Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [182]
“Exactly as we instructed you to do,” Erasmus said, sounding bored with the lecture.
“Exactly as we wished to do!” Khrone snapped back. “Face Dancers are everywhere, a hive mind more advanced than any extrasensory human linkages, more powerful than the network of Omnius. So swiftly and easily we accomplished our aims.”
“And our aims, as well,” Erasmus said.
Galled by the robot’s stubborn refusal to recognize defeat, Khrone felt rage building within him. “Over the centuries, we prepared for the day when we would implement our plan and eliminate Omnius. We never guessed that the Oracle of Time would do it for us.” He chuckled softly. “Your empire has fallen. We have superceded all thinking machines. And now that Omnius’s fleet and plagues have brought humanity to its knees, we can activate our hidden Face Dancer cells—everywhere, simultaneously. We will take control.” He planted his fists on his hips. “It is already over for machines, and for humans.”
Behind him, all the identical Face Dancers wore blank expressions. Khrone’s featureless face had been duplicated many times over.
“An interesting and insidious plan,” Erasmus said. “Under other circumstances, I might applaud you for your ingenuity and duplicity.”
“Even if you could rally your robots to kill those of us on Synchrony, it would be of no use. I am reproduced everywhere.” The Face Dancer scoffed. “Omnius thought he was seeding the universe for his own conquest, but the true seeds of his downfall were right under his mechanical nose.”
Erasmus began to laugh. It started as a chuckle that he imitated from an ages-old dataset, and he added components sifted from other recordings. The resultant sounds were quite enjoyable to himself, and he was sure they were convincing to the others.
Over his long, long lifetime, the unusual robot had expended a great deal of effort in studying humans and their emotions. Laughter particularly intrigued him. An early step, which had required centuries of deep thought, had been to understand the concept of humor, to learn what circumstances might elicit this strange, noisy response from a human. In the process, he had compiled a library of his favorite laughter samples. A delightful repertoire.
He played them all now through his mouth speakers, much to the bewilderment of the Face Dancer Khrone. But Erasmus realized that not even these favorite chuckles, snickers, and guffaws were adequate to express the true hilarity that he currently felt.
“What is so funny?” Khrone demanded. “Why are you laughing?”
“I am laughing because even you don’t understand the trick that was played on you.” Erasmus chuckled again, and this time he created a unique sound that contained flavors and undertones of his best borrowed recordings. This was truly his individual sense of humor, something genuinely original. After such long and difficult study, Erasmus was pleased with the new comprehension he had achieved. Surely this was worth all the tribulations of Kralizec!
The independent robot turned to Duncan Idaho, who—after listening to the betrayals upon betrayals—had the faraway look of a man trying to join mismatched puzzle pieces. Erasmus knew that Duncan hadn’t the faintest idea of how to achieve his full potential. Just like so many other humans! The robot would have to guide this one.
Ignoring Khrone, he spoke to Duncan. “I am laughing because the inherent differences between humans and Face Dancers are painfully hilarious. I hold great fondness for your species—as more than specimens, more than pets. You have never ceased to astonish me. In defiance of my most careful predictions, you still manage to do the unexpected! Even when those actions work to the detriment of thinking machines, I can appreciate them for their uniqueness.”
Khrone and his contingent of Face Dancers closed in, as if expecting to mop up these few robots and humans easily. “Your words and laughter are meaningless.