Read Dune: The Machine Crusade Online
Authors: Brian Herbert,Kevin J. Anderson
Tags: #Science Fiction
Vor sighed, feeling the tremendous responsibility on his shoulders. He saw himself at a nexus of past and future history, and like his friend he cared nothing for personal glory or blame.
He became aware of Leronica’s presence. Concern and dismay etched her profiled face as she gazed out to sea. “I can’t hold you here, Vor. Go ahead and tend to your emergency.” He saw tears brimming at the edges of her dark brown eyes, though she tried to conceal them. “Come back when you can, as always.”
Off to the side, Quinto Paolo looked nervous and eager to be away, as if he would remain completely adrift until he received a new set of orders.
But Vor stepped closer to this woman who had become his emotional foundation. He cupped her chin in his hand, turning Leronica to gaze at him. “I have done much thinking here. From now on, I need be a human being as well as a soldier. I… want you to come with me.”
The surprise and delight on her face wiped away ten years of age. “But I’m just a poor girl from Caladan. I have no right to be the consort of a great Primero—”
Tenderly, he placed his fingers over her lips. “You are my love, and the mother of my sons.” Vor hesitated, waiting for her to deny what they both knew. He could not look at Estes or Kagin and have any remaining doubt.
She pressed her lips together. “I want the boys to remember Kalem as their father. He sacrificed his life for them, and I will not let you diminish their memories of the man they knew for most of their lives.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Kalem Vazz did what I should have done. He raised them, gave them their moral sense and work ethic. He was there when I wasn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t begin now.” She was breathing hard, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Nodding, he said, “We will raise our sons in the League of Nobles, with every opportunity our civilization has to offer.” His voice filled with emotion, and he drew her closer. “I have a whole galaxy to show you.”
T
en years ago, Marha, Jafar, and all the followers of Selim’s vision abandoned their long-standing settlement and made their pilgrimage deep into the desert, far from the offworld hunters and Naib Dhartha’s betrayers. On that fateful day, Marha— after climbing Needle Rock for a better vantage— had witnessed the end of her husband’s life. But the event was really a beginning, as the great Wormrider allowed himself to become incorporated into the magnificent segmented body of God.
For a decade they had continued Selim’s dream and his mission. Word of the outlaw leader’s incredible fate had spread among the Zensunni settlements of Arrakis, causing hundreds of candidates to seek the isolated hideout and attempt to join the Wormriders.
The stone caves and open dunes of Arrakis formed a shelter instead of a prison. Far back in the shadowed passageway, the wormriders and outlaws had found more Muadru rune designs deeply etched into the cool stone. The symbols reminded Ishmael of the ancient undeciphered writings his grandfather had kept among Sutra parchments at his shack on Harmonthep. Ishmael didn’t know how to interpret the markings, but was certain they carried some message of hope and solidarity.
In the first year, the refugees from Poritrin had learned to live with the Arrakis natives, working side by side with them, assisting in the daily toils of survival. The weakest among them had recovered their strength, and no one complained. After a life of indentured servitude, serving capricious masters in tasks that even machines would have resented, the former slaves were resilient and strong.
Ishmael stood with his surviving people at a large opening that looked out upon the foreboding expanse where no footprints of slavers would ever be seen. It was bright dawn, which Marha told them had been Selim Wormrider’s favorite time of day.
Ishmael’s daughter Chamal looked hopeful and strong, filled with womanhood at the age of twenty-six. She had married again, in the way of the rugged desert people, and had already borne three children. She still carried Rafel in her heart, but every person in Ishmael’s group of refugees had lost family, either back on Poritrin or here on Arrakis. They must all move forward, knowing that this was destined to be their home, now and forever.
Lovely Marha came to stand at Ishmael’s side, gazing with flinty eyes across the desert. He smiled warmly at her, and they remained close, the joining of two peoples. El’hiim, her son be Selim Wormrider, had grown into a fine strong boy, now almost ten years old… and he had learned to be more careful before crawling into unexplored crevices, where black scorpions might lurk.
LESS THAN A year after the refugees had been rescued, Marha had made no secret of the fact that she considered Ishmael a logical choice to succeed Selim. She had been blessed with a healthy and intelligent young son, and by Zensunni custom and the necessities of a difficult nomadic life, the people of Arrakis did not ostracize fatherless children or wives who had lost their husbands.
