Navigators of Dune

After the drop-pods landed in the darkness outside the capital city on Lampadas, Ptolemy activated his mechanical legs. The precision thoughtrodes that he himself had developed were efficient and accurate. The sensations were different, but his bodily control was precise and so much more versatile, and the integral weapons he controlled were like extensions of himself. For weeks, he had practiced for this moment out in Denali’s poisonous atmosphere, and now it was time.

Joined by his Navigator cymeks Adem Garl and Rikon Po, Ptolemy stepped away from the open drop-pod, and the three behemoths marched together toward the nearby dwellings and commercial buildings. Each step was a loud thump that shook the landscape and buildings. Though launched at night, this was not a stealth operation—far from it—but one meant to cause the maximum terror and mayhem.

Ptolemy’s enhanced optics discerned locals emerging from their dwellings, staring in horror and despair, and he intended to increase their suffering. It was what these misguided people deserved.

Manford Torondo was the true evil behind the movement, but his mindless followers also had blood on their hands. Butlerian mobs destroyed advancements that would help others, denied medical technology to the sick and injured, and simply burned anything they did not like.

He flinched at the memory of his friend Dr. Elchan’s dying screams, and in doing so he involuntarily ignited one of his fire cannons. The belching spear of flame set one of the nearby dwellings ablaze. Seeing the results of that accident, he opened fire with great gusto, and leveled the home. They were just beginning their mayhem.

He and his fellow cymeks marched forward. The other two walkers launched projectiles, wrecking storehouses, smashing primitive vehicles, and mowing down people as they fled. The attacking force had to cause as much damage as possible in a limited time, before they were recalled to Draigo’s stealth-shielded ship.

Ptolemy used his internal systems to scan the landscape and orient himself. The drop-point had been imprecise, but the cymeks knew exactly where Leader Torondo lived. His cottage was undefended. Ptolemy adjusted course, and the two other Nav-cymeks charged alongside him, blasting indiscriminately. They made their way to Manford’s residence.

His audio amplifiers picked up frightened shouts as Butlerians tried to escape; others stood their ground, holding up laughable and ineffective implements—clubs, spears, old-style projectile weapons—but even sophisticated armaments could not have damaged the shielded bodies of the new war machines.

The three cymeks stomped on victims as if they were insects and kept moving forward. According to Directeur Venport, their goal was not planetary conquest, but a demonstration attack with the objective of causing as much mayhem and destruction as possible. Ptolemy’s personal goal was to find and kill the Butlerian leader. If not tonight, then they would return with a much larger force when it was time for the full assault.

Ptolemy believed they could accomplish the entire objective with only three cymeks, though. In fact, he would consider it a matter of pride if he could do so.

Others might look on him as a monster, might see this action as the slaughter of countless innocents … but to him, none of these victims were innocent. He knew what they had done, or what they had allowed to happen, in the name of their fanaticism.

As his mechanical body approached Manford’s cottage, his conscious mind drifted back to his wonderful laboratory on Zenith. He and Elchan had worked on developing innovative cybernetic technology, meaning to help those who had lost limbs—people like Manford Torondo. They had created replacement arms and legs that an invalid could use just like natural limbs. But when he and Elchan had offered a new set of legs to the crippled Butlerian leader—simply because they wanted to help—the madman had destroyed the offering and sent his fanatical mob to ransack the Zenith laboratory and burn Elchan alive.

Manford had claimed he was teaching Ptolemy a lesson. Even though those fires had long since burned out, Ptolemy remembered his friend’s dying screams. And his hatred remained as bright as ever.…

When the three cymeks reached Manford’s home, Butlerian followers rushed forward to stand as useless guards and shields. They were defiant, determined, and ridiculously impotent.

The Navigator cymeks paused to assess the situation, but Ptolemy activated his flame cannon and roasted the would-be defenders alive, reducing them to insignificance, just like Elchan … though their deaths were much swifter.

Then the three cymeks fell upon Manford’s home.

* * *

AS SOON AS she saw and heard the demon cymeks approaching, Anari Idaho knew they had come for Manford. Even her intimidating sword would not be effective against the titanic machines. Her priority was to save Manford.