Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [181]
Erasmus examined his body core and his robes to ensure his appearance, then looked up with a broad smile. “I think we just might have a meeting of the minds—something I never really achieved with Omnius.”
When the time comes for our Great Unmasking, our foes will be surprised by what has been disguised in front of them since the very beginning.
—KHRONE,
communiqué to Face Dancers
Now that the Oracle was gone, several of the Navigators’ giant Heighliners overhead folded space and disappeared from Synchrony without explanations or farewells.
Throughout the city, sandworms continued to destroy the living metal buildings. Because Omnius had never allowed them autonomy, the robotic defenders were unable to function effectively without connecting to the evermind. The vaulted hall filled with resounding silence.
Then with a loud crash, the high doors swung open. Dressed in black and followed by a throng of Face Dancers, Khrone marched in from the bright machine streets. Identical, blank-faced drones swarmed into the room. Scytale’s poison gas had killed some of the shape-shifters, but many had avoided the battle entirely.
Out in the sprawling machine city, countless Face Dancers had pretended to stand against the rampaging sandworms, but secretly melted away from the barricades the robotic soldiers had set up. Khrone had taken pleasure in watching the worms destroy the great flowmetal buildings, smashing thousands of thinking machines. Clearing the way. Making our job easier.
Khrone offered a skeletal smile as he swept forward. “I never cease to be entertained by the erroneous deductions of those who think they control us.” In his mind, a Face Dancer victory was now assured.
“Explain yourself, Khrone.” Erasmus seemed only mildly curious.
Ignoring the humans and their dead, Khrone faced the independent robot, who stood by Duncan Idaho. “This war has been in process for five thousand years. It was never Omnius’s idea, anyway.”
“Oh, our war has been building for far longer than that,” Erasmus pointed out. “We escaped after the Battle of Corrin fifteen thousand years ago.”
“I’m referring to a completely different war, Erasmus—one you never realized was taking place. From the moment the first advanced Face Dancers were dispatched by our creator, Hidar Fen Ajidica, we began our manipulations. When we encountered your thinking-machine empire, we allowed you to create more and more of us. Yet the moment Omnius let us in, the Face Dancers became his true masters! We shared with you all the lives we had gathered, letting you believe you were becoming increasingly superior to us and to humans. But we Face Dancers were in control all along.”
“There is a diagnosis for your mental condition,” Dr. Yueh said boldly. “You have delusions of grandeur.”
Khrone’s lips peeled back from blunt, perfect teeth. “My statements, based as they are on accurate information, can hardly be called delusions.”
The amused expression on Erasmus’s face did not change. Khrone found it maddening, so he raised his voice, “You thinking machines helped us implement our Face Dancer plans, all the while believing that we served you. But it was exactly the opposite. You were, in fact, our tools.”
“All machines began as tools,” Duncan pointed out, looking from Erasmus to the Face Dancer leader.
Khrone was not impressed. So this was the man who had revealed himself as the final Kwisatz Haderach? Nor could he understand why the independent robot was not more upset, since he prided himself on employing his artificial emotions.
Khrone continued. “Under your guidance, Erasmus, biological facilities run by thinking machines manufactured millions of enhanced Face Dancers. At first, we ventured into human society as scouts, swiftly infiltrating the fringes of the Scattering, and then the Old Empire.