“I was the Wormrider’s woman,” she had said to him in the protected cave quietness, lifting her chin like a desert princess. The crescent scar on her left eyebrow seemed pale in the shadows. “After Shai-Hulud devoured my husband and the evil Naib Dhartha, my obvious choice for a new partner should have been Jafar, who was Selim’s second in command. But…”
She looked away, then back to Ishmael. “Jafar reveres Selim’s legendary memory, and is intimidated in his shadow. He has not said so, but I sense that he feels it would be some kind of… sacrilege if he took me as his wife. The other men worshipped Selim, too, followed him like a prophet. They honor his memory, the traditions he established, and they treat me as if I were some kind of untouchable goddess.” Marha touched his arm. “A person cannot live like that, Ishmael.”
He looked at her. “And since I am a comparative stranger, you believe I am not stifled by those expectations?”
“You are a leader of your own people, a man who commands their respect, who is fair and firm and not afraid to stand by his convictions. You are a rock, not a soft dune to be reshaped by every errant breeze.”
He frowned. “You ask me to forget my other wife.”
Marha shook her head. “I ask you to forget nothing. Nor will I ever forget My first husband. We both have our pasts, Ishmael… and our futures. We are stronger together.”
Her words frightened him, but Ishmael recognized the truth in her words. “You have given me a heavy burden to bear.” She stood very close to him, so that he felt intoxicated by her sharp intelligence and beauty.
She shrugged, then kissed his rough cheek. “We all bear burdens, do we not?”
And so they wed each other, and worked together to lead the growing band of outlaws in their continued effort to stifle the hemorrhaging flow of melange from Arrakis. All of them swore to defend Shai-Hulud and prevent the taking of spice.
NOW, AFTER SUMMONING his bandits to join him at the cave opening, Ishmael stared at these people who had followed him over such a great distance, and the others who had accepted him as the successor to Selim Wormrider. Behind him on the sands, the new day grew warmer.
Selim had experienced many visions, receiving flashes of the future through his connection to the great Shai-Hulud, through a conduit of potent melange. Ishmael, though, had no such reliable source to guide him in his decisions. He had to study the Koran Sutras and all the other scriptures, hoping he could properly determine the will of God. At times, Ishmael often found time alone in the darkest hours of night to quietly scan the infinite desert as if he could see the future out there, somewhere….
As the sun crept up the rugged cliffside, he inhaled a deep breath of dry air, and felt its harshness. Arrakis was far more inhospitable than Poritrin or Harmonthep— but this was his new home, a place where he could live away from the threats of slavers and thinking machines, and even away from the League of Nobles.
With a smile, Ishmael looked around, from face to face. “We can live on this world as we choose, making our own lives and future. We shall never be slaves again!” He sighed with immense pride, and added, “From this day forward we shall call ourselves the
Free Men
of Arrakis.”
201 BG (Before Guild)— Serena Butler’s son murdered by Erasmus.
200 League Armada retaliates by deploying waves of atomics on Earth to destroy Omnius.
198 First organized attack of the Army of the Jihad, after the Victory on Earth. Jihadis select a target at random, the Synchronized World of Bela Tegeuse, and go out with much fanfare. Vorian Atreides distinguishes himself in battle. Despite incredible destruction of robots and humans, the skirmish is inconclusive. The human forces retreat.
197 Realizing that the entire character of the war has changed, the Corrin-Omnius responds, sending another heavy fleet to Salusa Secundus, but the Army of the Jihad rebuffs them. Segundo Xavier Harkonnen feels this is a vindication for him, a rematch after the Battle of Zimia, where he was badly injured years before.
Vorian Atreides returns to Bela Tegeuse to see what has happened in the year following the skirmish and discovers that the thinking machines have rebuilt their industries and reestablished their base, as if nothing has happened there. Despite all the struggle and loss of human life, the Jihad has made no progress.
196 Vorian Atreides is promoted to Segundo, First Grade.
Norma Cenva modifies Holtzman’s shields to partially address the serious problem of overheating during a battle engagement. Thermal breakdowns remain a flaw, but the new shields are significantly improved over the original versions.
