Naib Rurik looked at his youngest son. Rather than showing elation at Taref’s return, he sniffed. “You’ve been gone a long time, you and your friends. You left the rest of us in the sietch to do your work.”

“I did work of my own while I was away, Father. Important work.”

His brother Modoc said, “If it wasn’t work for the sietch, then it was not important work.”

His brothers had often ridiculed him, making Taref feel small, but that would not be effective against him now. “I don’t care what you consider important. I have seen the vastness of the Imperium.”

His brothers chuckled, and Rurik said, “What happened to your suit?”

“I have a superior one.”

His father said, “You always want to change things.”

“Yes — I dreamed about changing life for all of our people, for the better. We’ll change the history of the Imperium. My friends and I have gone to various planets, we’ve done work for a great shipping company.”

“What does offworld politics matter to us here?” asked his other brother, Golron. “You abandoned your responsibilities.”

“‘A man’s responsibility is to the sietch and to his people.’” Taref flung the Naib’s oft-spoken words back in his face. “I would like to speak to the sietch, call a gathering. I have come with an opportunity that will improve life for anyone who volunteers to join me. I’ve been to worlds where water falls from the sky, and where the temperature is so cold the droplets freeze and lie on the ground in white drifts. On many worlds, water is so plentiful that it just sits in natural basins in the ground. Lakes and seas!” He raised his chin, challenging them to deny what he had seen and done. “Directeur Venport asked me to recruit others, because he thinks Freemen are superior operatives. Anyone who comes with me can see these places for himself, and be well paid in the bargain.”

Naib Rurik slurped his spice coffee. “I don’t believe in worlds like that.”

“And where are your friends?” Golron pressed. “Why haven’t they all come back with wild tales like yours? Or did you lose them in the desert?”

“I lost one.” Taref lowered his voice. “Shurko perished on a mission — but he destroyed an enemy ship, as he was ordered to do.”

Naib Rurik’s face formed a sour expression. “Freemen should not take orders from an offworld businessman.”

“Did you bring Shurko’s water back to the tribe?” asked Modoc. “It belongs to us.”

“He was lost with the ship, out in open space. His water is gone.”

“Then you failed your friend and you failed the sietch,” said the Naib. “And you want to convince others to replicate your folly?”

“I want to give them the same opportunity I had. Directeur Venport pays extremely well. After we finish our service, we will bring many items of advanced civilization to the sietch, to make life better here.”

“And why would we want anything to do with offworld civilization?” Golron asked. “Have you forgotten your own people’s history? We were enslaved by that civilization. We have a far better life here.”

“How do you know what’s out there? You hide in your caves and insist this is the best of all possible worlds, without ever having seen another one.”

Rurik shook his head. “You reek of civilization, of offworlders. You were always strange, Taref, yet I claimed you as my son because I did not want to shame you, me, or your mother.” His expression darkened. “Leave now — you do not belong here anymore. Go back to your insignificant life in Arrakis City. You will not spread your nonsense here in the sietch.”

Taref snapped, “You’re holding back our people.”

“No, I anchor them and give them stability. Your brothers will resupply you and send you out into the desert again. Don’t bother to come back with wild stories or offers. Go!”

Modoc mocked, “Do you require us to carry you on a palanquin, so you can get safely back to your civilization?”

Disappointed, and wondering how he would explain this complete failure to Directeur Venport, Taref turned his back on them. “I still know the desert, but I also know many things you will never experience.”

He had felt so saddened when he heard his friends complain about being homesick for the dunes and the old sietch. Now, though, Taref had no regrets about leaving here.

Chapter 47 (How many people can be told a secret, before it is no longer considered a secret)

Drawing upon more than a thousand years of memories, Erasmus had a wealth of stories to whisper into Anna Corrino’s ear. He stopped speaking to her in the simulated voice of Hirondo when he discovered that she had never believed he was actually the disgraced young chef. Regardless, she considered Erasmus a true friend who would not abandon her, and he experienced an odd pleasure in hearing that.

Erasmus encouraged her attitude, along with the corollary that he was a far closer and wiser friend than Hirondo had ever been. As a companion, he was always with her, and Anna could rely on him for excellent advice. Erasmus had tailored this line of reasoning to achieve a specific goal, but the more he conversed with the young woman, the more he actually believed it himself. He really had become her friend.

Anna lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “Tell me more about the terrible thinking machines.”

She spent more time in her quarters now. Even though he could accompany her everywhere, thanks to the silver transceiver in her ear, she preferred to converse with him in private. Erasmus had advised her not to call attention to herself, but her increasing isolation was also drawing notice. With his numerous eavesdropping devices, he could listen to conversations among the Mentat trainees, and they talked often about the peculiar girl.

Erasmus promised himself he would do what he could to protect her. Yes, Anna Corrino was odd, but she was also a special young woman, just as Gilbertus had been special to him. And after nearly two centuries, Erasmus was glad to have another friend and confidante. He felt a strange sense of responsibility toward her.

“I will tell you about the thinking machines,” he said, “but you have to decide for yourself whether or not they were evil. Let me give you a different perspective on history not told in official Imperial documents, and certainly not details that the Butlerian fanatics would share.”

As Anna Corrino listened, Erasmus talked about Serena Butler, the girl’s own distant ancestor. The robot didn’t have to lie when he described his admiration for the strong woman who had led humanity in an astonishing uprising against the machines. And all because of the silly little death of an unremarkable child? He’d never understood that part. Why had that been the cause of such an uproar?

Serena was the first human Erasmus had ever seen as a real person, not just a specimen. She’d made him reconsider the potential of humanity, which had eventually led to him taking the feral boy Gilbertus as a ward.

When he finished that story, Anna wanted to hear more about the Butlers, so Erasmus told her how Serena was finally martyred by Omnius in a great bonfire — and how that horrific death had further galvanized the doomed humans into a furious, illogical energy. “And that gave them the irrational confidence that actually defeated the thinking machines. Otherwise, they would not have had the resolve.”

Erasmus considered that an important object lesson, and he would never underestimate the power of human fanaticism.

When he recounted the fall of the Synchronized Empire, Erasmus managed to make her feel sad for the loss of the machine civilization. Tears actually ran down her cheeks! In vivid detail, he described the chaos when the Army of the Jihad overran the last Omnius stronghold, ruthless and savage in their destruction. He did not reveal that he had witnessed that mayhem himself.