Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [178]
Then she uprooted herself from reality and vanished into the incomprehensible void, taking with her all traces of Omnius.
Forever.
You see enemies everywhere, but I see only obstacles—and I know what to do with obstacles. Either move them or crush them, so that we can be on our way.
—MOTHER COMMANDER MURBELLA,
address to the combined Sisterhood
Even after the Navigators destroyed the bulk of the Enemy fleet in a flurry of unexpected Obliterators, a second wave of machine ships advanced toward Chapterhouse.
The Oracle, upon locating Duncan Idaho and the lost no-ship, had promptly taken most of her Heighliners to Synchrony, only assigning a small percentage to aid in the defenses of other human-inhabited planets. With the outcome of those missions unknown, some or all of the other planets could still be vulnerable. One thing was certain: At Chapterhouse, Murbella and her defenders faced the remaining machine ships alone. Through it all, the Mother Commander didn’t have much time to process her shock at discovering that Duncan was still alive.
Administrator Gorus groaned. “Will they never stop?”
“No.” Murbella scowled at him for forcing her to state the obvious. “They are thinking machines.”
High over the Bene Gesserit world, her hundred last-stand vessels hung surrounded by the debris from thousands of destroyed machine battleships. This fight had inflicted a substantial toll on the Enemy, but unfortunately it was not enough.
The new wave of Omnius vessels would not thumb their noses at the human defenders, as the first had. Murbella expected no mercy this time and didn’t have much hope for the last-stand ships at other strategic points, either. The machines intended to annihilate Chapterhouse and every other world that stood in their way.
She cursed the clumsy, uncooperative Guild vessels that the Junction shipyards had produced and the worthless weapons the Ixians had supplied. She had to think of something on her own. “I won’t just let our ships sit here with their throats bared, like lambs waiting for slaughter!”
“The mathematical compilers controlled our foldspace guidance and standard—”
She shouted at Gorus. “Rip out those damned navigation devices—we’ll maneuver our vessels by hand!”
“But we will not know where we are going. We could crash!”
“Then we must crash into the Enemy, instead of each other.” She wondered if the machines would feel a need for vengeance when they saw the wreckage of the first wave. Honored Matres certainly would.
The Enemy kept coming. Murbella studied the complex tactical projections. Surely they did not need such a vast number of vessels to conquer the minimally inhabited Chapterhouse. It seemed obvious that the evermind had learned the value of intimidation and showmanship, as well as the wisdom of redundancy.
In the Heighliner control center, two Guildsmen argued with Gorus. One claimed that disconnecting the mathematical compiler was impossible, while the other warned that it was unwise. Murbella ended the debate with the compelling power of Bene Gesserit Voice. The Guildsmen shuddered and, unable to resist her, did as she commanded.
Although the machine forces outgunned them by a substantial margin, Murbella did not flinch from what had to be done. Instead, she allowed herself to reawaken her old Honored Matre anger. This was not a time to calculate odds. It was a time to unleash every bit of destruction her people could muster. Their chances were better now than they had been when this last stand began. If they all embraced viciousness and fought like frenzied Honored Matres, they could inflict significant damage. They might still go down in flames, but if they bought sufficient time for the Oracle and her Navigators to defeat Omnius, Murbella would count it a victory. She just wished she could have seen Duncan one more time.
Murbella turned toward the broad projection plate that magnified the oncoming vessels. “Arm all weaponry and stand ready to ram. The moment we deplete conventional armaments, our own ships will become the