Sandworms of Dune - Brian Herbert [192]
“You have an abundance of questions,” Duncan observed.
“And it is up to you to choose the single answer. I gave you what you need.” Erasmus stood back and waited.
Duncan felt a new sense of urgency, perhaps imparted to him by Erasmus. Possibilities roiled through his head, accompanied by a riptide of consequences. With his growing awareness he saw that in order to end Kralizec, he needed to stop the eons-old schism that separated man and machine. Thinking machines had originally been created by man, but though intertwined, each side had tried repeatedly to destroy the other. He had to find a common ground between them, rather than let one dominate the other.
Duncan saw the great historical arc, a social evolution of epic proportions. Thousands of years ago, Leto II had joined himself with a great sandworm, thereby acquiring vastly greater powers for himself. Centuries later, under the guidance of Murbella, two opposing groups of women had joined forces, fusing their individual cultures into a stronger synthesized unit. Even Erasmus and Omnius had been two aspects of the same identity, creativity and logic, curiosity and rigid facts.
Duncan saw that balance was required. Human heart and machine mind. What he had received from Erasmus could become a weapon, or a tool. He had to use it properly.
I must serve as a synthesis of man and machine.
He locked gazes with Erasmus, and this time he and the robot connected without making physical contact. Somehow the Kwisatz Haderach retained a ghost image of Erasmus within himself, just as Reverend Mothers carried Other Memories inside.
Drawing a deep breath, Duncan faced the overwhelming question. “When you and Omnius manifested yourselves as an old couple, you demonstrated the differences between you. Erasmus, while maintaining your own independence, you acquired the evermind’s vast store-house of data, the intellect, while Omnius in turn learned about heart from you, what it means to have human feelings—curiosity, inspiration, mystery. But even you never fully achieved all the aspects of humanity you sought.”
“But now I can. With your consent, of course.”
Duncan turned to face Paul and the others. “After the Butlerian Jihad, human civilization went too far by completely banning artificial intelligence. But in forbidding any sort of computers, we humans denied ourselves valuable tools. That overreaction created an unstable situation. History has shown that such absolute, draconian prohibitions cannot be sustained.”
Jessica said skeptically, “Yet eradicating computers for so many generations forced us to grow stronger and become independent. For thousands of years, humanity advanced without artificial constructions to think and decide for us.”
“As the Fremen learned to live on Arrakis,” Chani said with clear pride. “It is a good thing.”
“Yes, but that backlash also tied our hands and prevented us from reaching other potentials. Just because a man’s legs will grow stronger by walking, should we deny him a vehicle? Our memory improves through steady practice; should we therefore deny ourselves the means to write or record our thoughts?”
“No need to throw the baby out with the bathwater, to use one of your ancient clichés,” Erasmus said. “I threw a baby off a balcony once. The consequences were extreme.”
“We didn’t do without machines,” Duncan said, crystallizing his thoughts. “We just redefined them. Mentats are humans whose minds are trained to function like those of machines. Tleilaxu Masters used female bodies as axlotl tanks—flesh