195 Honru Massacre. In a major offensive, the Army of the Jihad attempts to free the captive population from the Synchronized World of Honru, but are misled about the number of machine forces waiting for them. Omnius uses more aggressive tactics, suicide robot ships that wipe out the whole Jihad fleet. Over five hundred thousand free human soldiers are killed.
194 After the Honru Massacre, Grand Patriarch Iblis Ginjo and Priestess of the Jihad Serena Butler beg for more volunteers to join the fight. Iblis Ginjo suspects that traitorous spies purposely transmitted the disinformation about the machine strengths on Honru. He establishes an investigation team to look into the matter, led by Yorek Thurr.
In the urgent call for new jihadi soldiers after Honru, Segundo Xavier Harkonnen’s adopted brother Vergyl Tantor, only seventeen, gets into the Army of the Jihad.
193 “Jipol” (Jihad Police) officially established after Yorek Thurr submits his report, which suggests the prevalence of other machine spies among the League Worlds, deceitful humans who swear allegiance to Omnius.
In a political marriage to increase his power base, Iblis Ginjo marries Camie Boro, descendant of the last emperor who ruled before the Time of Titans, more than a thousand years earlier.
192 Ginaz mercenaries offer their services to the fight as independent warriors, not as ranking soldiers in the Jihad Army. After much discussion about the implications, Grand Patriarch Ginjo suggests they be accepted. Other planets offer mercenaries, though the Ginaz fighters are generally considered to be best.
Savant Tio Holtzman offers a “flicker and fire” technique for his shields, a carefully choreographed system that shuts off the protective fields for a fraction of a second, just long enough to allow Jihad ships to fire. Norma Cenva quietly modifies and corrects his calculations, averting disaster, but does not tell him what she has done.
191 Major purge, seven League representatives— all of them political rivals or people who have spoken out against Iblis Ginjo— implicated as machine spies. Yorek Thurr interrogates them. Grand Patriarch Ginjo creates the “Seraphim” to protect Serena Butler, a set of fanatically loyal female guards.
190 Manion Butler retires as Viceroy, asking that his daughter Serena be appointed to take his place. She is voted in by acclamation, but insists that she is only willing to be the “interim Viceroy” until the war is over.
189 Thinking machines attack and conquer the small colony of Ellram. All humans either killed or enslaved. The battle is over before the League ever hears about it.
When Serena Butler comes to speak at a Parliament assembly, an assassination attempt is thwarted (one of the Seraphim guards gives her life) and Serena is rushed back into the protection of the City of Introspection. The would-be assassin is killed during the capture, and Yorek Thurr’s investigation uncovers proof that the man was a brainwashed spy sent in by Omnius.
188 Machines strike again, this time hitting Peridot Colony. The Army of the Jihad fights fiercely, driving back the Synchronized forces. Zon Noret leads his Ginaz mercenaries on the ground, destroying many robots, but the machine forces follow a scorched-earth policy, and the colony settlements are ultimately destroyed.
Impetuously, a group of jihadi soldiers disobey orders and strike out to attack the new machine headquarters at Corrin in order to destroy the current Omnius Prime. All are killed by robot defenses.
187 Segundo Xavier Harkonnen is the spearhead of a movement to erect a huge war memorial to all those who have fallen in the Jihad. Serena Butler adds her support, and the giant construction is begun at Giedi Prime, a place of terrible loss of life but also a significant victory over the machines. An identical monument is to be built in Zimia.
After the debacles on Ellram, Peridot Colony, and Corrin, Grand Patriarch Ginjo addresses the League Parliament. The Jihad has now been under way for thirteen years, and he proposes that in time of war there should be a different governing body, a “Jihad Council,” which actually runs the overall war in a unified and visionary way. He suggests that all matters related to the Jihad— both domestic (the Jipol) and abroad (the Army of the Jihad)— be consolidated and administered by this Council. Other commercial, social, and domestic matters can be discussed and debated in the normal League Parliament, for those kinds of decisions can take as long as they require. But matters of the Jihad require swift and decisive leadership that is not possible among the thousand voices of Parliament. The proposal passes.