Navigators of Dune

Roderick was impressed with the Admiral. Umberto Harte was not an egotistical man, and accepted the need to hide the sensational news that he had captured a fully developed Navigator alive. For the time being, Harte’s soldiers were sequestered, not allowed to communicate with their own families. A press announcement assured the cheering Zimia citizens that the survivors were just being debriefed about Directeur Venport’s defenses at Kolhar. The entire force was confined at one of the largest Salusan military bases, many kilometers from the Imperial city. In order to keep the important secret, Roderick would likely dispatch them on another off-planet mission for the time being.

A small man in a scarlet-and-gold jumpsuit approached from the back of the laboratory—Demos Athens, the head of the facility, accompanied by a much taller man in a long black garment. Athens nodded toward his dour companion. “Sire, may I present Robér Cecilio, an adept of the Scalpel order of the Suk Medical School, one of our most skilled deep-interrogators. His talents will be useful in extracting information from the captive Navigator.”

Cecilio bowed. “With your blessing, Sire, I am ready to help unravel the secrets this creature holds in its mind.”

Roderick had some unpleasant experience with the infamous Scalpel torturers. His brother had used them often—far too often, and Roderick had seen them in action. “I have never approved of your cruel methods.” He drew a breath, reminding himself that he was the Emperor now, not just a brother and a top adviser. “But I understand what may be necessary to obtain the information we desperately require.”

Haditha looked concerned. “We need to understand the origin of the Navigators, but that creature is no longer human. Scalpel methods may not be effective in this case.”

Roderick knew what she was thinking, and agreed. “I do not approve of torture … even of such an inhuman thing.”

“But you do approve of results, Sire. The information you seek is vital to the Imperium.” Cecilio gave a slight bow. “Nevertheless, I will use the lightest possible touch, gauging everything I do carefully.”

Roderick warned, “We do not want this Navigator to die at your hands, or suffer.”

Cecilio leaned close to the Emperor and lowered his voice. “Sire, with all respect we should not be having this conversation in front of the subject. Our methods should remain secret from him.”

Roderick spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “No, I want Dobrec aware of his situation and the peril he faces. This Navigator must understand how necessary the information is to us.” He nodded toward the Scalpel interrogator. “Very well, I authorize you to see what you can find out.”

He stared ruefully at the creature in the tank, and the Navigator looked back with oversized eyes that seemed only remotely aware of the people around him, staring far past the Emperor, into the deepest and most uncharted regions of space and time.

Where others see coincidence and unexpected opportunity, I see destiny, a long line of historical events leading up to this inevitable result. And I intend to take advantage of whatever tools God sees fit to grant me, so that I can complete my holy work in the most efficient manner possible.

—MANFORD TORONDO, unsanctioned Zimia rallies

The heroic reception from the citizens of Zimia was so overwhelming that even after four days of parades, speeches, and celebrations, the zeal had not diminished. Manford was pleased.

The Emperor had been forced to embrace him and lionize the brave Butlerian soldiers who had arrived at the perfect time to chase away Venport and his evil machine lovers. Settling in with the throngs at the capital city, rather than returning to his flagship in orbit, Manford had inflamed the crowds. And he kept them energized.

The swelling crowds had taken over empty homes and apartments, pushed themselves into temporary shelters, commandeered spare rooms in large family units, and set up communal sleeping tents across the palace plaza—whatever they needed to do. It was all perfectly justified and necessary.

If anyone from Zimia grumbled about the conditions, Manford merely spread his hands. “Good citizens of the Imperium are willing to make sacrifices for the future of humanity. After all, if we had not saved you from Venport’s siege, your city would be in smoking ruins and you would all be dead. You can endure some small inconvenience to welcome your saviors.”