Navigators of Dune

Anna also required frequent reassuring physical contact from him. Even when she could see him standing right next to her, she would touch his arm, as if she didn’t believe he truly existed in this form. From a psychological standpoint, Erasmus understood the need of a damaged person, but the distractions were beginning to interfere with the progress of his other important experiments.

In order to have some time alone and undisturbed, he found himself concocting tasks to keep Anna busy. He sent her off to collect the former human names of the failed Navigator brains in their tanks, which took her hours. It was not necessary, or even interesting, information, because he didn’t care about their prior identities, or personal histories.

After Anna returned with a full list of names, he asked her to find out which planets had been the original homes of the exiled Denali researchers; many were Tlulaxa, but others came from different planets that had also been oppressed by Butlerian fanaticism. Again, he had no use for that information, but she went off to do whatever he asked, and found the people to direct her to the records. It kept her happy to think she was contributing to his research. This task took her two days, and Anna completed it with such dedication that he realized he could perhaps rely on her for real work.

Erasmus also wanted to travel to the recovery operations with the old robot ships, but Draigo Roget would not allow him to leave the research planet. He was able to review Hana Elkora’s reports, however, and allowed Anna to look over his shoulder. He found her presence irritating, but wanted to see what she could do that was worthwhile, and also knew what the emotional consequences would be if he told her to leave him alone.

After studying this experimental subject for so long, he understood that poor Anna needed such reassurance. Not only was her mind unstable and fragile, but her self-esteem could be easily manipulated—as Erasmus himself had done many times during their unusual relationship. For her sake, he tolerated Anna’s behavior and tried to learn from it, in his continuing analysis of her damaged psyche and emotions. He had, after all, initiated her intense attraction toward him in the first place.

Erasmus had pulled on Anna’s heartstrings long before she ever saw his new body, and he was beginning to understand the consequences of those manipulations. He studied her adoring expression, her dreamy eyes, and knew she would do anything for him. Even though he had no quantitative way to measure her emotions, he realized that she loved him.

Thinking back on his centuries of interacting with humans—captive slaves, lab subjects, even a number of turncoat collaborators—Erasmus realized that never before had anyone truly loved him in a romantic way. That was an interesting revelation, and warranted further study.

Yes, Gilbertus had been loyal and dedicated, a true friend. After witnessing his cruel execution, Erasmus comprehended part of the range of human emotions. He’d felt genuine grief, even despair over the death—and anger and a desire for vengeance toward Manford Torondo and his Butlerians.

But love … love was something different. A very complex emotion, with many aspects—like looking into the most complex facets of a diamond.

Now, inside one of the laboratories, Tlulaxa scientists were monitoring a fresh Navigator brain. All the protected brains in their canisters had just become inexplicably agitated. None of the researchers could understand why, not even Ptolemy or Noffe.

The scientists were likewise becoming agitated. “The Navigator brains have to be prepared,” Ptolemy said. “The cymek attack force must be ready for launch—we need to rely on these brains to destroy the Butlerians.”

Erasmus found their consternation amusing. He worked the muscles in his face to form a smile. “Perhaps they just need the appropriate stimuli.”

He had been practicing the subtleties of human facial expressions. The real face he had now was far more sophisticated than his best flowmetal body in the old days, as it provided him with precise motor skills and involuntary muscles. To her credit, Anna had helped teach him to smile and laugh, poking and prodding his face as if it were a mask of clay. Even in his robot body, he had been able to imitate laughter, but this was different—and it actually felt good.

Now he reacted to Anna’s intent expression. She was watching him, instead of the scientists, who were ignoring Erasmus in their angst over the agitated Navigators. So he shifted his focus to her, touched her arm, and gave her his best imitation of a heartfelt smile. She beamed in response.

He had already learned so much in assessing sensations from his nerve endings—the simple satisfaction of breathing and eating, tasks that even the youngest human infant could perform, but which no machine had ever done before. Even this damaged woman had taught him much.