrolling before him, broad strokes revealed by the incredible magnifying power of ultraspice. Some of the upcoming events became razor sharp, and he discerned more specifics, intricate details. The super-potent melange was even stronger than he had imagined, and the future became intensely focused in his mind, fractal minutiae unfolding before him in an infinite, yet completely expected, pattern.
In the midst of this mindstorm, something else was unleashed from within his cells: All the memories buried there from his original life. With a roar that briefly drowned out even the other clamoring knowledge, he suddenly remembered everything about Paul Atreides. Though the Baron had raised Paolo and the machines had corrupted him into what they imagined would be their puppet, he was still himself at the core.
He scanned the chamber, viewing everyone from a new perspective: Jessica, dear Chani, and himself lying in a pool of blood, still twitching, gasping a last few breaths. Had he done that—a bizarre form of suicide? No, Omnius had forced him. But how could anyone really force a Kwisatz Haderach to do anything?