Navigators of Dune

Every Imperial warship in the hold was loaded with advanced weapons, crewed with highly trained soldiers, the best in the fleet. Pilots of space fightercraft had climbed into cockpits; large destroyers were prepared to drop out of the carrier’s hold immediately upon arrival. This strike force would smash through any defenses Venport had managed to mount.

One chance. Roon tightened his fist.

The foldspace passage did not take long, but seemed to take forever. He transmitted to all ships, all soldiers. “Prepare for arrival. This will be quite a surprise.”

The engine pitch changed, while lines and streaks of color around the spacefolder slowed in their fantastic flow.

Roon stared ahead through the wide windowport as the carrier snapped back into normal space again. He expected to see the planet below, a defensive ring of VenHold ships taken off guard, scrambling to prepare their defense.

Instead, the bridge deck was filled with blazing light, raging ionized gases, stellar fire. “Navigation error!” someone yelled.

The carrier’s course was only fractionally off, a tiny mistake on a cosmic scale—but enough to drop the warship into the broiling fringes of Kolhar’s sun.

The First Nav Officer shouted, but Vinson Roon could see nothing at all because the searing light had rendered him blind, along with everyone else on the flight deck. There was no time for further screaming or whimpering.

Coronal loops swirled up and around; fiery convection cells churned plasma below. The foldspace carrier vaporized instantly, taking with it a hundred grand battleships.

* * *

ONE OF THE VenHold picket ships patrolling the Kolhar system detected a flash in the extended sensor net. Long-distance imagers caught what appeared to be a large foldspace carrier emerging in the fringes of the star, but coronal activity and the glare of radiation obscured details.

Directeur Venport had already departed for Arrakis, leaving Cioba as manager in his absence, and she reviewed the inconclusive images. She dispatched several picket ships to patrol closer to the sun, searching for any sign of an Imperial attack force that might be hiding within the stellar glare.

But they found nothing—no foldspace carrier, no ships, no wreckage. Nevertheless, they continued patrols and remained vigilant.

Many primary forces influence events in the universe: physical constants, gravitational forces, the laws of thermodynamics, elemental interactions, quantum mechanics. But I have learned that there are also less quantifiable forces that are unpredictable and destructive. These forces include human emotions.

—ERASMUS, Laboratory Journals

Flying back to Denali from the Lampadas proof-of-concept raid, Draigo Roget scanned the domes concealed beneath the dark, poisonous atmosphere. So much brainpower down there, so many innovations, so much destructive weaponry being assembled under Directeur Venport’s patronage.

Draigo would feel more satisfied if the cymeks had found and killed Manford Torondo. Although that had not been the full objective of the mission, it would have been a welcome accomplishment. Even so, the three monstrous walkers had caused a breathtaking amount of destruction in a limited time and then departed before any Butlerian warships could find Draigo’s shielded ship. In that regard, success was complete.

The two cymek walkers were stored in the cargo hold, with their brain canisters detached. Two of the Navigator brains hung in silent contemplation, possibly dreaming of pathways among the stars, places they might have flown if they had become real Navigators.

Meanwhile, Ptolemy’s brain conversed with him, providing insightful conversation. Draigo and the obsessed scientist had a great deal in common. Both wanted to defeat the Butlerian threat, although Ptolemy’s need to kill Manford Torondo and his followers was so bright and focused it was like a star that would burn out too soon.

As their ship dropped through Denali’s swirling green-gray clouds into darkness, Ptolemy mused, “We should have stayed longer, and continued the hunt for Torondo. He is an evil man.”

“We showed the Butlerians that they are helpless against even three of our new cymeks—and we are building a hundred more. When we launch our full attack, Lampadas is doomed.”

“But Manford still lives.” Ptolemy sounded bitter.

“And he will be terrified of us now.”